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The Man From Before
5 | 18 : Reflection of insecurity

5 | 18 : Reflection of insecurity

Elysia gently tucked the blankets around Liora, smoothing the edges and making sure the little girl was comfortable. The bed, covered in luxurious silk sheets and plush pillows, practically swallowed the small figure beneath it. The room was fit for a high-ranking noble, with intricately carved wooden furniture, golden trimmings, and the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air.

A large, canopied bed dominated the center, its posts wrapped in sheer, flowing drapes. Beside it, an ornate vanity stood, topped with a silver mirror that glinted in the soft candlelight. Elegant tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of ancient battles and grand hunts. The light from the blue moon bathed the room in a soft, ethereal glow, giving everything a dreamlike quality.

Liora, her voice soft and small, looked up at Elysia. "Can you tell me a story? Myssara always told me stories about her younger days."

Elysia gave her a gentle smile, but her tone was firm. "Not tonight, dear. You need to rest."

The little girl pouted slightly, her lips trembling with the faintest hint of disappointment. She snuggled deeper into the covers, the warmth and coziness of the bed slowly melting away her sadness. In just moments, her eyes fluttered shut, the comfort of the bed lulling her into a peaceful sleep.

Elysia remained by her bedside for a moment longer, watching Liora’s breathing steady as she drifted off. Then, with a quiet sigh, she rose and moved toward the large window, her eyes gazing out at the vast night sky. The pale light of the blue moon illuminated her features, casting a soft glow on her delicate face. The cool night air brushed against her skin, but the tranquility of the scene was comforting. She felt the weight of the world outside but found a brief peace in the moonlit room.

Her peaceful solitude was interrupted by the soft sound of footsteps behind her. Tristan approached quietly, his presence felt before he even spoke. He stepped up behind her and, without a word, gently draped a small blanket over her shoulders.

Elysia's breath caught, startled by the sudden gesture. "Your highness?" she asked, turning slightly, her eyes meeting his.

Tristan didn’t respond immediately, his eyes soft and warm as they held hers. There was something unsaid in his gaze, a depth of emotion that hung in the air between them. His hand lingered near her shoulder, and for a brief moment, it seemed as though he wanted to say something—something important.

But instead, his expression softened, and he simply said, "I'm grateful to have you by my side during this expedition, Elysia."

His hand reached up to touch her hair, gently brushing a lock between his fingers. He lifted it slightly, bringing it closer as he breathed in its soft scent, as though savoring the small, quiet moment. There was tenderness in his action, a silent confession of emotions he'd kept to himself for too long.

Elysia's eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat at the unexpected gesture. She could feel the warmth rising to her cheeks, and her lips pressed tightly together as she quickly averted her gaze, turning back to the window. Her pulse quickened, and she felt her breath catch as she tried to compose herself, unsure of how to react.

Tristan smiled at her reaction, unable to hide his amusement. The rare sight of Elysia, usually so composed and sharp, now flustered and uncertain, tugged at something deep within him. He wanted to tell her so much more, but seeing her like this—so adorably caught off guard—he couldn’t bring himself to push any further.

Breaking the silence, Tristan’s voice dropped to a more serious tone. "When this is all over, Elysia... there's something I want to ask you."

Elysia turned her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes, but she remained silent, waiting for him to continue. Tristan, however, hesitated, his resolve wavering for a moment. Instead of asking the question now, he simply smiled, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Before Elysia could respond, Tristan reached out, his hand moving toward hers, almost instinctively. Just as his fingers were about to graze her hand, a sudden voice rang out from outside the manor.

"TRISTAN! YOUR HIGHNESS!"

The shout shattered the quiet intimacy of the moment. Tristan froze, his hand still hovering just inches from Elysia’s, as both of them turned toward the window, startled. The voice was urgent, filled with alarm, and it pierced the stillness of the night.

Elysia quickly turned away from the window, her heart still racing from the moment, and adjusted the blanket around her shoulders. Tristan straightened up, his expression shifting from soft and warm to alert and serious.

Tristan and Elysia rushed down the grand staircase of the manor, their footsteps echoing in the vast, quiet hall. As they reached the first floor, they spotted Magnus in the entryway, bent over, panting as if he'd run miles without stopping.

“Magnus? What happened? Where’s Cedric?” Tristan asked, his voice urgent.

