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The Eyes of the Phoenix
Chapter 1: Beneath the Mountain’s Shadow

Chapter 1: Beneath the Mountain’s Shadow

Kalem’s boots crunched softly against the uneven gravel as they approached the entrance to Mount Varos. The air had thickened, heavy with the scent of sulfur, and the horizon wavered in the oppressive heat. He clenched his jaw, eyes darting between the jagged rocks and the distant glow that flickered from the mountain’s peak. The map had led them here, through deserts and ancient ruins, to this final, foreboding place.

 This is it. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his dagger, feeling the familiar coldness of its metal against his palm. After all this time, the Eye will finally be mine. And with it, everything I’ve lost—

 “Are you sure we’re close?” Aysel’s voice cut through his thoughts, low but sharp, like a blade in the dark.

 Kalem glanced at her, keeping his expression guarded. Aysel moved like a shadow beside him, her dark hair tied back, eyes scanning the path ahead with relentless focus. She was a warrior, that much was clear, but her motivations still eluded him. Revenge, yes—but how far would she go for it?

 “As sure as I can be,” he replied, his tone casual. “The map ends here, and this—” he gestured toward the massive stone arch before them “—is where the legends say the entrance lies. Inside, somewhere, is the Phoenix’s Eye.”

 And once I have it, no one will stop me—not Elias, not her.

 Aysel’s lips pressed into a thin line, though she remained silent. She didn’t trust him—he could feel it in the way her gaze lingered on his every move, the way her fingers twitched near the hilt of her sword whenever he spoke too confidently. But she needed him, at least for now.

 Her own thoughts churned like the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. How much longer should I let him lead? How much of his arrogance can I tolerate before I have to take control? She’d heard the stories about Kalem—once a prince, betrayed and exiled. His thirst for vengeance ran deep, but it wasn’t noble. She had no illusions about him. Power drove him, pure and simple.

 And power corrupts, she reminded herself, flexing her hand where her sword rested, ready for anything. But for now, I need him to find the Eye. Once I have it, Elias’s reign ends. And if Kalem proves as dangerous as I expect...

 Her thoughts trailed off as they reached the entrance. Massive stone doors, carved with the shapes of phoenix wings, towered before them. The intricate designs seemed to pulse with a faint, inner light, as if the mountain itself were alive and breathing.

 Kalem stepped forward, running a hand across the ancient carvings. “Incredible,” he murmured, though the awe in his voice was tainted by something darker. Soon… very soon.

 Aysel watched him, her expression unreadable. “Do you think you can open it?” she asked, keeping her voice measured. She needed him to think she still believed in his abilities—at least until she didn’t.

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 Kalem chuckled softly, a sound that grated against her nerves. “Watch me.”

 He pulled a small, leather-bound book from his pouch—the same one they had uncovered back in the ruined library. Pages yellowed with age, ink faded but still legible, described the ancient mechanisms guarding the Phoenix’s Eye. His finger traced the lines, eyes narrowing as he worked through the sequence.

 Aysel watched his every movement. He’s too eager, she thought, tensing. Eager and desperate. If he thinks for a second I’ll let him keep the Eye—

 “There,” Kalem said abruptly, pulling her from her thoughts. “There’s a catch beneath the wings. Push it, and the doors will open.”

 Of course, Aysel mused. Always eager to give someone else the dangerous task.

 Without a word, she stepped forward, pressing her hand against the cold stone. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a deep groan, the stone wings began to shift, sliding apart to reveal the darkness beyond. A gust of hot, dry air rushed out, like the breath of something long buried.

 Kalem stepped forward, his heart racing with anticipation. Finally.

 Aysel followed, the weight of her sword comforting against her side. Her pulse quickened, though she masked it well. This is where it begins. And where, perhaps, it ends.

 Inside, the cave walls were lined with strange, luminous crystals, their light casting eerie shadows that flickered across the uneven ground. The air here was even thicker, hotter—almost suffocating. Kalem’s eyes adjusted quickly, scanning the path ahead. He could feel it—just beyond the next turn, the power he’d sought for so long awaited.

 “How much farther?” Aysel asked, though she already knew the answer.

 “Not far,” Kalem replied, his voice tight with barely contained excitement. “The legends say the Eye lies deep within, guarded by the flames of the mountain itself.”

 Aysel’s hand drifted to her sword again, her mind racing. Guarded by flames? Or guarded by something worse?

 As they moved deeper into the mountain, the crystals’ light began to fade, and the oppressive heat grew even more unbearable. Kalem’s confidence wavered for the first time. He glanced at Aysel, her face calm, but her eyes betrayed a similar unease.

 “You don’t seem the type to believe in legends,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. “What makes you so sure the Phoenix’s Eye is real?”

 Kalem didn’t respond at first, his mind flickering back to the stories his father had told him as a child. Tales of the Eye’s power, of how it could make a man invincible—how it could change the course of history. His father had believed in those stories, but Kalem had dismissed them—until the night Elias had betrayed him. Then, they had become more than stories; they had become his salvation.

 “I don’t have the luxury of doubt,” Kalem said finally, his voice quieter now. “Not after what I’ve lost.”

 Aysel raised an eyebrow. “And what is it you’ve lost, Kalem?”

 He paused, his hand unconsciously tightening around his dagger. “Everything.”

 Aysel said nothing, but her mind whirred. Everything, or just the crown?

 They rounded a corner, and the tunnel opened into a vast chamber. At the center, on a raised stone platform, stood the Phoenix’s Eye. It was larger than Kalem had imagined, a massive ruby, pulsing with an inner fire that seemed to breathe in time with the mountain itself. The heat in the chamber was almost unbearable, yet neither of them moved.

 Kalem’s eyes were fixed on the gem, his heart pounding in his chest. It’s real.

 For a moment, all his plans, all his pain, faded into the background. All he could think about was the power before him, the power that would make him unstoppable. He could feel it calling to him, pulling him forward, urging him to claim it.

 But as he stepped closer, a voice—soft, almost a whisper—broke the silence.

 “Wait,” Aysel said, her tone sharper than before. “Something’s wrong.”

 Kalem froze, his hand inches from the Eye. “What?”

 Aysel’s eyes scanned the chamber, her instincts screaming at her. She had seen traps before, but this was different. The air was thick with something more than heat—something ancient, something dangerous.

 “This isn’t right,” she muttered, more to herself than to Kalem. “The Eye... it’s too exposed. There’s no way it would be left unguarded like this.”

 Kalem shook his head, unwilling to listen. “You’re being paranoid.”

 Aysel’s hand shot out, grabbing his arm before he could move. “No,” she said, her voice deadly serious now. “Listen to me. If you touch that gem without knowing what’s protecting it, you’ll—”

 She never finished. The ground beneath them shuddered violently, and the air was suddenly filled with a deafening roar. The walls of the chamber began to shift, and from the shadows, something massive stirred.

 Kalem’s heart raced as the temperature soared. “What the—?”

 Aysel’s eyes widened as the ground cracked open, revealing a river of molten lava beneath their feet. And from that river rose a creature—a serpent of fire, its eyes glowing with the same inner light as the Phoenix’s Eye.

 Kalem backed away, his mind racing. I’ve come too far. I can’t fail now.

 But as the creature’s gaze locked onto him, he realized—too late—that Aysel had been right.

 This was only the beginning.

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