The night clung to Sir’ala like a shroud, the pale light of distant stars barely penetrating the thick fog that rolled down from the mountains. The city’s eerie silence was broken only by the distant hum of waterfalls cascading down vine-covered cliffs. Umbriel and Carter stood at the edge of the city, gazing out into the distance, their minds weighted with uncertainty.
Umbriel’s hand instinctively rested on the small red and gold book Alura had given her, the “Sacra Verba Incantatus”, her thumb brushing the embossed lettering. Her other hand gripped Melvek’s book tightly, as if it might slip away and take all hope with it. She could still feel the faint warmth of Alura’s presence, though the mysterious woman had vanished in a swirl of golden dust, like an illusion born of magic and secrets.
“Her mansion… in the waters of Veedur,” Umbriel murmured, her voice barely audible. “She said I must visit her… before it’s too late.”
Carter, who had been lost in his own thoughts, stirred at her words. His eyes still reflected the awe he felt toward Alura, her beauty and the unearthly grace with which she had appeared—and disappeared—had left him spellbound. But he quickly shook the reverie from his mind.
“We’ll go,” Carter said, his voice resolute. “But not yet. We have to find Martel first. He could be anywhere by now.” He glanced at Umbriel, his concern palpable. “We can’t waste any time.”
Umbriel nodded, her jaw clenched tight. The weight of her own guilt gnawed at her insides. I should have protected him. Martel’s face, his smile, his unwavering support, haunted her every thought. She couldn’t let him down again. “We’ll find him,” she said, more to herself than to Carter. “We have to.”
The silence that followed was heavy, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. The sky above seemed darker than before, as though the stars themselves were hiding. Time was slipping away, and so was Martel.
“I’m not sure where to start,” Umbriel admitted after a long pause. “They could be anywhere, hiding in any corner of Veedur.”
Carter’s brow furrowed in thought. “Keno,” he began, his tone uncertain. “He mentioned something on the way to Sir’ala—about a castle in the south. He said it was his home. If he’s taken Martel, maybe that’s where he’s headed.”
Umbriel’s eyes widened at the recollection. “The island in the southern seas… Yes, he did say something about that!” She pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to piece together the fragments of memory. “Then we have a destination.”
“But first we should check Foldrean” Added Carter. That was the last place they had seen Keno and Uperios. If they found any clues there, it might lead them to the castle in the south. From there, they could follow Keno’s trail to wherever he had taken Martel. The journey ahead was long, and time was not on their side.
“We’ll ride hard,” Umbriel said, her voice steadying as determination flooded her. “We need to catch up to them before it’s too late.”
As they mounted their horses and sped to leave Sir’ala, the wind biting at their faces, Umbriel’s thoughts raced ahead of them. Martel, hold on. We’re coming for you. She couldn’t shake the feeling that every passing moment put him in greater danger, that Keno’s betrayal had been only the beginning of something far more sinister.
The city skirts soon gave way to the mystical forest again, a vast and empty beneath the star-streaked sky. Their horses galloped tirelessly, the rhythmic pounding of hooves the only sound in the still night. Umbriel kept her gaze focused ahead, refusing to let her mind wander. But deep inside, she felt the stirring of something dark—something she had been trying to suppress.
Umbra’s presence, faint but growing stronger, whispered in the back of her mind, its voice low and insidious. It fed off her fear, her guilt, her thirst for revenge. And it promised power—power to stop Keno, to save Martel, to put an end to everything.
She tried to push the voice away, but it lingered, lurking in the shadows of her thoughts.
“Umbriel,” Carter’s voice snapped her back to reality. They had slowed their pace, the horses trotting now as the road beneath them became more treacherous. “We’ll reach Foldrean by morning if we keep this pace. Do you think we’ll find anything there?”
Umbriel shook her head, still trying to rid herself of Umbra’s voice. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But it’s the only lead we have.”