Magnus tried to speak through labored breaths. “Garrick… pant followed… people… pant Cedric’s still there…”

“Calm down, Magnus," Tristan said, gesturing to a nearby maid. "Fetch some water."

Magnus collapsed onto a chair, still breathing hard, as the maid hurried over with a cup of water. He took it, gulping it down between gasps. A few seconds passed, and he finally managed to catch his breath enough to speak clearly.

“Cedric and I were at the clock tower. We saw people, hundreds of them, walking through the streets like they weren’t in control of themselves. Garrick was leading them into the sewers. We followed them… and then we heard Garrick talking about Morgath. He’s brainwashing them, Tristan. He’s trying to bring him back. And there’s another name he mentioned—Caelumbras. Apparently, he’s working with Argoth.”

Tristan’s face hardened. “Wait—Argoth? He’s here?”

Magnus shook his head, still catching his breath. “No, not here, at least not that I saw. But Garrick mentioned him. It’s clear they’re planning something big. Cedric sent me back to get help. He’s still down there.”

Elysia's eyes grew wide as she processed the gravity of Magnus’ words. “This is worse than we thought.”

Tristan’s expression turned grim as he thought quickly. “If Garrick’s part of this, we need more than just the three of us. We need to rally reinforcements from Caelum and his men.”

Magnus stood up, determination replacing his fatigue. “I’m going with you. We have to help Cedric.”

Tristan nodded. “Absolutely. Elysia, let the maids know to watch over Liora and the others. Magnus and I will go to Caelum. We’re going to need every soldier we can get.”

Elysia wrapped her cloak tightly around her shoulders, ready to move. “Be careful,” she said, her voice soft but filled with concern.

Without wasting another second, the three of them headed out into the night. The streets were quiet, nearly deserted, with only a few lanterns lighting their way as they hurried through the city. The air was cool, and the weight of what Magnus had shared hung heavily between them.

They quickly made their way through the dimly lit streets toward the fort where Caelum resided. As they reached the fortified gates, Tristan took a deep breath, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. "We have to tell the maquis to take action now. If Garrick’s really involved in something this dangerous, we can’t afford to delay."

As they arrived at the fort, the trio quietly passed the slumbering guards, making their way through the dimly lit corridors to the Marquis’ office. The fort was silent, its stone walls giving off a sense of eerie calm. Tristan raised his hand to knock on the door, but Magnus, with little patience, pushed it open without hesitation and stormed inside.

“What is it?” Caelum asked, his voice calm and composed. He sat behind his desk, writing on a stack of documents, not even bothering to look up.

“We found out what’s going on,” Magnus said, his tone urgent. “Your man Garrick’s involved in something big. He’s leading people into the sewers, trying to revive Morgath. Cedric’s down there, and he needs help.”

Tristan stepped forward, trying to bring a sense of control to the situation. “We need to rally your soldiers, Marquis. Cedric’s alone in the sewers. If we don’t act fast, it could be too late.”

Caelum slowly removed the glasses from his face, folding them neatly before slipping them into his pocket. He stood up, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at the group. “So, your friend is alone… in the sewers?”

Magnus nodded firmly, his hand still gripping the hilt of his weapon. “Yes. We need to move, now.”

"Good," Caelum said, his voice low and cold. Then, in a flash, he pulled a mirror shard from his desk and hurled it straight at Magnus. Magnus, reacting just in time, raised his shield and deflected the sharp glass. It shattered against the wall behind him.

“What the hell is this?!” Magnus yelled, stepping back in shock.

Tristan, stunned, drew his sword. “Caelum, explain yourself! What are you doing?”

A dark, creeping shadow began to envelop Caelum's face, his features becoming obscured by the shifting blackness. His voice changed, growing deeper and more sinister, filled with malice. “You’ve all been quite the nuisance, haven’t you? Allow me to introduce myself properly,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “I am Caelumbras. The rightful servant of Lord Morgath.”

The revelation hit them hard. Tristan’s eyes widened, and Elysia stepped back, her hand reaching for the small dagger she carried. Magnus tightened his grip on his axe, his expression darkening with fury.

"You…" Tristan whispered, realizing the gravity of their situation.

Elysia instinctively tried to step back toward the door, but as she reached for the handle, it wouldn't budge. "It's locked," she muttered, glancing around in rising alarm.

