The once-distant city of Veldros loomed large before them, an ancient monument of towering stone spires and worn walls that had withstood the passage of centuries. From a distance, it looked like any other city, though older, perhaps more imposing, but as Edrik, Kara, and Lyra approached its gates, they felt it.

The magic.

The air around the city pulsed with a kind of energy that made the hair on Edrik’s arms stand on end. It was subtle but constant, like the heartbeat of something immense and ancient, something that had been waiting for them.

Veldros had been a place of legend. Every village elder, every merchant who spoke of the city had whispered of the vaults of forbidden magic hidden deep beneath its streets. The archives—said to contain knowledge lost to the world for millennia—were Edrik’s goal. If there was a way to stop Alaric for good, to end the threat of his return, the answer would be found within those vaults.

But as they neared the gates, the unsettling sensation of being watched settled over them like a fog.

Edrik turned to Lyra, whose eyes were narrowed, her gaze fixed on the stone archways ahead. “You feel it too, don’t you?” he asked, his voice low.

Lyra nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “The magic here is... old. It’s been dormant for a long time, but something is waking it up. It’s like the city itself knows we’ve arrived.”

Kara shifted nervously beside them, her hand gripping her staff tightly. “Are you saying the city is alive?”

“No,” Lyra said, her voice quiet, “but it was built on something ancient, something powerful. If the wrong hands have touched that magic—”

“They’ll be waiting for us,” Edrik finished grimly.

The thought of Alaric having reached the city before them gnawed at Edrik. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking into a trap. Alaric had always been one step ahead, always anticipating their every move. He had summoned the shadow wraith to hunt them, and that was just a test—a warning of the danger that awaited.

But there was no turning back. The answers they needed were in Veldros, and time was running out.

Edrik approached the heavy stone gates, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He exchanged a glance with Kara and Lyra, his expression hardening with determination. “Let’s go.”

They passed through the gates, the air thick with a strange tension, as if the city itself was holding its breath. The streets were eerily quiet. No sign of the usual bustle of city life, no merchants hawking their wares, no children running through the streets. Instead, the city seemed abandoned, its once-proud towers now little more than crumbling relics of a forgotten age.

The sound of their footsteps echoed unnaturally off the cobblestone streets as they made their way deeper into the city. Edrik’s eyes darted from side to side, scanning the empty windows of the surrounding buildings for any sign of movement. Every shadow seemed to stretch too far, every alley seemed to whisper with unseen eyes.

“This place feels wrong,” Kara muttered, her voice tight with unease. “Like it’s... waiting for something.”

Lyra’s hand hovered near the pouch of magical artifacts at her waist, her eyes glowing faintly with the power she kept ready. “Stay close. We don’t know what’s watching us.”

They turned a corner, and the streets suddenly opened up into a vast square. In the center of the square stood the ancient citadel of Veldros, its high, imposing walls rising like blackened fangs against the sky. Unlike the rest of the city, the citadel seemed untouched by time, its stone as dark and smooth as the day it was built.

“This is it,” Lyra said quietly. “The archives should be inside.”

As they approached the heavy iron doors of the citadel, Edrik felt the unmistakable pull of powerful magic. It was as if the very air around the citadel was vibrating, a low hum that set his teeth on edge.

Kara hesitated at the base of the steps, her gaze fixed on the doors. “Are we sure about this? I mean, what if—”

Before she could finish her sentence, the doors groaned open of their own accord, the sound like the wail of something ancient and forgotten being disturbed.

Edrik’s pulse quickened, his hand tightening on his sword. “It knows we’re here.”

The inside of the citadel was even more foreboding than the city outside. Tall, dark pillars stretched up into a ceiling lost in shadow, and the air was thick with dust and the faint scent of decay. Every step they took echoed ominously through the vast halls, the silence pressing down on them like a weight.

Edrik’s grip on his sword never wavered as they moved deeper into the citadel, following Lyra’s lead. The magic was stronger here, almost oppressive in its intensity. But it wasn’t just magic. There was something else—a darkness lurking just beneath the surface, watching, waiting.

They reached a large stone staircase that spiraled down into the earth, disappearing into the dark.

“This is the way to the archives,” Lyra said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But... something’s guarding it.”

Edrik nodded, his jaw clenched. “Then we’ll deal with it.”

They descended into the depths, the air growing colder with every step. The light from their torches flickered as they moved, the shadows twisting unnaturally along the walls. It felt as though the very darkness was alive, writhing and shifting with their every movement.

Finally, they reached the bottom of the staircase, stepping out into a vast underground chamber. The walls were lined with ancient bookshelves, crammed with scrolls and tomes that looked as though they hadn’t been touched in centuries. In the center of the chamber stood a massive stone pedestal, atop which sat a large, ornate book.

“The Codex of Veldros,” Lyra whispered, her eyes wide with awe. “It contains knowledge of the old magic, the kind of power that could stop Alaric for good.”