As the sun began to rise, casting a pale glow over the land, the village of Foldrean came into view. Smoke from hearth fires curled lazily into the morning air, and the smell of freshly baked bread and roasting meat greeted them as they approached.
They dismounted their horses just outside the village and tethered them to a post. Foldrean, the hunter’s village.
“I still don’t like this place,” Carter muttered under his breath, scanning the village as they walked. “It's... too quiet.”
“It’s peaceful,” Umbriel replied, though she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease creeping over her. “But looks can be deceiving.”
They made their way toward the center of the village, where a small market square bustled with early-morning activity. Hunters returned from their morning hunts, carrying fresh game, while merchants bartered over the day’s goods. Umbriel’s eyes darted from face to face, searching for anything—or anyone—familiar.
“What are we looking for?” Carter asked, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ever cautious.
“Anything,” Umbriel said, her gaze sweeping across the square. “Anyone who might have seen Keno or Martel.”
They split up, Carter went to Uperios hut and Umbriel started wandering through the square, asking questions of the villagers. But no one had seen Keno, Uperios, or Martel. It was as if they had vanished without a trace. The frustration began to build inside Umbriel. Every moment they wasted here was another moment Martel was in danger.
Just as she was about to give up hope, a voice called out to her from the shadows of an alleyway.
“Hey, you there,” the voice was rough, gravelly, and belonged to an old man with a hunched back and a long, scraggly beard. His clothes were tattered, and his eyes gleamed with a strange, knowing light.
Umbriel and Carter turned toward him, their hands instinctively moving to their weapons.
“I know who you’re looking for,” the old man said, his voice low and conspiratorial. “The man with the boots. He’s been here.”
Umbriel’s heart leaped in her chest. “Where? Where did he go?”
The old man chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Umbriel’s spine. “He was headed south. Toward Tratiari, the great merchant city he said.
“What do you know about him?” Carter demanded, stepping forward.
The old man’s grin widened, revealing yellowed teeth. “More than you do, boy. He’s not what he seems. None of them are.”
Umbriel felt a chill crawl down her spine. “What do you mean?”
The old man’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, his expression grew serious. “You’ll see soon enough. But I warn you—whatever you’re chasing, it’s not just about power. It’s about control. The kind of control that no one should have.”
With that cryptic warning, the old man turned and disappeared into the shadows of the alleyway, leaving Umbriel and Carter standing there, the weight of his words pressing down on them.
By mid-morning, they were on the road again, heading toward Tratiari. The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows over the landscape. Umbriel’s thoughts churned with uncertainty, the old man’s warning echoing in her mind. Control… What kind of control is Keno after? And what did he mean by “none of them are what they seem”?
Carter rode beside her in silence, his face set in a grim expression. He was thinking the same thing, she knew.
“We’re getting closer,” Umbriel said after a long stretch of silence. “I can feel it. We’ll find Martel soon.”
Carter nodded, though his gaze remained distant.
The road to Tratiari stretched endlessly before them, a ribbon of dusty earth cutting through fields and forests alike. The sun bore down with oppressive heat as the afternoon dragged on, the horses’ breaths coming in heavier bursts as they galloped onward. Umbriel’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and worries. Every passing hour deepened her fears for Martel’s safety.
Tratiari, a bustling merchant city, lay several days’ ride to the south. It was a known hub for traders, smugglers, and, more importantly, information. If Keno was heading there, it could only mean one thing—he was seeking refuge among the city’s dangerous underbelly, perhaps even searching for a way to gain more power. The mere thought of Keno seeking more strength than he already possessed made Umbriel’s skin crawl.
Carter, beside her, remained silent, his thoughts hidden behind a mask of determination. His distrust of Keno had been strong from the beginning, and now that their suspicions had been confirmed, he was relentless in his desire to catch up to him. But beneath that hard exterior, Umbriel could see something else—guilt. Carter had always prided himself on his instincts, yet Keno’s betrayal had caught him by surprise, just like everyone else.