Caelumbras smirked, a wave of his hand causing the ground beneath them to tremble. "This is as far as you go," he said with icy calm. Slowly, their shadows began to twist and warp, dark fluid shadows rising from their feet, oozing into forms that took on strange, terrifying shapes.

Tristan didn’t waste a moment. He lunged at Caelumbras, sword raised, intent on stopping whatever sorcery he was invoking. But his strike never reached its target. Something immense, invisible at first, blocked his blade with a resonating clang. Tristan’s eyes widened, and as he pulled his sword back, the creature became visible.

It was a towering leviathan, its entire body encased in thick, plated armor. Massive shields jutted out from its sides, and swords hung from its arms like extensions of its limbs. The creature's every movement was slow, deliberate, but the weight of its armor seemed almost unbearable. It stood like an impenetrable wall, each step causing a metallic echo throughout the room. The creature loomed over Tristan, its hulking form daring him to strike again.

Elysia gasped as a second creature began to take form beside her. It was unlike anything she had ever seen—a shimmering, prism-like beast that refracted light in all directions, creating an otherworldly glow. As it moved, the colors shifted, blending into dark, spectral hues that made the air feel heavy. The creature was both mesmerizing and unsettling, its body refracting light into jagged edges that gave it an unnatural, almost ethereal quality. It seemed to glide effortlessly, its sharp, crystalline edges constantly shifting, casting flickers of darkness around the room.

On the other side, Magnus watched as the ground beneath him cracked and crumbled. From the jagged floor rose a colossus made of stone, towering over him with immense power. The stone of its body was cracked, with pieces continuously falling away as if its very foundation was eroding. Yet it still stood tall, its fists clenched, its massive form casting a long shadow over the room. Every step it took sent tremors through the floor, but the cracks beneath it never stopped deepening. Despite its size and power, the colossus seemed constantly on the verge of collapse, its movements heavy and laborious, as if it was struggling to maintain its form.

Caelumbras watched from the other side of the room, his retreat slow but deliberate. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he saw the creatures fully formed, each one a towering presence in the room. "Do you see?" he called out mockingly. "They are your downfall." Before vanishing into the shadow.

Elysia’s creature shifted closer, the air around it shimmering with light and darkness in equal measure. Tristan’s armored leviathan began to advance, its shielded form blocking any path forward. The stone colossus moved with grinding steps, its towering form shaking the ground beneath Magnus.

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Cedric crouched low, his eyes carefully tracking Garrick's every move as the man continued to address the crowd below. He knew he had to act with precision—any mistake would blow his cover, and with no backup in sight, it was crucial he moved without a trace. Garrick had mentioned something about the revival of Morgath, and Cedric needed solid proof. His eyes darted to the platform behind Garrick, where a wooden table held scattered documents. Whatever was on those papers might be enough to unravel Garrick's plans.

He circled the perimeter of the massive room silently, his boots barely making a sound against the damp stone. The shadows were his ally, and he used them to blend into the walls as he found a rusty ladder leading upward. He glanced at it skeptically—climbing it too quickly could draw attention, but moving too slowly could be just as risky. Keeping his movements fluid but careful, he ascended the ladder. Every creak of metal under his weight made him wince, but he moved deliberately, his focus unbroken.

Reaching the top, he found himself on a narrow ledge running along the upper section of the massive room. From here, he had a perfect vantage point over the crowd and the platform below. His gaze moved over the wooden beams crisscrossing the room beneath him. These beams supported the structure, and they would now support his stealthy approach.

Balancing himself, Cedric began to move across the beams, his steps slow and calculated. Every footfall was light, his weight evenly distributed to avoid any creaking or sudden shifts in the wood. The air down here was thick with the musty smell of damp stone, and the distant trickle of water echoed through the sewer, masking the subtle sounds of his movement. Faylinn, tucked securely inside his shirt, peeked out occasionally, her glowing eyes watching as they moved ever closer to the platform.

Cedric’s pulse quickened when he saw the documents more clearly now—a disorganized mess of papers that could contain vital information. He moved cautiously, his eyes darting to the lanterns hanging around the room, their soft flickering flames illuminating just enough for Garrick and the crowd below. Cedric knew he had to dim the lights—just enough to create a cover of darkness, but not so much that it would alert anyone.

