The forest is still. Too still.

Elorin's breaths come in shallow gasps as she steadies herself, gripping the relic tightly. Its golden glow has dimmed, the warmth now barely noticeable, as though the relic itself is recovering from the power surge that had just driven away the shadow creature. The eerie silence of the forest presses in around them, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the cold wind.

Rhylen stands beside her, his face hard with concern and focus. He casts wary glances at the darkened tree line, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, always ready. The shadow creature's attack had shaken both of them. It wasn't just the presence of the dark force—it was the realization that the relic's power was far more dangerous than they'd understood.

Elorin struggles to her feet, her body still trembling from the strain of using the relic. "What was that thing?" she asks, her voice quiet and hoarse.

Rhylen shakes his head, his expression grim. "I don't know. But it wasn't Varkos. That much is clear. It's something else—something tied to the relic."

Elorin shivers. The creature had spoken of the relic, of its purpose to "open the door between worlds." The words echo in her mind, gnawing at her thoughts. What door? What power was the relic truly connected to?

"We have to find out what's really going on," she says, her voice gaining strength as she forces herself to focus. "The relic… I don't know if it's just a weapon. There's more to it. That thing said the relic was a key."

Rhylen's eyes narrow as he considers her words. "Varkos seems to believe that as well. He's been after the relic for more than just power. He's after something bigger."

The weight of their situation sinks deeper into Elorin's chest. They'd been focused on stopping Varkos from wielding the relic, but now it seemed that even possessing the relic could be just as dangerous. Every time she used its power, she felt as though she was unlocking something—something ancient, something dark.

"We need answers," Rhylen says, cutting through her thoughts. "But right now, we need to move. The shadow creature is gone, but Varkos won't be far behind. And we still have to find the third key."

Elorin nods, tucking the relic into her satchel, feeling its familiar weight settle against her side. "Where do we go next? The relic usually guides us, but… after that last battle, I don't feel it."

Rhylen gazes out toward the mountain range ahead, his brow furrowing in thought. "There's only one place we can go to find those answers—Lorithas."

Elorin stiffens at the name. Lorithas was a place spoken of in hushed whispers, a city of ancient knowledge, now abandoned. It was said to be the resting place of countless secrets, locked away in the depths of the ruins. No one who sought its knowledge had ever returned.

"Lorithas?" she echoes, her voice uncertain. "I thought it was just a legend."

Rhylen's gaze remains fixed on the horizon. "It's real. And if anyone ever understood the kind of magic we're dealing with, it would have been the scholars of Lorithas. It's risky, but it might be our only hope of finding out what the relic truly is—and how to stop Varkos from using it."

Elorin takes a deep breath, weighing the risks. They're already in over their heads, chasing ancient keys and fending off shadow creatures. But if Lorithas holds the knowledge they need to understand the relic, it's a risk they'll have to take.

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"Alright," she says, her resolve hardening. "Lorithas it is."

Rhylen gives her a nod, his expression grim but determined. "We'll need to travel fast. If Varkos catches wind of where we're headed, he'll be waiting for us."

Without further discussion, they set off through the forest, moving swiftly and silently. The trees around them feel oppressive, their branches heavy with frost and shadow, but Elorin feels a strange pull in her chest. As if the relic is responding to the decision, faintly guiding them in the right direction.

Hours pass, the terrain shifting as they leave the dense forest behind and begin their ascent toward the rocky cliffs that overlook the valley. The climb is steep, the wind biting, but they press on. Every step brings them closer to Lorithas—and the answers they desperately need.

As they reach a plateau, Rhylen stops, his eyes scanning the horizon. "We'll make camp here for the night," he says, his voice low. "We need to rest before we push on."

Elorin nods, grateful for the break. Her body still aches from the battle with the shadow creature, and the strain of using the relic's power has left her feeling drained. They settle down near a cluster of rocks, where the wind is less brutal, and Rhylen starts a small fire. The flames crackle softly in the darkness, offering a brief respite from the cold.

Sitting by the fire, Elorin pulls the relic from her satchel, studying it in the dim light. The symbols etched into its surface glow faintly, but their usual rhythmic pulse feels distant, as if the relic is resting as well.

"What do you think we'll find in Lorithas?" Elorin asks quietly, her eyes fixed on the relic.

Rhylen, sharpening his sword across from her, pauses before answering. "Ancient knowledge. Maybe even the origin of the relic itself. If the scholars of Lorithas were studying old magic, they might have been the ones who created it."

Elorin swallows hard. The thought of the relic's origins, of the forces that could create something so powerful, fills her with both awe and dread. "And what if we don't like what we find? What if… the relic isn't what we think it is?"

Rhylen's gaze meets hers, steady and unwavering. "Then we'll deal with it. We've come too far to turn back now. Whatever we learn, it'll help us stop Varkos."

Elorin nods, though a sense of foreboding lingers in her chest. The answers they seek may bring more danger than they realize.

As they sit in silence, a soft sound reaches Elorin's ears—faint, but distinct. A whisper, carried on the wind.

She sits up straight, her heart skipping a beat. "Did you hear that?"

Rhylen's eyes narrow as he listens. The wind whistles through the cliffs, but beneath it, there's something else. A soft, rhythmic sound. Like a voice, too faint to make out.

Elorin grips the relic tightly, her pulse quickening. The whisper grows louder, more distinct, and she feels the relic respond to it, pulsing faintly in her hand.

Without warning, the ground beneath them trembles.

Rhylen is on his feet in an instant, sword in hand, his eyes scanning the dark cliffs around them. "We're not alone."

Elorin stands as well, her heart racing. The whisper has turned into a chant, growing louder, echoing through the cliffs. And then, from the shadows, dark shapes emerge—figures cloaked in black, their faces hidden beneath hoods. They move silently, surrounding them, their eyes glowing faintly in the firelight.

Rhylen raises his sword, ready for battle. "Elorin, stay behind me."

But Elorin's attention is fixed on the figures. The relic in her hand pulses harder, as if responding to their presence. These aren't shadow creatures. They are something else—something tied to the relic.

The lead figure steps forward, their voice low and cold. "The relic is not yours to wield, girl. It belongs to the Order."

Elorin's blood runs cold. The Order. She had heard whispers of them—an ancient group dedicated to guarding the secrets of old magic, including the relic. But no one had seen them in centuries.

"We don't want a fight," Rhylen says, his voice tense. "But we're not giving you the relic."

The figure chuckles darkly. "You misunderstand. The relic does not belong to you. It never has."

Elorin tightens her grip on the relic, her heart pounding. "What do you want?"

The figure steps closer, his eyes gleaming beneath the hood. "The relic was created to unlock the door between worlds. And you, foolish child, have brought us one step closer to our goal."

Elorin's breath catches. The door between worlds. The same thing the shadow creature had spoken of. The realization hits her like a hammer—she's not just fighting Varkos. There's something far bigger at play, something tied to the very existence of the relic.

Before she can react, the ground shakes violently beneath them, and the Order closes in.