The dim candlelight flickered against the stone walls of the Raven School’s hidden archive. Dust floated through the air, disturbed by their movements as Kaelen and Sigrid sifted through ancient tomes and scrolls. The chamber smelled of old parchment and burning wax, the weight of countless untold stories pressing down on them.

The Master of the school stood nearby, silent yet watchful. He had led them here without much explanation, but his presence alone made it clear—this wasn’t just another history lesson.

Kaelen ran a gloved hand over the spine of a massive leather-bound book. The worn script read: Of Seals and Sundering: A Record of Forbidden Locks. His golden eyes narrowed. “A little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Sigrid ignored him, already absorbed in another text. Her fingers traced the faded ink of a detailed sketch—a talisman, surrounded by warning symbols. “This is it,” she murmured. “The artifact that was used to bind the Liorath.”

The Master finally spoke. “Not just any artifact. This talisman was crafted with something far older than the hunt itself.” He stepped forward, eyes dark. “The thing it seals away… it is not meant to be touched, let alone released.”

Kaelen exhaled. “Great. So we’re dealing with something that’s been locked up for a reason.”

Sigrid studied the book in her hands. “The question is, who else is looking for it?”

The Master let out a slow breath. “There are always fools who seek power beyond their understanding. But you should worry less about who is looking for it and more about why it was locked away in the first place.” His gaze lingered on Kaelen. “You carry something of the old ways in you, boy. Perhaps it’s time you learned why that matters.”

Kaelen tensed slightly. He had never been the type to dwell on cryptic words, but the way the Master spoke sent a chill down his spine.

Sigrid glanced at him but didn’t press. Instead, she focused on the next pressing matter. “If the talisman is the key to stopping this, where do we start?”

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The Master turned, walking towards the far end of the chamber. He stopped before a heavy stone pedestal, its surface etched with claw marks and old bloodstains. A single tattered scroll lay atop it.

“This will tell you where to go next.” His voice was firm, but something about it carried a warning. “But know this—the deeper you go, the less certainty you’ll have that you’re hunting the right prey.”

Kaelen smirked. “Good thing we don’t do this for certainty. We do it because we get paid.”

The Master gave a low chuckle. “You’ll find that some hunts cost more than coin.”

Sigrid lifted the scroll, her expression unreadable. “Then we’d best make sure the price is worth it.”

The hourglass continued to drain its last grains of sand. Whatever came next, there was no turning back.

Kaelen and Sigrid left the chamber of archives with the weight of their discoveries pressing down on them like an iron chain. The Master walked ahead, leading them through the dimly lit corridors of the Raven School. Flickering torches lined the walls, their glow barely enough to chase away the cold that clung to the air.

Sigrid clutched the scroll in her hand, her mind racing through the implications. The talisman—an artifact powerful enough to bind the Liorath—wasn’t just hidden. It was buried, locked away behind layers of forgotten history and deliberate silence. Someone had made sure it was never found again.

"Let me guess," Kaelen muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Wherever this thing is, it won’t just be sitting in a chest waiting for us to pick it up."

The Master snorted. "No. It is entombed in a ruin lost to time, a place where hunters once feared to tread." He came to a stop before a massive iron door reinforced with heavy bolts. "You’re chasing something older than you realize, and the path ahead is no mere hunt."

Sigrid narrowed her eyes. "Then tell us what we’re dealing with."

The Master exhaled, his sharp gaze settling on Kaelen first before shifting to Sigrid. "Have either of you ever heard of The Veil of Avaras?"

Kaelen crossed his arms. "Sounds like a bad bedtime story."

"It should be," the Master said grimly. "But it's real. Avaras was once a sanctuary for scholars and hunters alike, a hidden refuge built to study the creatures we now hunt. But something changed. Something corrupted it."

Sigrid stiffened. "Corrupted how?"

The Master met her gaze. "The hunters who remained there were lost. Not killed. Lost." He let the word sink in before continuing. "No bodies were ever found. No blood. Just an empty ruin and whispers of something moving in the dark."

Kaelen’s smirk faltered. "Sounds welcoming."

The Master placed a firm hand on the iron door before them, pushing it open with a slow, grating groan. Inside, the chamber was filled with hunting gear—blades, armor, potions, and things even Kaelen didn’t recognize. "If you go to Avaras, you won’t return the same. That much is certain."

Sigrid exchanged a glance with Kaelen. She didn’t have to say it—he already knew they had no choice.

Kaelen sighed, stepping forward. "Well then. Guess we’d better prepare for another bad idea."

Sigrid smirked slightly. "Wouldn’t be the first."

The Master simply watched them, his expression unreadable. Whatever lay ahead, it was clear—this was more than just another hunt.