He reached into his pouch and pulled out a small bag of dampfire dust. This dust was specifically designed to extinguish flames without smoke or sound. It was a rare item, but invaluable in situations like this. Cedric carefully weighed the dust in his hand, then, with precise control, he tossed a small handful toward the nearest lantern. The flame sputtered briefly, then died out, casting a small area of the room into shadow.

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No one below seemed to notice. Encouraged, Cedric repeated the process with two more lanterns, each one quietly extinguished with a well-placed toss of the dust. The room was now considerably darker, but still not enough to draw suspicion. It was just what Cedric needed.

He eyed the large, handmade chandelier hanging above the crowd. If he could snuff out the chandelier's light, it would provide the perfect cover for his move on the documents. Cedric felt the weight of the last dampfire pouch in his hand. Taking a deep breath, he aimed and threw the pouch toward the chandelier. Using his power, he slowed the bag mid-air, ensuring it landed gently, the dust settling over the flames. One by one, the lights flickered out, casting the platform into momentary darkness.

This was his chance. He crouched low, securing the vine Faylinn had woven for him, and slowly lowered himself down from the beam, his movements deliberate. The darkness masked his descent, but he knew he had to move carefully—any noise would give him away. Faylinn's vine was his lifeline, keeping him tethered to the beam above while he inched closer to the platform.

The air felt colder down here, the dampness clinging to his skin as he finally touched down silently on the platform. The crowd was oblivious, their attention still focused on Garrick, who was continuing his speech. Cedric moved with the grace of a shadow, staying low as he crept toward the table. His heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his breathing steady, knowing that any misstep could cost him everything.

Finally, he reached the table. His eyes scanned the documents quickly—ledgers, shipping manifests, letters. One in particular caught his attention. It bore the seal of a demon lord—Morgath's name scribbled across it. Cedric’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t have time to read it here. He swiftly gathered the papers, rolling them tightly and slipping them into his pouch.

At that moment, Garrick turned toward the table, fumbling for a match to relight the extinguished chandelier. Cedric’s pulse quickened, but he didn’t panic. With a smooth movement, he pulled himself back up using Faylinn’s vine just as Garrick was about to light the candle. Faylinn tightened her grip, helping him ascend quickly but quietly, her tiny mews barely audible as she assisted him.

Cedric reached the beams once more, pulling himself up just in time. He crouched low, his body pressed against the cold wood as Garrick relit the chandelier, casting light across the platform again. Cedric remained completely still, watching as Garrick cursed under his breath, clearly frustrated by the brief blackout.

Cedric clung tightly to the wooden beam, keeping himself as steady as possible while he rifled through the documents he had stolen. His breath was shallow, and he made sure to keep his movements slow and deliberate, knowing that one wrong sound could alert Garrick or the crowd below. His fingers flipped through the papers, scanning them quickly in the dim light.

Transaction histories, trade records, and suspiciously inflated sales—this was the evidence he needed. Cedric furrowed his brow. It wasn’t exactly what he was hoping for, but it was enough to expose Garrick’s illegal operations. If he could get these documents to Marquis Caelum, it would be a major blow to Garrick's plans. However, there was nothing here about Morgath or the revival of the demon lord.

He took a deep breath, carefully tucking the documents into his coat. Not ideal, but it’s a start. He glanced down again at the crowd, who were still oblivious to his presence. Garrick stood near the table, lighting candles to replace the ones Cedric had extinguished.

Time to get out of here.

He rose slowly, balancing himself on the narrow beam, and began making his way back toward the ladder. His eyes scanned the room below, and he moved cautiously, keeping his steps light and deliberate. Each creak of the wood beneath him made his heart pound. Just a little farther.

Finally, he reached the ledge where the ladder was fixed. Cedric glanced up, ready to pull himself up and away from the chaos below. He took one last look down, ensuring no one had noticed his movements—everything seemed calm.

Just as he shifted his gaze upward and reached for the ladder, a cold, vice-like grip closed around his throat.

Cedric's eyes widened in shock as he was lifted off the wooden beam, his feet dangling helplessly. He gasped for air, his hands scrambling to free himself from the grip. His eyes darted to his attacker: a shadowy figure with a mass of heads protruding from its shifting form, each head trembling and changing shape in a constant, eerie flux. None of the heads looked fully formed, their features a grotesque mimicry of faces that never settled.