But Edrik’s attention was elsewhere.

Standing in the shadows at the far end of the chamber was a figure—a tall, cloaked figure whose presence seemed to radiate with a malevolent energy.

“Welcome,” the figure said, its voice low and dangerous. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Edrik’s blood ran cold as the figure stepped into the light, revealing a familiar face twisted with a dark smile.

Alaric.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” Alaric sneered, his eyes gleaming with malice. “You’ve been walking right into my trap since the moment you entered the city.”

Lyra’s eyes widened in shock, her hands already glowing with magic. “How—how are you here?”

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Alaric’s smile widened. “Did you really think you could destroy me so easily? The Black Citadel was only the beginning. You may have wounded me, but you’ve only made me stronger. And now... I will take what is mine.”

Without warning, the chamber erupted into chaos. Shadows peeled away from the walls, forming dark, twisted shapes that lunged toward them with terrifying speed.

“Kara, get the Codex!” Edrik shouted, drawing his sword as he slashed through the nearest shadow creature.

Kara darted toward the pedestal, her staff raised as she blasted the creatures back with bursts of green light. Lyra moved beside her, her magic crackling as she summoned a protective barrier around them.

Alaric stood at the far end of the chamber, watching them with a look of cruel amusement, his dark magic swirling around him like a living thing.

“You can’t win this, Edrik,” Alaric taunted, his voice echoing through the chamber. “You’ve already lost. The Codex won’t save you.”

Edrik gritted his teeth, fighting his way through the swarm of shadow creatures. “We’ll see about that.”

Just as Kara reached the pedestal, her hand outstretched toward the Codex, a blast of dark energy slammed into the barrier around her, shattering it with explosive force. Kara was thrown backward, her staff clattering to the floor as she hit the ground hard.

“Kara!” Edrik shouted, his heart racing as he fought his way toward her.

But before he could reach her, Alaric raised his hand and unleashed a wave of dark magic that surged across the chamber like a tidal wave of shadows. The force of it hit Edrik square in the chest, sending him crashing into the stone wall with a sickening thud. His vision blurred, and the pain that erupted through his body was unlike anything he had ever felt.

“Edrik!” Kara’s voice rang out, panicked and desperate, but she was too far away.

Edrik struggled to push himself up, his muscles screaming in protest as the weight of Alaric’s magic pressed down on him. His sword lay just out of reach, and the shadow creatures were closing in, their red eyes glowing with hunger. He had seconds before they were on him.

But Alaric wasn’t done.

“Do you see now?” Alaric’s voice was filled with dark amusement, his power radiating through the room like a suffocating cloud. “You’ve been chasing shadows, Edrik. You think you’re a hero, but you’re just a pawn in a game far beyond your understanding.”

Alaric stepped forward, his dark robes flowing behind him like liquid shadow, his eyes fixed on Edrik with a gleam of triumph. “You will fall here, and once you’re gone, I’ll take the Codex, the magic it holds, and I will reshape this world in my image.”

Edrik’s chest tightened with anger, but the pain kept him pinned to the ground. The vision of his father’s death flashed before his eyes—the same helplessness, the same rage. He wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“No!” Kara’s voice echoed through the chamber as she scrambled to her feet, her green magic flaring to life once more. She thrust her staff forward, sending a shockwave of energy toward Alaric. The force of her spell rippled across the chamber, but Alaric merely raised a hand and deflected the blast as if it were nothing.

“Kara, stop!” Lyra called out, her own magic swirling around her as she tried to focus on the growing swarm of shadow creatures. “He’s too strong!”

But Kara wouldn’t stop. She sent another blast of magic toward Alaric, her determination etched into every movement, her face pale but fierce.

Alaric only laughed, a cold, cruel sound that echoed through the chamber like a death knell. “Is that the best you can do, child? You’ll have to do better than that.”

With a flick of his wrist, Alaric sent a tendril of dark energy spiraling toward Kara, wrapping around her like a serpent and lifting her off the ground. She gasped, her staff slipping from her hand as she struggled against the grip of Alaric’s magic, her feet kicking uselessly in the air.

“Kara!” Edrik roared, his body surging with adrenaline as he pushed through the pain. He reached for his sword, his fingers brushing the hilt just as the shadow creatures closed in. With a fierce cry, he swung the blade upward, slicing through the nearest creature and sending it dissipating into the air like smoke.

But there were too many of them.

Lyra moved swiftly, her magic flaring bright as she summoned a barrier around Edrik, deflecting the swarm of shadows long enough for him to regain his footing. “We can’t win like this,” she said, her voice strained. “He’s too powerful. We need to regroup!”

Edrik’s heart raced as he looked at Kara, still struggling in the grip of Alaric’s magic. He couldn’t leave her. Not again.

“I’m not leaving without her,” Edrik growled, his grip tightening on his sword.

