Jaeden pushed himself up, offering a hand to Liandra. “I found a tunnel behind the altar. Looked like it could lead somewhere, but I didn’t want to go alone.”
Liandra took his hand, steadying herself as she rose. “You actually waited?” she asked, a glint of surprise softening her usually guarded expression.
“Wouldn’t be much of a team if I didn’t,” Jaeden replied with a smirk. “Besides, now that we’re both rested, we can see what’s down there together.”
They made their way through the shadows of the chamber, weaving past debris and statues that seemed almost to watch them. Jaeden led them to the tunnel entrance, and with one last glance to ensure Liandra was ready, they stepped inside.
As they moved, the silence between them turned contemplative. Jaeden finally broke it. “So, tell me more about the Conclave. You mentioned Orin… but you also brought up someone named Kaelis?”
Liandra sighed, her expression shifting as if recalling memories she’d rather not revisit. “Kaelis… she’s different from Orin. Young, passionate, a little too eager to make her mark on the Conclave. She believes in the ideals of the Conclave, maybe too much. If Orin is set in tradition, Kaelis is the embodiment of its possibilities. Idealistic, but inexperienced.”
Jaeden chuckled lightly. “Idealistic and inexperienced? Sounds like the kind of person who’d make a lot of noise - get herself noticed, one way or another.”
“Exactly. She’s made enemies, though she probably doesn’t even realize it. The council sees her as a bit of a nuisance. But I don’t think she’s dangerous, not in the same way as others.” Liandra’s gaze grew pensive. “She’s vulnerable because she’s so… open. The Ruined might see her as easy to manipulate.”
Jaeden glanced sideways at Liandra as they walked, the tunnel walls narrowing around them. “You’re worried about her?”
“I am,” Liandra admitted. “She’s trying to push the Conclave to reform, to acknowledge the corruption festering within it. But her efforts could backfire. If the wrong people notice, she could be put in real danger. In a way, her passion could make her a target.”
Jaeden nodded thoughtfully, ducking under a low overhang as they continued. “So, if this Ruined cult gets their claws into her… they could use her influence to spread their reach even further into the Conclave.”
Liandra’s face tightened. “Yes. That’s exactly my fear. Kaelis is young and might not see the threat for what it is. The Ruined work in shadows, and she’s drawn to the light of change. They’d snuff her out - or worse, twist her to serve their own ends.”
The tunnel began to widen, and a faint glimmer of light filtered in from further ahead, illuminating the stone walls etched with strange runes. Jaeden’s eyes narrowed as he considered her words. “Sounds like she’s got her work cut out for her - as do we. You think she’d listen to a warning?”
Liandra shook her head slowly. “Not unless she can see the danger for herself. Kaelis is stubborn. She’s spent too long being dismissed by the other members, brushed off for being young. She won’t just accept that there’s more at play, even if I tell her.”
Jaeden let out a low sigh. “Guess that leaves us to figure out who the real enemy is - or at least find proof before she becomes their next pawn.”
Liandra’s eyebrows arched, a hint of curiosity flashing in her gaze. “Us?” she asked, her voice light but carrying an undercurrent of skepticism.
Jaeden shrugged, giving her a quick sidelong glance. “Of course, us.” Inwardly, he thought of the trials he’d faced so far, and what the old man Echo had told him. This journey through dark tunnels and shadowed secrets felt like one of those tests - an initiation into something larger.
As they ventured deeper into the darkened passageway, Jaeden remained alert. His instincts, sharpened by experience, told him not to let his guard down - especially around Liandra. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something about her, a tension in her that suggested she wasn’t telling him everything. His gut whispered caution, and he’d learned to trust that sixth sense.
Just to stay sharp, he kept his advancements window minimized but active, hovering discreetly in his peripheral vision to show any skill increases in real time. He’d figured out how to customize this system interface, and it had taken some mental trial and error, but the familiarity was worth it. He could control exactly what he saw and when, a quality-of-life tweak he’d long appreciated back in his gaming days. He thought back to the first game that had hooked him, the one with all those custom key binds and interface adjustments that had made sense only to him. From then on, he couldn’t stand a pre-set control scheme. The minute he found a game with an inverted control or misplaced button layout, he’d spend ages just re-mapping the commands to fit his instincts.
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Over the years, as the technology evolved - and eventually, as he did too - he’d adapted those tweaks across virtual reality games, extended-reality setups, and finally, his own custom XR system. Thanks to Vee’s help, he’d fine-tuned a HUD that was both efficient and intuitive. It became second nature, almost like an extension of himself. So, naturally, he’d tried adjusting this unfamiliar system, molding it to his preferences - and to his surprise, it had worked. Now he could pull up a full display at will or reduce it to a subtle, unobtrusive stream of data. As they moved down the passage, he caught a glimpse of his Intuition skill leveling up, along with his Awareness and other sensory skills. He noted with some frustration that the higher he leveled these, the slower the gains seemed to come. The system’s balancing mechanism, he supposed.