Instinctively, Cedric's hand went for his sword, but before he could draw it, the creature flung him through the air. He barely had time to react as he crashed onto the platform below. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through his body, and for a moment, his vision blurred. Faylinn's vines shot out to try and catch him, but they only managed to soften his fall slightly.

As Cedric lay there, trying to gather his bearings, he realized he was no longer hidden in the shadows. The crowd’s murmurs grew louder, and he glanced up to see hundreds of eyes staring at him.

Garrick, standing near the edge of the platform, turned with a look of pure fury. His voice rang out through the chamber. "You!"

All eyes were on Cedric now, the calm, obedient trance that had held the crowd was now replaced with alarm and anger. The air was tense, and Cedric knew he was out of time. Garrick’s voice boomed again, and he pointed directly at him.

"Seize him!"

Cedric sensed a shift in the atmosphere around him—something was happening within the crowd. Whispers turned to murmurs, and some of the citizens began to move with a strange, unnatural fluidity. But he didn’t have time to figure out what was happening; he needed to escape.

Garrick, eyes blazing with anger, lunged at him with a spear. Cedric reacted instinctively, bringing his sword up to block the thrust. The clang of metal on metal echoed through the chamber. Garrick smirked, and the spear in his hands seemed to shimmer for a brief moment. Before Cedric could react, the spear shifted in form, transforming into a dagger. Garrick closed the distance in an instant, aiming to drive the blade into Cedric's side.

Vines burst forth from the ground just in time, wrapping around Garrick's arms and pulling him back, disrupting his attack. Cedric seized the opportunity and swung his sword in a wide arc, aiming to finish Garrick before he could adapt. But Garrick’s weapon morphed again, elongating into a sword that parried Cedric's strike, the force sending Garrick stumbling back onto the ground.

Cedric tightened his grip on his sword, ready to press the attack. He raised his hand, intending to use his power to slow Garrick down, to stop him from transforming his weapon again. The air around Garrick thickened, his movements becoming sluggish. Cedric darted forward, closing the gap in a heartbeat.

But just as he was about to strike, something heavy slammed into him from the side, knocking him off balance. He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him. When he looked up, his heart sank. It was one of the creatures from last night, its iridescent scales glistening in the dim light. Its many faces twisted in grotesque, silent screams.

Cedric scrambled to his feet, but more of the creatures emerged from the shadows, surrounding him. They moved with eerie fluidity, their masked faces turning to fixate on him. He was trapped. Garrick was back on his feet, a twisted grin on his face as he watched the creatures close in.

Faylinn hissed from within his shirt, ready to fight, but Cedric knew they were outnumbered. His mind raced, searching for a way out, but the creatures in the sewer room are closing in around him.

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Tristan collided with the armored leviathan, the impact sending shockwaves through the room. The creature's form was massive and imposing, covered in thick, impenetrable armor. Tristan summoned his fire, the heat radiating off him in waves as he directed a torrent of flames at the leviathan. The room was lit up with a fierce orange glow as the fire roared toward the creature. Magnus, standing nearby, felt the intense heat, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

But to Tristan's surprise and frustration, the leviathan moved through the fire unfazed, its armor absorbing the flames without so much as a scorch mark. The creature's eyes, glowing with an eerie light, bore into Tristan as it advanced, swinging its massive armored tail. Tristan barely managed to dodge, rolling to the side as the tail smashed into the stone floor, leaving a deep crater.

Magnus, meanwhile, was locked in combat with the stone colossus. The creature towered over him, its body made up of rough, crumbling stone that looked ancient and worn yet exuded a sense of unyielding power. It swung its massive arms, each hit carrying the weight of a falling boulder. Magnus raised his shield just in time to block a blow, but the sheer force behind the strike pushed him back, his feet skidding across the floor.

"These things aren't like the ones from last night," Magnus grunted, struggling to maintain his footing as he swung his axe at the colossus. The blade struck with a loud clang, biting into the stone. But it didn't sink in deep enough to do any real damage; the creature's outer layer seemed almost impenetrable.

Magnus gritted his teeth, pulling his axe free and preparing for another strike. He aimed for what looked like a weaker spot in the creature's structure, hoping to find a chink in its armor. But every swing met with the same resistance—the stone was simply too tough.