Finally, as the sun began to sink toward the horizon, they spotted a small inn nestled among a grove of trees. Its thatched roof and worn stone walls stood out against the backdrop of open fields. The sign out front, painted with a crude depiction of a horse, swung lazily in the warm breeze.
“We should stop for the night,” Umbriel suggested, her voice hoarse from the day’s ride. “The horses need rest, and so do we.”
Carter grunted in agreement, though his eyes never stopped scanning the road ahead, as if he feared Keno might appear at any moment.
They dismounted and approached the inn, its wooden door creaking loudly as they pushed it open. Inside, the common room was dimly lit, the glow of a fire casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. A few patrons sat scattered at the tables, their murmured conversations blending with the crackle of the hearth. The innkeeper, a stout woman with graying hair and a worn apron, looked up from behind the bar as they entered.
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“Rooms for the night?” she asked in a bored tone, wiping a mug with a rag.
“Yes,” Umbriel replied, stepping forward. “And food, if you have any.”
The innkeeper nodded and gestured toward an empty table by the fire. “Sit. I’ll bring something out for you.”
They settled into the chairs, the warmth of the fire slowly easing the tension from their tired muscles. Umbriel rubbed her hands together, her mind still racing. She couldn’t stop thinking about the old man in Foldrean, his cryptic words replaying in her head over and over again.
“What do you think he meant?” she asked quietly, breaking the silence between them.
Carter looked up from the flames, his brow furrowed. “The old man? I don’t know. But he knew something about Keno—something we don’t.”
“‘None of them are what they seem,’” Umbriel recited, her voice barely above a whisper. “He didn’t just mean Keno, did he?”
Carter shook his head. “No. He meant all of them—Uperios, Keno, and who knows who else. There’s something bigger going on here.”
The innkeeper returned with two bowls of stew and a loaf of bread, setting them down with a grunt before retreating back behind the bar. Umbriel stared at the food for a moment, her appetite nearly nonexistent in the face of everything weighing on her mind. But she forced herself to take a bite, knowing they’d need their strength for whatever was to come.
As they ate in silence, Umbriel’s thoughts drifted back to Alura. The mysterious woman had appeared out of nowhere, saving them from certain doom in the library, and then disappeared just as quickly. Her words had been both a blessing and a warning, but they raised more questions than they answered.
"Alura told me there’s something inside me, something dark," Umbriel confessed suddenly, setting her spoon down. Carter looked up, his eyes sharp with interest.
"Umbra," she continued, her voice wavering. "It's growing stronger. I can feel it, whispering in the back of my mind. I don’t know how long I can keep it at bay."
Carter leaned forward, his expression serious. "You’ve been dealing with this for a while, haven’t you?"
Umbriel nodded slowly. "Ever since… the Temple of Chaos. It’s like a shadow that clings to me, feeding off my anger, my fear. And now, with everything that’s happened, it’s getting harder to control."
Carter was quiet for a moment, his gaze never leaving her. "Then we need to find a way to stop it before it takes over."
Umbriel sighed. "Alura said I should visit her in her manor. She might have answers, but we can’t go there yet—not until we find Martel."
Carter reached across the table, his hand gripping hers. "We’ll find him, Umbriel. But you have to promise me something—if things start to get worse with Umbra, if you feel like you’re losing control… you’ll tell me."
She hesitated, then nodded. "I will. I promise."
The next morning, the inn was quiet as they prepared to leave. The sky was overcast, the air heavy with the promise of rain. They mounted their horses and set off down the road toward Tratiari, the merchant city looming ahead like a shadow on the horizon.
As they rode, Umbriel couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. Every rustle of leaves, every creak of branches seemed amplified, like the world around them was holding its breath. She glanced over at Carter, who seemed equally tense, his eyes scanning their surroundings.
“We’re getting close,” he said, his voice low.