Lyra’s eyes flashed with worry, but she nodded, her resolve hardening. “Then we fight.”

Together, they launched into the fray. Edrik swung his sword with brutal precision, cutting through the shadow creatures as they came at him in waves. Lyra’s magic surged beside him, her blue energy forming a protective wall that held back the darkness, but it was clear they were being overwhelmed. Alaric’s power was growing, and the shadow creatures seemed endless.

Kara’s struggles grew weaker as Alaric’s dark magic tightened around her, draining her strength. Her breath came in short gasps, her eyes wide with panic as she fought to break free, but the tendrils of shadow held her fast, squeezing the life out of her.

“Such a waste of potential,” Alaric mused, his eyes locked on Kara. “You could have been so much more, but instead, you chose to stand against me. Pity.”

Edrik’s chest burned with fury. He wouldn’t let Alaric take her. He wouldn’t fail her like he had failed his father.

With a burst of speed, Edrik charged toward Alaric, his sword glowing faintly with the magic he had only begun to understand. The power surged through him, filling him with a strength he hadn’t known he possessed. As he neared Alaric, he swung his blade with all his might, aiming directly for the sorcerer’s chest.

But Alaric was ready.

In an instant, Alaric released Kara, sending her tumbling to the ground, and turned to face Edrik with a look of cold amusement. He raised his hand, and before Edrik could react, a bolt of dark energy shot from his fingertips, slamming into Edrik with the force of a battering ram.

The world spun as Edrik was thrown backward, his sword clattering to the ground as he crashed into the stone wall with bone-jarring force. He gasped for breath, pain ripping through his body as darkness crept into the edges of his vision.

Alaric loomed over him, his shadow falling across Edrik’s battered form like a specter of death.

“You’ve fought well, boy,” Alaric said softly, his voice dripping with mockery. “But this is where your journey ends.”

He raised his hand, dark magic crackling between his fingers, ready to deliver the final blow.

Edrik’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. This couldn’t be it. He couldn’t die here—not with Kara and Lyra still fighting. Not with Alaric still standing.

But the darkness pressed down on him, the weight of Alaric’s power crushing his spirit.

Just as Alaric’s hand came down, a sudden burst of light erupted from the far side of the chamber, filling the room with a blinding radiance.

Alaric recoiled, his magic flickering as the light surged forward, pushing him back.

Edrik blinked through the pain, his vision swimming as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Through the haze, he saw Kara standing once more, her staff glowing with an intense green light that pulsed with raw, untamed power.

But it wasn’t just her.

The Codex.

The ancient book atop the pedestal had begun to glow as well, its pages flipping open of their own accord, the magic within it spilling out like a river of light. Kara’s magic had activated it, and now the very magic of the city was awakening.

Alaric’s face twisted with rage as he struggled to regain control, his dark magic battling against the light that now filled the chamber. “No!” he snarled, his voice filled with fury. “This power is mine!”

Kara’s eyes were wide, her body trembling as she struggled to control the magic surging through her. “I—I can’t hold it,” she gasped, her voice filled with fear.

“Kara!” Lyra shouted, rushing to her side as the light from the Codex grew brighter and brighter, threatening to consume them all.

Edrik pushed himself to his feet, his body aching with every movement, but the light from the Codex was blinding now, pulsing with a power beyond anything he had ever felt. The chamber shook, the very air crackling with energy.

And then, with a deafening roar, the light exploded outward, filling the chamber with a force so strong it sent everyone—Alaric, Edrik, Kara, and Lyra—flying backward.

The world went white.

Edrik gasped for air, his ears ringing, his body numb from the blast. Slowly, his vision cleared, and he found himself lying on the cold stone floor, the chamber eerily silent around him.

The Codex still sat atop the pedestal, but the light was gone. The pages had closed, the magic dormant once more.

“Kara?” Edrik croaked, his voice hoarse.

He pushed himself up on trembling arms, his heart racing as he scanned the chamber for any sign of his sister. The room was still, the air heavy with the remnants of magic, but something was wrong.

Kara was gone.

“Lyra!” Edrik shouted, his panic rising. “Where’s Kara?”

Lyra stumbled forward, her face pale, her hands still crackling with the last vestiges of magic. She looked around frantically, her eyes wide with disbelief. “She—she was right here. I don’t know—”

Before she could finish, the ground beneath them began to tremble, the stone walls of the chamber groaning as cracks spider-webbed across the surface.

“We need to get out of here!” Lyra yelled, grabbing Edrik’s arm as the ceiling began to collapse.

But Edrik’s mind was spinning, his thoughts consumed by a single question.

Where was Kara?

And then, in the midst of the chaos, a voice—low, cold, and filled with menace—echoed through the chamber.

“She’s mine now, Edrik.”

Alaric’s voice.

The darkness surged around them, and Edrik’s heart dropped into his stomach.

Alaric had taken her.