Tristan, on the other side of the room, unleashed a flurry of attacks, his sword moving with blinding speed. He aimed for the joints and gaps in the leviathan's armor, trying to find a weakness. But every strike seemed to glance off, leaving only minor scratches on the creature's hide. The leviathan retaliated with a crushing blow, forcing Tristan to leap back to avoid being crushed under its weight.

The room echoed with the sound of clashing metal and stone as both Tristan and Magnus fought desperately against their respective opponents. Every move they made was met with resistance, every attack countered by the sheer durability of the creatures they faced.

Magnus's axe crashed into the stone colossus again and again, each hit sending sparks flying, but the colossus remained standing, its form barely wavering. It swung its massive fist, and Magnus barely managed to raise his shield in time, the force of the impact reverberating up his arm.

Tristan, breathing heavily, circled the leviathan, looking for an opening. He gathered his strength, focusing his power into one final, powerful strike. Flames erupted around his blade as he lunged forward, aiming for the leviathan's head. But the creature's tail whipped around with lightning speed, deflecting the blow and sending Tristan sprawling across the floor.

Beside Tristan, the prism beast approached Elysia with a fluid, almost hypnotic grace. Its body seemed to refract the light around it, casting eerie, shifting patterns on the walls. Elysia tightened her grip on her dagger, channeling her power into it. The blade began to glow, a brilliant white light that shone like a beacon in the dimly lit room. She lunged forward, aiming for the creature's core, but just as she was about to strike, the prism beast halted in its tracks.

A sudden burst of blinding light erupted from the creature, flooding the entire room. Elysia shielded her eyes, staggering back as the intense flash disoriented her. Tristan and Magnus were similarly affected, blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear their vision. The disorienting radiance threw off their balance, causing them to lose their stance.

Taking advantage of the moment, the leviathan charged at Tristan with the force of a battering ram. Tristan barely had time to brace himself as the creature slammed into him, the impact sending him crashing into the wall. The force was so great that the stone wall shattered upon impact, and Tristan was hurled through it, landing heavily in the hallway outside the room.

Magnus, meanwhile, was struggling against the stone colossus. The giant creature bore down on him with relentless power, its massive fists hammering against his shield. Each blow felt like an avalanche, pushing Magnus to his knees as he tried to hold his ground. He gritted his teeth, straining against the overwhelming force.

Elysia, still reeling from the light burst, attempted to gather herself. The prism beast advanced again, its presence both mesmerizing and menacing. She swung her dagger, but her movements were sluggish, her eyes still adjusting to the aftermath of the blinding flash. The creature deflected her strikes effortlessly, its body shifting and bending like light through a prism.

"Get it together!" Tristan’s voice echoed across the shattered room. He had pulled himself up from the rubble, his gaze sharp despite the dirt and blood on his face. "We need to work together! Focus on one at a time!"

Magnus, on his knees under the colossus's relentless assault, took a deep breath. He needed to regroup. Seeing Elysia struggling against the prism beast, he knew Tristan was right. They had to concentrate their efforts. Summoning all his strength, Magnus pushed back against the colossus’s attack, creating just enough space to dash toward Elysia.

"Hang on!" he shouted, reaching her in a swift movement. He grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the prism beast's grasp. "Fall back to Tristan!"

They retreated towards Tristan, who had already prepared himself for another assault. The colossus moved to block their path, its hulking form casting a long shadow in the room. Magnus threw up his shield just in time to intercept another crushing blow. The impact resonated through his bones, but he held firm.

Just as they thought they had a brief respite, the prism beast lunged again, targeting Magnus with its refracted light. His armor formed just in time, glowing briefly before absorbing the brunt of the tackle. The force knocked him back, but he managed to stay on his feet, his grip on Elysia’s arm unyielding.

"Tristan, now!" Magnus shouted, looking to his prince.

Tristan summoned his power, the air around him crackling with energy as flames erupted from his outstretched hands. The blazing inferno roared to life, swirling around the prism beast in a searing embrace. The creature writhed within the flames, its refracted light flickering and dimming under the intense heat.

Magnus wasted no time. He charged at the prism beast, his axe raised high. Elysia, standing behind him, extended both her hands towards him, channeling her power. A faint glow enveloped Magnus's axe, amplifying its power and giving it a supernatural edge.

The prism beast, sensing imminent danger, attempted to blind them with another burst of light. But this time, Magnus was ready. He closed his eyes briefly, relying on his other senses to guide him. With a mighty swing, he brought the glowing axe down with all his strength. The blade connected with the beast, cleaving through its shimmering form with a thunderous crack.