Umbriel nodded, her heart racing. Tratiari was within reach, but so was Keno. And whatever waited for them there, it would be dangerous. She could feel it in the air, the weight of something dark and powerful lurking just beyond their sight.
As they crested a hill, the sprawling city of Tratiari came into view, its towering walls and sprawling markets stretching out before them. Umbriel took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. Martel, hold on. We’re coming.
Tratiari was a city of contrasts. The grandeur of its towering walls and majestic gates stood in stark opposition to the narrow, winding streets and crowded markets that lay within. As they passed through the gates, the noise of the bustling marketplace assaulted their senses—merchants hawking their wares, buyers bartering loudly, and the occasional street performer drawing a crowd with feats of acrobatics or magic.
Umbriel and Carter made their way through the throng, their eyes scanning the faces around them for any sign of Keno or Martel. The city felt alive, buzzing with energy and chaos. But beneath the surface, there was an undercurrent of something darker, something that set Umbriel on edge.
“We need to be careful here,” Carter said, his voice barely audible over the din of the crowd. “This place has more than just merchants and traders. If Keno’s here, he’ll be hiding in the shadows.”
Umbriel nodded in agreement, her hand instinctively brushing the hilt of her dagger. She could feel the tension in the air, a sense of foreboding that grew with every step they took deeper into the city.
They wandered the streets for hours, asking questions, looking for any clues as to Keno’s whereabouts. But Tratiari was a maze, and finding one man in a city this large was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows over the city, they stumbled upon a narrow alleyway, tucked away between two towering buildings. It was dark and quiet, the kind of place people avoided if they knew what was good for them.
Carter stopped at the entrance, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “We should check it out,” he said, his voice low and tense.
Umbriel hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Let’s go.”
They stepped into the alley, the shadows closing in around them. The further they went, the quieter the city seemed to become, as if they were walking into a different world entirely. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and rotting wood, and every step echoed off the narrow walls.
At the end of the alley, they found a door. It was old, the wood splintered and worn, and the faint glow of light seeped through the cracks. Carter stepped forward and knocked once, twice. There was a long pause, then the door creaked open, revealing a tall, hooded figure.
“We’re looking for someone,” Carter said, his tone firm but cautious. “A man named Keno. We were told he might be here.”
The hooded figure didn’t respond, but stepped aside, motioning for them to enter.
Umbriel exchanged a glance with Carter, then stepped through the door. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of incense, and the flickering light of candles cast strange, dancing shadows on the stone walls. The room was small, barely more than a single chamber, and at the far end sat a figure cloaked in darkness.
As they approached, the figure slowly raised its head, revealing a pair of glowing red eyes. A voice, low and resonant, echoed through the chamber. “You seek Keno. But what you’ll find here is far more dangerous.”
Umbriel’s breath caught in her throat as she met the glowing red eyes of the hooded figure. There was an otherworldly stillness about him, something that set her instincts on edge. Carter stiffened beside her, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword, but he didn’t draw it. The tension in the room felt like it could snap at any moment.
The figure’s voice, deep and resonant, echoed again. "I know you seek Keno, but your search leads you down a path far more dangerous than you realize."
Umbriel stepped forward, narrowing her eyes. "How do you know about Keno? And why would you care about our search?"
The figure shifted slightly in his seat, his red eyes never leaving hers. "Keno is not the only hunting power. Forces far older and darker than the Chaos Devices are in motion. Your fate intertwines with them, though you may not yet see it."
Carter let out a small scoff, crossing his arms. "More riddles. We don’t have time for this. We need to find Keno, and we need to find Martel. If you know something, tell us."
The hooded figure chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous. "You’re in Tratiari, the city that never sleeps, the heart of the world's whispers. Keno is but a pawn in a much larger game. If you want to find him—and your friend Martel—you need more than strength. You need knowledge, and knowledge is power here."
Umbriel exchanged a glance with Carter, her heart pounding. There was truth in the figure’s words, as unsettling as they were. Tratiari was a city built on secrets, and if they hoped to outmaneuver Keno, they would need every scrap of information they could find.
