Sylvia was looking forward to exploring the ruins. It had barely been a decade since they had been unearthed. Located on the border between three different nations, these ruins were steeped in mystery. With the negotiations between the kingdom of Azuryss, the human nation of Vextyr, and the elven empire of Naiadorn recently concluded, Sylvia was part of the first expedition granted access.

Sylvia tightened the straps of her leather satchel, feeling the weight of the various tools and scrolls inside. Ruins had always fascinated her, ever since she had first heard the tales of the ancient civilizations that thrived before the rise of the current nations. The fact that these ruins were located on the borders of Azuryss, Vextyr, and Naiadorn made them all the more intriguing—and dangerous.

As she made her way through the bustling camp set up near the entrance to the ruins, Sylvia couldn’t help but notice the tense atmosphere. Scholars and soldiers from all three nations were present, each with their own curiosities and theories. Though the treaty had allowed this joint expedition, centuries of mistrust weren’t easily washed away.

Sylvia, a scholar from Naiadorn, was especially aware of the glances cast her way. Her long, silver hair and deep green eyes marked her as a pureblood elf, far rarer than their more common cousins. The humans from Vextyr, with their harsh, calculating gazes, seemed disinterested in the ruins themselves, more focused on ensuring that the elves and Jin did not attempt anything untoward during the expedition. Meanwhile, the serpentine figures of the Azuryss Jin slithered through the camp with an air of aloof superiority, their blue-scaled bodies, proof of their pure blood untainted by other races, glinting in the morning sun.

The entrance to the ruins loomed ahead, a massive archway carved with intricate symbols that none of the scholars had yet deciphered. As she approached, Sylvia’s breath caught in her throat. The air around the ruins felt charged, as if the ancient magic that had once filled these halls still lingered, waiting to be awakened.

"Lady Sylvia," a voice called from behind her. She turned to see a tall, slender figure approaching—Lord Caelum, a fellow scholar from Naiadorn. His pale blue robes fluttered in the wind, and his thick glasses gleamed in the sunlight. "Are you ready? The other delegations are preparing to enter."

Sylvia nodded, trying to mask her excitement with the calm demeanor expected of a scholar. "Of course, Lord Caelum. I’ve been waiting for this day for years."

"Same," Caelum replied, his gaze briefly flickering to the Vextyr soldiers assembling nearby. "Remember, the success of this expedition hinges not just on what we find, but on how we manage our... companions."

Sylvia understood his meaning perfectly. One wrong move, one misinterpreted action, and this fragile alliance could shatter, turning the exploration into a battlefield. She had to tread carefully, not only for the sake of Naiadorn but for the preservation of the knowledge that lay within these ruins.

As the delegations gathered at the entrance, the leader of the Vextyr contingent, a stern-looking man named Captain Marek, stepped forward. His dark eyes scanned the group with a mixture of suspicion and command. "The entrance has been secured. We’ll proceed in groups, each representing their nation. But remember," his voice hardened, "this is a joint expedition. Any findings must be shared equally."

Everyone nodded in agreement, not wanting to miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Sylvia was placed in the first group, alongside two scholars from Vextyr and one from Azuryss. As they crossed the threshold into the ruins, the air grew cooler, and the sounds of the camp faded into an eerie silence. The corridors were wide, with high ceilings supported by massive stone pillars etched with those same undecipherable symbols.

"Do you feel that?" whispered one of the Vextyr scholars, a young woman named Elara. "It’s like the air is... alive."

Sylvia nodded, her senses on high alert. The magic here was potent, ancient, and unlike anything she had ever encountered. As they moved deeper into the ruins, the walls began to shift, revealing carvings that seemed to depict some sort of ritual. Figures—humanoid but not quite like any known race—were shown being captured by humans, different from those of today. The humans in the murals were all young and flew on swords.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them rumbled, and Sylvia felt a pulse of energy surge through the ruins. The symbols on the walls began to glow with a faint, ethereal light.

"What is going on?" Seraphis hissed, his serpentine tail coiling in tension.

Sylvia’s heart raced. Whatever secrets these ruins held were far from dormant. And now, she feared, they had just awakened something far more powerful than any of them had anticipated.

Even more carefully than before, the group delved deeper into the ruins. Although the light from the surface no longer reached them, the team of four could still see, thanks to Felron, the other human scholar who had the foresight to bring a magic lamp.

When they finally reached a dead end, they decided to rest for a while. Seraphis, curled up around one of the decorative statues, was jostled awake when the ground began to rumble once more. His tail accidentally pressed down against a hidden lever, revealing a chamber, hidden away.

Cautiously, the group entered the room. The chamber was rather small, about the size of an alchemist's workshop, its walls lined with gleaming metal that shimmered unnaturally under the light from our magic lamp. The air was crisp and sterile, devoid of any scent.

There was a table to the left of the room, cluttered with an array of papers and bizarre constructs, their purpose entirely alien to me. In the center of the room, encased in glass, lay what I could only describe as a doll. It was a young girl appearing similar to a seven year old human child, with pure white skin and long silky hair, a mix of obsidian and silver. Behind her back rested iridescent crystals in the shape of feathered wings. Her eyes were closed and she was suspended within a nearly transparent golden substance. It was as if time itself had been halted, trapping her in a perpetual moment of stasis. The sight of her filled me with unease; she seemed to be calling out for help despite her eyes being closed and her limbs unmoving.

“We need to report this to the others” Sylvia finally out of her stupor enough to think rationally, “else we face undue suspicion”

“Felron should go”, Seraphis volunteered, “our group has two people from Vextyr and I can use some fire elementals for light”

Felron sighed, seeing the logic behind such a decision “that's fine with me, see you all later”.

After he left, Sylvia and the others continued to observe the girl when suddenly she opened her eyes. All at once, the ground shuddered, the runes on the walls lit up, some kind of purple liquid was injected into the capsule, and the girl screamed. Almost immediately following the injection of the fluid, the black-haired child closed her eyes once more, asleep.

“What? She is alive?” Sylvia shouts, hysterical.

“We have to get her out of there,” Seraphis shouts, preparing an attack, “can’t you all see that she is in pain?”

“Wait!” shouts Elara, “we need to think things through before we do anything rash”.

However, Elara’s warning came far too late. Seraphis’s spell had already reached the glass, shattering it.

Alarms began to flare, the runes on the walls turning an angry red. The young girl fell to the floor, sprawled out in the leftover substance. The collar on her neck glowed golden.