With the moon rising over the desert sands, the ancient city of Shar-Kesh unfolded before them, bathed in an eerie silver glow. Its vast ruins sprawled across the landscape like a skeletal memory of its former grandeur, as though the city itself were suspended between time and eternity. Malin, Maya, and Abel stood at the edge of the final mountain, their gazes fixed upon the sprawling remains of the city, silhouetted against the pale light of the moon.
Shar-Kesh stretched in every direction, an endless labyrinth of crumbling archways, towering columns, and broken pathways weaving through half-buried courtyards and silent plazas. Massive pillars rose from the sand like ancient sentinels, each carved with long-forgotten symbols and scripts that seemed to flicker in the moonlight, whispering secrets to any who dared to listen. Some structures still held their domed roofs and minarets, though these were weathered and worn, bearing the scars of centuries of desert storms.
The heart of the city was dominated by a grand temple, towering over the ruins like a defiant relic of Shar-Kesh's lost glory. Its dome, fractured and worn, seemed to glimmer under the moon’s light, casting haunting shadows across the surrounding shrines and obelisks. The temple stood on a raised platform, its stone walls covered in faded reliefs and carvings of a bygone era, recounting tales of kings, mystical rites, and battles fought in the name of gods long forgotten.
"That’s it," Malin whispered, awe evident in his voice. This city, both ghostly and magnificent, felt like a place where the boundaries between the mortal and the divine blurred, a place that held secrets and power beyond comprehension.
"How exactly are we supposed to find the Sword of Righteousness here?" Maya asked, her voice a mix of wonder and trepidation as she scanned the labyrinth of stone and shadow below.
Malin hesitated, eyes narrowing as he studied the landscape. "I... I don’t know," he admitted, the weight of their mission pressing down on him. Abel, standing beside him, let out a huff of frustration, clearly annoyed by the lack of a clear plan.
"Really? We’ve come all this way, and you don’t have a clue?" Abel muttered, irritation creeping into his voice. "I thought you’d at least have some idea by now."
Malin shot him a sharp look, regaining his composure. "Just give me a moment, alright? I need to think."
He took a deep breath, letting his mind wander over the landscape, his gaze drifting over the ruins as though they might somehow reveal their secrets to him. And then, he saw it—a faint light, like a small sun, glowing softly from the temple at the furthest end of the ruins. It was almost imperceptible, but there it was, radiating a gentle warmth amidst the cold stone.
"There," Malin pointed toward the distant temple, his voice filled with a new determination. "That’s where it is. The Sword of Righteousness is in that temple."
Maya and Abel followed his gaze, their eyes narrowing as they locked onto the faint glow. They exchanged a look of understanding, each realizing the significance of what lay ahead.
"This is it," Abel said, his tone serious. "We get the sword, and we get out of here. No unnecessary detours, no wasting time. We’re in and out, understand?"
Malin nodded, though a sense of unease gnawed at him. "Agreed. But… let’s be cautious. Something feels… off. I have a feeling there’s more here than just an ancient relic."
Maya glanced at him, sharing his unease. "It could be the dragon. Or something worse."
Abel squared his shoulders, a confident look in his eyes. "If it’s not a dragon, I’m sure I can handle it. I am the strongest Kalkan since my great-grandfather. Whatever’s down there doesn’t stand a chance."
They all shared a look, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation. Whatever lay in the shadows of Shar-Kesh, they would face it together. Taking a deep breath, they nudged their lizards forward, beginning their descent from the final mountain into the heart of the ancient city.
The city of Shar-Kesh lay eerily silent as Malin, Maya, and Abel moved cautiously through its deserted streets, shadows stretching under the full moon’s watchful gaze. Each step seemed to echo too loudly, each breath too heavy, and though the city was vast, it felt as if the weight of a thousand souls was pressing upon them. The silence was suffocating, amplifying every creak of ancient stone, every whisper of wind that slipped through the crumbling ruins. It gnawed at their nerves, an unseen presence that made their hearts pound with an inexplicable dread.
They knew that the ghoulish entities could appear at any moment; the moon was fully risen now, marking the time when those twisted beings would hunt again. And then there was Ajax, the monstrous dragon that lurked somewhere in the mountains surrounding them. The thought of awakening that beast, of drawing its wrath in addition to whatever awaited them in the depths of the temple, was enough to make their blood run cold. They could only hope that the dragon was slumbering, undisturbed by their presence. And yet, with every shadow they passed, every gust of wind that rustled through broken stone, it was as if Shar-Kesh itself was watching, waiting.
The trio walked through the remnants of ancient battles, where shattered weapons and armor lay strewn about in the sand, silent testimony to the clash between the Kalkans and the Nephilim. Scorch marks marred the stone walls, deep cracks spiderwebbing through the ground as though a god’s wrath had been unleashed here. They paused before a vast scar in the earth, the result of a single sword stroke—a mark of the last stand of those who had come before them. Malin could almost feel the echoes of that battle, a desperate fight etched into the ruins, now a haunted relic under the pale moon.
At last, they arrived before the temple, a towering structure that loomed over them, its weathered walls barely holding together. But Maya’s sharp gaze caught something strange. She grabbed Abel’s arm, halting him just as he was about to march confidently forward.
“Wait,” she murmured, her eyes narrowing as she inspected the walls. “This isn’t right… Look closely.”