The creature let out a silent scream, its refracted light shattering into a million pieces. The fragments of its body dispersed into the air, dissipating like glittering dust in the aftermath of a fireworks display. Tristan and Elysia moved quickly to the next target, their attention now focused on the armored leviathan.

The armored leviathan turned its head toward Tristan and Elysia, its many eyes gleaming beneath the heavy armor plates that covered its massive form. Tristan, not wasting a moment, summoned his fire once more. The flames roared to life around him, swirling into a vortex of searing heat. He directed the inferno toward the leviathan, engulfing it in a torrent of fire.

However, the flames that should have reduced any normal creature to ash merely licked at the leviathan's armor. The creature stood firm, the fire cascading off its scales like water. It seemed impervious to the flames, its armored hide glowing but unscathed. Tristan's eyes widened in shock and frustration. "Why isn't it burning?" he muttered.

Elysia, seeing the futility of the direct assault, moved to support Tristan. She raised her hands, sending a surge of radiant energy toward him, empowering his next attack. "We need to break through its armor somehow," she called out, her eyes scanning the leviathan for any sign of weakness.

Magnus, realizing the situation, decided to try a different approach. "I'll smash through it!" He circled around the leviathan, looking for another opening to strike, the stone colossus moved with surprising speed. Its massive fist swung toward Magnus, threatening to crush him with a single blow. Magnus quickly raised his shield to block, but the sheer force of the impact pushed him back, his feet skidding against the stone floor.

"Magnus, watch out!" Tristan shouted, seeing the colossus preparing for another strike. He knew they couldn't afford to let it interfere, not when they were so close to taking down the leviathan.

Tristan redirected his focus momentarily, summoning his power to counter the colossus. Flames erupted from his hands, swirling into a concentrated blast that engulfed the colossus's arm. The intense heat caused the stone to crack and fracture, halting the creature's movement. It groaned, its massive form trembling as it struggled against the fiery assault.

"Now's your chance!" Tristan called out to Magnus.

Magnus nodded, taking the brief window of opportunity Tristan had created. He dashed toward the leviathan, his axe gleaming with the light Elysia had imbued into it. The leviathan was momentarily distracted, still recovering from the earlier assault, its focus divided between its attackers.

Magnus moved swiftly, swinging his axe in a wide arc. The blade connected with the already-damaged section of the leviathan's armor, shattering through the remaining plates with a powerful strike. The creature let out a roar of pain as the armor splintered away, exposing more of its vulnerable flesh.

Seeing the opening Magnus had created, Tristan summoned his fire once more, directing it into the exposed wound. The flames seared through the leviathan's body, causing it to thrash in agony. Elysia joined in, sending another blast of radiant energy toward the beast, targeting its exposed flesh.

The leviathan writhed under the combined assault, its once-impenetrable defenses now crumbling away. With each attack, its movements grew weaker, its roars more desperate. Magnus struck again, his axe cleaving into the creature’s side, and Tristan drove his fiery blade into the core of its body.

The leviathan let out one final, tortured scream before collapsing to the ground, its massive form convulsing as it succumbed to the onslaught. Its once-formidable presence was now reduced to a broken, smoldering heap.

Tristan turned his attention back to the colossus, which was now struggling to free itself from the damage Tristan's flames had inflicted. "Finish it off!" he urged Magnus.

Magnus charged toward the colossus, his eyes locked onto the fissures they had created earlier. Elysia, standing a bit further back, focused her energy on him. A faint, shimmering light extended from her hands, weaving through the air and wrapping around Magnus. It wasn't strong healing, not from this distance, but it was enough to dull the pain, to ease his breathing just a little as he moved in for another strike.

The colossus swung one of its massive arms down at Magnus. He didn't have time to dodge, so he activated his armor's full defensive power. The magical plates glowed, creating a barrier around him. The colossal limb struck him with the force of a landslide. His armor absorbed most of the impact, but the blow still sent a shockwave through his body, causing a momentary blur of pain.

Elysia watched intently, her hands glowing brighter as she channeled what healing she could from the distance. She saw Magnus stagger, his face contorting with pain, but he didn’t fall. Her magic couldn’t mend broken bones or deep wounds from this range, but it could soothe the agony, help him push through it, keep him moving forward when he might have otherwise crumbled.