He glanced at Liandra, who followed his lead down the winding path, her demeanor alert yet strangely calm. She’d said her powers were diminished here, muted in some way, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she might be downplaying her strength. He couldn’t be certain, and for now, he decided to keep that suspicion close. After all, even victims could be deceivers.
The air in the tunnel grew colder, thickening with an oppressive weight. It wasn’t the cold of a mere underground passage but something deeper, something that felt both ancient and watchful, pressing in from all sides. Jaeden scanned the stone walls, noting how the tunnel seemed to wind on with no end, no deviation, as if it were burrowing through the heart of a mountain. The walls were roughly carved but seemed almost intentional, like they were part of some greater design, a path created for a very specific purpose.
The silence stretched, broken only by the quiet shuffle of their footsteps. Every instinct in him screamed to stay alert, to watch for traps or ambushes, despite the eerie stillness.
Liandra’s voice cut through the quiet. “You seem… very focused. Almost like you’re waiting for something to jump out at us.”
Jaeden smirked. “You get used to expecting ambushes after a while. Caution’s just part of the routine now.” He glanced over at her, trying to read her expression. “And you… You’re following my lead a little too easily. Makes me wonder why you don’t seem worried.”
She shrugged, a faint smile playing at her lips. “Maybe I’m more cautious than you realize. Or maybe I know things you don’t.”
Jaeden raised an eyebrow. “Care to share?”
She sighed, her gaze drifting down the passage ahead. “There’s no hiding that I have more knowledge of this place than you. I’ve spent years among people who walk this path without ever seeing what lies beneath it. And when you’re part of the Conclave of Shadows, you learn to keep certain things to yourself.”
“The Conclave,” he murmured, testing the name as they walked. “You said they were advisors - protectors, even. But somehow, I get the feeling that’s only part of the truth.”
“It is,” she replied, her tone softening. “They began as guardians, meant to keep balance, to counsel those who rule the shadows. But over time… Let’s just say the purity of their purpose has been diluted. Power attracts all kinds of motivations.”
“And you?” he pressed, watching her closely. “Where do you fit in with all of this?”
Her expression darkened, the weight of some hidden memory flickering across her face. “I trusted them. I thought I understood what we stood for. But then… there was Eliel.”
Jaeden caught Liandra's gaze as they moved through the shadowed tunnel, a flickering torch casting long, ominous shadows. He’d seen the pain flash across her face when she’d mentioned Eliel. It was a risk, but he pressed on, his tone cautious.
“Eliel?” he prompted, watching her expression carefully. She stopped for a moment, gaze fixed on the cold stone wall, before nodding.
“He was an acolyte, one of mine actually,” she murmured, the words soft and edged with regret. “Young, ambitious, loyal… maybe too loyal.” She paused, swallowing hard as she stared down the tunnel, avoiding his eyes. “He found something - something he thought I needed to see. He sent a message late one night, said it was important. Urgent, even. But when I arrived at his chambers the next day… he was gone. No trace of him. No explanation.” She clenched her fists, her jaw tight. “The Council called it a disappearance, likely just a ‘misstep,’ they said. But I knew better.”
Jaeden felt a chill settle over him. “So, he found something he wasn’t supposed to?”
“Something he’d barely hinted at,” she said, her voice cracking. “Eliel was young, but he had an eye for things that didn’t fit, that seemed… wrong. I told him to be careful, to never step too far outside the boundaries, but he was determined.” Her face twisted in bitterness. “I may never know what he found.”
Jaeden nodded slowly. “You think it was connected to the Ruined, don’t you?”
Liandra’s face darkened, and she gave a short nod. “Yes. I have no proof, of course, just the pieces left behind in whispers and shadows. But I suspect he’d found traces of them within our own ranks.”
Jaeden met her gaze, the weight of understanding settling between them. “And your Lord… he knows?”
At that, a flicker of pain crossed her face again, sharper this time. She hesitated, as if weighing how much to reveal. “He… trusts the council. He has to. It’s his duty. I can’t fault him for that.”
Jaeden raised an eyebrow, sensing the rawness of her feelings. “But you wish he’d see through them. See through their lies.”
Her eyes met his, and for a moment, the cold resolve softened, replaced by a glimmer of something almost vulnerable. “Yes,” she admitted. “But he’s bound by his role. He doesn’t see what I see, or if he does… he can’t afford to act on it. Not without proof.”
Jaeden inclined his head, the weight of her words resonating deeply. “Then we’ll find proof. For Eliel. For everyone they’ve hidden in the shadows.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “And for you.”
She held his gaze a moment longer, then nodded.