The figure leaned forward slightly, the red glow of his eyes dimming as he spoke. "Before you go any further, there is someone you must meet. A man by the name of Antoine Tratiari." He is also known as “The thousand eyed”; he let the name hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "He’s a man with many connections, particularly with Veedur. If anyone knows about Keno’s next move, it will be him."
Carter frowned. "Tratiari? As in the same family the city’s named after?"
The hooded man nodded once. "Precisely. Antoine Tratiari is no ordinary man. He’s famous for being well-informed, for knowing the movements of those who think they operate in the shadows. Veedur may be his special focus, but there is little that escapes his gaze, no matter the region."
Umbriel felt a spark of hope flare up inside her. If this Antoine Tratiari knew about Keno, then they might finally be able to catch up to him—and save Martel.
"And after we speak to Antoine?" Umbriel asked, her voice measured. She sensed there was more the hooded figure wasn’t telling them.
The figure’s glowing eyes seemed to dim even further as if the next part of his words carried weight. "After Antoine, you must go to Platea Verdi. I will meet you there, and together, we will discuss what must be done. But not before. You will need what Antoine can tell you before you’re ready to face what lies ahead."
Carter’s brow furrowed with suspicion. "Why should we trust you? For all we know, you could be working with Keno—or worse."
The hooded figure chuckled again, the sound darker this time. "If… if I were working with Keno, you wouldn’t have walked out of here alive. You seek him, but what you really seek is far more dangerous. This is not about trust; this is about survival. The world as we know it, it's going to end no matter what you do."
Umbriel considered his words carefully. The man hadn’t shown any signs of hostility, but his warning was clear: there was more to Keno’s betrayal than met the eye, and whatever it was, it was tied to something far larger than they had imagined.
She nodded slowly. "We’ll find Antoine Tratiari, then. But when we meet you at Platea Verdi, I expect answers."
The figure inclined his head slightly, the shadows from his hood obscuring any further details of his face. "You’ll have them. But be warned—the closer you get to the truth, the more dangerous your journey will become. There are forces at work that want you dead."
Umbriel’s heart thudded in her chest, but she steeled herself. "Danger or not, we’re not backing down. We’ll be at Platea Verdi after we meet Antoine."
The figure’s red eyes flared one last time before he leaned back into the darkness, his voice echoing through the small chamber as they turned to leave. "Then may the fates be on your side, for you will need them."
The air outside felt heavier after the conversation with the hooded figure. As Umbriel and Carter stepped back into the busy streets of Tratiari, the city’s vibrant chaos seemed almost muted in comparison to the strange, otherworldly presence they had just left behind.
"Antoine Tratiari," Carter muttered under his breath. "I’ve heard of him. He’s like a spider in a web, pulling strings from the shadows. If anyone knows about Keno, it’s him."
Umbriel nodded, her mind already racing ahead to what they might uncover. Tratiari was the most successful city in the world for a reason—its merchants, spies, and informants kept the pulse of the world’s secrets, and if they were to have any chance at catching Keno and saving Martel, Antoine was their best hope.
"We need to be careful," Umbriel said, her voice low as they made their way toward the wealthier district of the city. "If Antoine is as powerful as they say, he’ll know more than we expect. We can’t let him see how desperate we are."
Carter shot her a sideways glance. "Desperation might be our only bargaining chip. If Antoine has the information we need, we’ll have to play his game."
Umbriel sighed, knowing he was right. They didn’t have the luxury of time or options. Whatever game Antoine played, they would have to navigate it carefully—because behind every whisper of information in Tratiari, there was a price.
As they approached the towering estate of the Tratiari family, Umbriel couldn’t shake the feeling that they were about to uncover something far darker than they were prepared for. The world was shifting beneath their feet, and Keno’s betrayal was only the beginning.
And whatever Antoine told them, they knew it would change everything.