Tristan unleashed another wave of fire at the colossus, the flames cascading over its rocky form, heating and weakening it. "Now, Magnus!" Tristan shouted.

Magnus roared in response, feeling the surge of Elysia’s magic dulling the sharpness of his injuries. He raised his axe and swung at the colossus, aiming for the weakened spot. His blade struck true, carving deeper into the stone. The colossus groaned, its form shuddering under the combined assault.

The colossus raised its arm for another strike, but Magnus braced himself. His armor flared again as the stone limb came crashing down on him. The impact resonated through his bones, but he felt the soft, cool touch of Elysia’s healing magic wrapping around his chest, easing the pressure, allowing him to hold his ground.

"Magnus, move!" Elysia called out, her voice strained as she poured more energy into the healing spell. Even though it wasn't strong enough to completely heal him, it was just enough to keep him in the fight.

Magnus nodded, pushing back against the colossus. He grunted through gritted teeth, every muscle straining as he swung his axe once more. This time, Elysia sent a pulse of light toward the creature, the energy slipping into the cracks and fissures Magnus had opened.

The light illuminated the colossus from within, spreading through its body like a network of glowing veins. Tristan added his flames to the mix, the fire seeping into the cracks, merging with the light. The colossus trembled, its massive form struggling to maintain cohesion under the assault.

With a final, mighty swing, Magnus drove his axe into the colossus's core. The impact sent a shockwave through the creature, shattering the stone from within. The colossus let out a groan as it began to collapse, its massive form crumbling into a heap of rubble at Magnus's feet.

Breathing heavily, Magnus took a step back, his armor dimming as the protective magic faded. He looked up to Elysia, her hands still glowing faintly with healing energy. Despite the pain and exhaustion, he managed a nod of thanks. Her magic had kept him in the fight, allowing him to withstand the colossus's onslaught and deliver the final blow.

After the final creature crumbled to dust, the room fell eerily silent. Magnus, Tristan, and Elysia stood amidst the debris, breathing heavily, their weapons still at the ready. The remnants of their foes littered the floor, but the one they sought was nowhere to be seen.

Tristan scanned the room, his eyes narrowing as he searched every shadowed corner. "Where is he?" he muttered, frustration lacing his voice. "Caelumbras was right here."

Magnus, still catching his breath, turned slowly in a circle, his axe ready in his hands. "He must have slipped away during the fight. We were too focused on those... things."

Tristan nodded, glancing around the room. "We can't waste time looking for him now. Cedric's still out there and could be in danger."

Magnus grunted in agreement, his eyes scanning the room as if expecting Caelumbras to reappear from the shadows. "Let's get to Cedric before it's too late."

Elysia, her hands glowing faintly, moved closer to Magnus. She reached out, her light channeling into him.

Magnus straightened up, feeling the pain ease slightly. "Thanks," he muttered, giving her a quick nod of gratitude.

"Let's move," Tristan said firmly. "We need to regroup with Cedric and figure out our next move."

The three of them hurried out of the office, their steps quick and purposeful, hoping they weren't already too late to intervene in whatever plans Caelumbras and Garrick had in store.

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Cedric glanced around, his eyes darting from one creature to another. They were closing in, their eerie forms surrounding him on all sides. Garrick was already back on his feet, a sinister smirk spreading across his face.

Faylinn, sensing the danger, summoned vines that erupted from the ground, creating a brief barrier between Cedric and the encroaching horde. It wasn't much, but it bought him a few precious seconds to think.

He knew he couldn't fight his way out; the numbers were against him. His mind raced, searching for a way to escape. Spotting the room's entrance, he made a quick decision. Raising his hand toward it, he focused his power and blinked, his form vanishing from the platform.

In an instant, he reappeared at the entrance, but before he could make his next move, the shadowy figure was there, waiting for him. Its unnatural speed and awareness caught him off guard. Its grasp was iron-like as it seized him by the throat again, lifting him effortlessly before hurling him back.

Cedric crashed onto the platform, pain jolting through his body. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes darting between the creatures and the shadow figure. This was bad. Every time he tried to escape, the figure was one step ahead, anticipating his every move. He couldn't teleport out, and fighting his way through was a fool's errand. He needed to come up with another plan, and fast.

The creatures started to close in again, and Cedric knew he had to find a way out of this, somehow.