Jaeden tore off a strip of preserved gator meat, passing it to Liandra, who accepted it with a quiet nod. They sat in the dim glow of the embers, sharing what food he had - dried rations, some fragrant herbs and earthy tubers from the Anuran village he’d visited with his amphibian companion, Tharion, and the salty, tangy meat he’d managed to preserve from his weeks of travel. Each bite tasted of something different: the swampy richness of the Anuran lands, the heat of the preserved jerky, the roughness of ration packs. It was a strange assortment of food, a little mismatched, but comforting in its own way - reminders of the recent battles and brief moments of camaraderie.

Jaeden tore off another strip of the gator meat and passed it to Liandra, who took it absentmindedly, her gaze distant. She chewed in silence for a moment before Jaeden broke it.

“So, now that you’ve had some rest, did inspiration strike you in your sleep? Any ideas on who betrayed you? Whoever put you here didn’t do it lightly.”

Liandra’s expression hardened, her eyes flickering with frustration. “I have suspicions - many, actually. But that’s the nature of the Council of Shadows.” She gestured vaguely, a faint, bitter smile twisting her lips. “Secrets, lies, and alliances are second nature to them. Betrayal… well, it’s practically written into our oaths.”

Jaeden’s brow furrowed as he tore at his own piece of jerky. “That sounds exhausting. And dangerous.”

She let out a short, humorless laugh. “You have no idea.” Her gaze grew distant again, the embers casting shadows over her features. “But this… this wasn’t the usual backstabbing or maneuvering. It was deliberate, calculated. Someone - or more than one - wanted me gone for good. And not just removed from the council, but erased.”

Jaeden leaned in, intrigued. “And you don’t have any idea why? I mean, you’re an advisor, not some power-hungry rival.”

She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with a piece of dried fruit. “I opposed certain decisions recently. There were talks of aligning with… forces that I disagreed with. Ancient powers, things better left undisturbed.” She paused, then glanced up at him. “The kind of things that draw the wrong kind of attention. You understand?”

Jaeden nodded slowly, a glint of understanding in his eye. “So, they’re summoning more than just shadows.”

“Precisely,” she replied, voice tight with tension. “And it goes beyond that. There’s a faction within the council - they call themselves the Ruined. They’re devotees of a primordial entity who embodies destruction itself. They believe that by serving this force, they can attain power through ruin - that they’re justified in unleashing chaos.”

Jaeden’s eyes widened. “The Ruined? And you’re saying they’re part of your council?”

She nodded, her expression darkening. “Not officially, no. But they’ve hidden among us, burrowing into the council’s ranks. The Conclave of Shadows was originally founded to protect the realm - we are, or were, guardians in a sense. But the Ruined have twisted that. They’re no longer protecting; they’re erasing. Using the shadows to corrupt.”

Jaeden’s jaw clenched. “And these… Ruined. Do they follow anyone specifically?”

Liandra’s gaze hardened. “They follow the Ruined, an entity older than our realm. It’s something beyond life or death, pure entropy and void. It seeks to undo, to bring everything back to the darkness that existed before. The Ruined cult worships it, feeding off its promise of annihilation.”

He looked at her, half in awe, half in pity. “And the Conclave doesn’t know?”

She shrugged, bitterness lacing her voice. “I’m sure some suspect. But it’s hard to prove - especially when half of the council members are either complicit or too frightened to oppose them.” She hesitated, a shadow crossing her face. “I don’t know who’s trustworthy anymore. Whoever drugged me and threw me in here… it could be anyone.”

Jaeden nodded, glancing down at his food. “Sounds like your Conclave’s rotting from the inside. That must’ve been a fun realization.”

Liandra’s jaw tightened. “Fun doesn’t even begin to cover it. The worst part is, there are members who are still loyal, who genuinely care for the realm. But they’re tangled in this web of secrets, oblivious to the danger creeping closer.”

Jaeden took a slow breath, letting her words sink in. “So, what now? You gonna just go back and… what, pretend this didn’t happen?”

Liandra looked at him, a small spark of defiance in her eyes. “Hardly. I’m going back, yes, but not to pretend. I need to find out who betrayed me and why. And more importantly, I need to root out this corruption. The Ruined can’t be allowed to use the Conclave for their own ends.”

A silence settled between them, heavy with understanding. Jaeden, watching her, felt a reluctant admiration. Despite the danger, despite the betrayals, she was determined to go back and face the darkness within her own ranks.

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“Sounds like a suicide mission,” he murmured, half-smiling.

Liandra’s mouth quirked up. “Maybe. But it’s my duty.” She glanced back at him, a faint glint of challenge in her eyes. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Jaeden smirked, leaning back. “You’d be surprised. Besides, if the Ruined are as bad as you say, they’re not just your problem. They’re everyone’s.” He glanced away, his eyes thoughtful. “Let’s just say I’ve got a thing against people who ruin things for the rest of us.”

She watched him quietly, the hint of a smile on her face. “Then perhaps you’ll find your own reasons to care.”

They sat in silence, sharing the rest of the meal as the embers dimmed, both of them lost in their thoughts about the looming shadows ahead.

Jaeden finished the last bit of dried fruit, then leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Liandra. "So, these other members of the Conclave… anyone you think could still be trusted? Or am I right to assume it’s a free-for-all in there?"

