The victory at the well brought a fleeting moment of hope to Caris, yet Aethren couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that lingered. The Void might have been driven from the water, but its grip on the city was far from broken. The streets were still silent, the air thick with unease, as the group made their way back to the council chambers with Eryna leading the way.

As they approached the chamber doors, Elyra leaned in toward Aethren. Her voice was low, meant only for him. “Did you notice how she looked at the water after the cleansing?”

Aethren glanced at Eryna, who walked a few paces ahead. The elder woman’s demeanor had shifted since their arrival. She was no longer the desperate figure pleading for help. Instead, her posture was rigid, her gaze focused and unreadable. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

Elyra hesitated. “I’m not sure. But something feels... off.”

Aethren gave a small nod, his instincts telling him to remain on guard. Whatever secrets Caris held, they were likely to reveal themselves soon enough.

The council chamber was a stark contrast to the dreary streets outside. Lit by towering braziers, its high ceilings and ornate carvings reflected the city’s once-great glory. The six remaining council members sat at a long stone table, their expressions a mix of relief and skepticism as the group entered.

“You’ve done what we thought impossible,” said a tall, stern man seated at the center. His piercing gaze swept over the group. “The well is purified. The people will survive another day, thanks to you.”

Aethren inclined his head. “It was our duty. But this victory is only temporary. The Void’s presence remains. We need to know more about how it infiltrated your city.”

The man, who introduced himself as Varek, exchanged a glance with the other council members. “We don’t know,” he admitted. “The Void’s corruption began subtly—strange dreams, whispers in the dark. At first, we thought it was a passing curse or the work of a rogue sorcerer. But then the sickness spread.”

“Is there a pattern?” Thalira asked, her arms crossed as she leaned against one of the chamber’s massive pillars. “A single location or event that might have triggered the corruption?”

Another council member, a woman with silver hair and a sharp voice, spoke up. “The dreams always start near the old mines,” she said. “That’s where the first signs of sickness appeared. But no one who ventured inside ever returned.”

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“The mines,” Aethren repeated, a sense of dread settling over him. He had heard of places like this—ancient sites where the barriers between worlds were thin, allowing the Void to seep through.

“Why wasn’t this mentioned before?” Elyra demanded, her tone sharp.

Varek sighed, his broad shoulders sagging. “Because it’s not just the mines. The Void’s influence has spread deeper, into our very council. We can no longer trust even ourselves.”

The room fell silent. Aethren’s eyes narrowed as he studied the faces around the table. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Eryna stepped forward, her voice calm but carrying a chilling weight. “The Void doesn’t just corrupt water or land. It corrupts people. It whispers to them, offering power, security, even salvation. Some of us have already fallen under its sway.”

Elyra’s hand went to her weapon, her eyes darting around the room. “And yet you let us walk in here blind?” she hissed.

“We had no choice!” Varek snapped, his fist slamming onto the table. “You think we don’t know the risk? We couldn’t turn away the only hope this city has!”

A tense silence settled over the room. Aethren exchanged a glance with Thalira, whose expression mirrored his own. The situation was worse than they’d thought. If the council itself was compromised, then their mission had just grown infinitely more dangerous.

After the meeting, the group retreated to a small chamber set aside for them in the council’s quarters. The room was sparsely furnished, its stone walls offering little comfort. A single lantern flickered on a wooden table, casting long shadows across the room.

“We can’t trust them,” Thalira said bluntly, breaking the silence. She sat on the edge of the table, her arms crossed and her expression dark. “If even one of them is under the Void’s influence, they could turn on us at any moment.”

“Agreed,” Elyra said, pacing the length of the room. “But we need their resources. We can’t take on the Void without their support.”

“They mentioned the mines,” Rhael said, his voice thoughtful. “That’s likely where the corruption began. If we can find the source, we might be able to cut it off.”

“And if the mines are a trap?” Elyra countered. “If the Void is waiting for us to walk right in?”

Aethren leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as he considered their options. “We don’t have a choice,” he said finally. “The mines are our only lead. If the Void started there, it’s where we need to go.”

Rhael nodded. “Then we should prepare. The Void’s influence is stronger in places like that. We’ll need every tool at our disposal.”

As the group discussed their next steps, Aethren couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had been growing since the council meeting. The Void wasn’t just a force—it was a presence, watching and waiting, always one step ahead. And now, it seemed, they were walking straight into its lair.

Later that night, as the others rested, Aethren found himself unable to sleep. He sat by the lantern, staring into its flickering light, the weight of their mission pressing down on him. The Cleansing Flame rested on the table before him, its faint glow a reminder of the power he wielded—and the responsibility that came with it.

A soft knock at the door broke his thoughts. He turned to see Eryna standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable.

“May I come in?” she asked softly.

Aethren nodded, motioning for her to sit. She entered the room and closed the door behind her, her movements slow and deliberate.

“I need to warn you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not everyone in the council wants you to succeed.”

Aethren frowned. “Why would they work against their own survival?”

“Because the Void offers them something they value more,” Eryna replied. “Power. Control. And for some... freedom from fear. The corruption runs deep, Aethren. Deeper than you know.”

He studied her face, searching for any sign of deceit. But her eyes held only sincerity—and a trace of fear.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked.

“Because I still believe this city can be saved,” she said simply. “And because I believe in you.”

Eryna stood, her expression resolute. “Be careful in the mines. And trust no one—not even me.”

With that, she turned and left, leaving Aethren alone with her words and the weight of what lay ahead.