Liandra sighed, her fingers tracing the edge of her cloak as she considered the question. “There are a few I still believe in. Old guard members, advisors who’ve been with the Conclave long enough to know its true purpose - they’re loyal, at least to the ideals we were supposed to uphold.” Her brow furrowed. “But even with them, there’s no way to know who might have been corrupted or influenced by the Ruined. They’re subtle, these followers. They don’t wear their allegiances openly.”

Jaeden nodded slowly, letting her words sink in. “Anyone specific you’d trust to watch your back?”

She hesitated, her gaze distant. “There’s Councillor Orin. He’s been around longer than most, a hard-liner on Conclave traditions, sometimes to a fault. But I’d trust his dedication to the Shadow Realm. Then there’s Kaelis - she’s young, idealistic. Too outspoken, maybe, but I doubt she’s one of them. If anything, her naïveté makes her a target.”

Jaeden raised an eyebrow. “So a few allies, but no guarantees. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Liandra’s mouth tightened. “You have no idea. Every time I think I’ve found someone I can rely on, I find myself wondering if they’re compromised. The Ruined have been weaving this corruption for a long time - and it’s tangled deep within the Conclave.”

Jaeden paused, studying her face as a question burned in his mind. “This… Ruined. What exactly is it? You’ve described it as pure destruction, but it sounds like more than that.”

Liandra’s gaze grew darker, the embers reflecting a flicker of something almost like fear. “The Ruined isn’t just destruction - it’s entropy, the erasing of existence itself. Imagine a being whose only purpose is to return everything to nothingness, to the void that was before anything existed. The Ruined is ancient, older than the realms, older than even the Abyss. It’s… a force of primordial undoing.”

She paused, her hands clenched tightly. “Legends say it was once cast out by other primordial entities, sealed away to prevent it from consuming everything. But its followers - these cultists within the Conclave - they’re trying to summon it, to draw its essence into the realm again. They think it’ll reward them with power, that it’ll only erase those they target. But if it breaks through…” She shook her head, her voice grim. “The Ruined doesn’t differentiate. To it, everything is a target.”

Jaeden swallowed, the weight of her words settling over him like a cold shadow. “And they think they can control it?”

“They don’t understand it,” she replied quietly. “They think of it as a weapon, a means to remove their enemies and gain dominance. But the Ruined isn’t a tool - it’s a force. It consumes indiscriminately, without thought, without mercy. The cultists believe they’re acting out of revenge or anger, but all they’re doing is opening a door they can’t close.”

He let out a low breath, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. “Sounds like they’re more dangerous than I thought. And if they’ve embedded themselves within the Conclave…”

Liandra nodded solemnly. “That’s why I have to return, to stop them. I have to find who betrayed me and root out the Ruined’s followers before they succeed. Because if they do, Jaeden… everything we know, every realm, could vanish into the void.”

Jaeden met her gaze, and for a moment, they shared a quiet understanding.

Jaeden paused, digesting Liandra’s words, then leaned forward, curiosity sparking in his gaze. "You mentioned Councillor Orin earlier. What’s his story? You said he’s one of the few you trust, right?"

Liandra nodded, her expression growing reflective. “Orin is… complicated. He’s one of the oldest members of the Conclave, not just in age but in loyalty. He’s steeped in tradition - a hard-liner when it comes to our founding principles. In fact, I think it’s his stubborn dedication that makes me trust him.” She gave a half-smile. “He doesn’t bend easily, not even to politics.”

Jaeden raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like someone who’s… set in his ways?”

“Exactly,” she replied. “He’s strict and often frustrating. But he’s also unwavering in his beliefs. If I had to put my life in anyone’s hands, it would probably be his. But that same loyalty makes him blind to the Ruined. He’s so focused on preserving the Conclave as it was that he doesn’t see the rot spreading within it.”

Jaeden nodded, absorbing this. “So, Orin’s loyalty could be his strength… or his weakness.”

“Both,” Liandra said, her voice softening. “He’s bound by honor, but honor can be a dangerous thing when twisted by those with ulterior motives. The Ruined exploit that. They hide in plain sight, masking themselves as the very traditions Orin holds sacred.”

“Then why would they want to unleash it?” Jaeden asked himself softly, thinking out loud. “What could they possibly gain?”

Liandra’s expression was grim. “Power. Influence. A twisted form of legacy. They think they’ll be remembered as those who brought about the end - a perverse form of immortality in the stories that might survive. They’re like moths to a flame, except this flame leaves nothing behind.”

Jaeden let her words settle in the silence, the firelight casting flickering shadows across their faces. “Orin may not see it now, but if you can expose the Ruined, make him understand what they’re really doing…”

Liandra nodded, but her eyes held a shadow of doubt. “If Orin knew, truly knew, what was at stake, I believe he’d act. But the Ruined are skilled at hiding their nature. It’s like they thrive in the Conclave’s shadows, feeding off suspicion, secrecy. I don’t know how to root them out without tearing the Conclave apart.”

“Well,” Jaeden said, offering a faint, almost sardonic smile, “maybe tearing things apart is what’s needed. I don’t think half-measures will work with something like the Ruined lurking around.”

She met his gaze, her mouth quirking up slightly. “You might be right. And if I need to… I’ll do what’s necessary.”