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Malin and Abel followed her gaze, noticing the haphazard stones, the mismatched patches that clearly didn’t belong. Parts of the temple had been rebuilt—crudely, as though someone had tried to piece it back together without truly understanding its design. It was an unsettling sight, as if this sacred place had been desecrated and crudely patched up by unfamiliar hands.
Malin’s face paled as the realization sank in. “If someone—or something—went to the trouble of rebuilding this temple, it means… someone’s living here. Or worse… guarding it.”
An oppressive tension hung in the air, surrounding the temple like a veil of dread. Each of them felt it instinctively—the temple was alive with some dark intent, a predator waiting to trap them in its maw. The urge to retreat clawed at their minds, an instinctive desire to back away, to escape. They took an unconscious step backward, each one grasping the seriousness of the danger ahead.
But then, breaking the silence of the night, came the haunting melody that had haunted their steps—the Song of the Lost. Low, mournful voices drifted on the wind, drawing closer and closer, their unholy chorus echoing through the city. They turned, seeing shadows slipping between the buildings, the flicker of ghastly figures emerging from the darkness. The ghoulish beings were upon them, closing in, their ragged robes flapping like shredded sails in the moonlight.
Abel glanced at Maya, his voice unusually soft, weighted with something unspoken. “Maya… if things go wrong, I want you to know—you were always the one. The only woman I ever wanted to be with. The only woman I’ve ever loved.”
Maya’s eyes glistened as she looked at him, a single tear escaping down her cheek. She reached out, grasping his hand, her voice barely a whisper. “And you… you’re the only one I’ve ever truly loved, Abel.”
Malin watched the exchange, feeling both humbled and burdened by the weight of their words. He drew in a deep breath, his thoughts shifting to Nahra, to the life he wanted to build with her, a life he could only have if he succeeded here. The Son’s words echoed in his mind—he needed to have faith, to trust in the Origin’s plan. He might not fully understand what that meant yet, but he would not falter now.
The ghastly song grew louder, the approaching footsteps of the lost echoing through the streets as the silence of the city clashed with the dreadful melody. Malin looked up at the sky, taking in the stars one last time, a small, hopeful smile crossing his face.
“I got what I wished for,” he whispered to himself, a quiet resolve lighting his gaze.
With one final look to the heavens, he spurred his lizard forward, charging headlong into the temple with a burst of courage that surprised even himself. Abel and Maya, bolstered by his audacity, shared a quick, determined glance before racing after him. Whatever awaited them inside, they would face it together, prepared to confront the unknown horrors that lay in wait. This was their moment—the final showdown awaited, and they would not retreat.
The trio stepped into the heart of the temple, their breaths held as they took in the massive chamber that lay before them. There, at the center, stood a towering figure—a skeletal giant encased in ancient, weathered armor, fragments of decay clinging to the rusted metal like shadows of a long-lost era. Its form was enormous, dwarfing anything Malin had ever seen, with bones as thick as tree trunks and armor that looked as if it had been forged from the darkest depths of the earth. The skull alone seemed to glare down at them, empty sockets glowing faintly with an otherworldly fire, as if fueled by the wrath of ages.
The giant’s enormous blade, jagged and ancient, dragged across the ground, leaving deep, resonant scratches as it moved forward, each step thundering through the chamber. It raised its head, a hollow echo escaping its mouth, a sound that seemed to resonate from the very core of its being.
"Who dares to enter this sacred place?" it asked, its voice like the rumbling of distant thunder, each word vibrating through the ground beneath them. The towering skeleton leaned forward, scrutinizing each of them with a chilling intensity, until its empty gaze settled on Abel. A flicker of recognition flashed in those hollow eyes, and the creature’s posture shifted, its grip tightening on the hilt of its massive sword.
"A Kalkan," it hissed, a venomous sneer twisting its hollow expression. "Come to defile this place once more, have you? I see the blood of my kin upon you. The Kalkan Federation—the butchers of my people." The skeletal king's voice turned into a growl, filled with ancient hatred. "I will never allow you, or any of your kind, to lay a hand on the Sword of Righteousness."
As it spoke, Malin’s eyes darted past the giant, catching sight of the weapon they had come so far to find. The Sword of Righteousness lay embedded in a stone altar behind the giant, shining with an ethereal light, its blade gleaming like a shard of sunlight piercing through the darkness. It called to him, urging him forward, yet the skeletal king—Goliath, as he declared himself, the King of the Nephilim—stood as an immovable barrier between them and their prize.
Malin, Abel, and Maya exchanged a glance, each of them knowing that this was the moment they had prepared for, the fight they could not avoid. Abel took a step forward, his jaw set with determination, his eyes burning with a fierce resolve. He reached into his satchel, tossing a spare sword to Malin, who caught it with both hands, gripping the unfamiliar weapon tightly.
Abel raised his own sword, his shield held firm as he met Goliath’s gaze. “Then this is where we prove ourselves,” he muttered, a smirk pulling at his lips. Maya, beside him, readied her spear, her other hand clutching a sword, her gaze as steady as his.
Their powers ignited in unison, flames curling around Abel’s blade, illuminating the chamber with a fierce, warm glow. Opposite him, water began to ripple and flow around Maya’s spear, droplets shimmering in the dim light as they coalesced into a sharp, liquid blade. Their elements mingled in the air, a subtle promise of the fire and water they would unleash in this ancient battleground.
Malin took a deep breath, steadying his nerves as he looked between his two companions. They had made it clear—his task was to reach the sword, to retrieve it while they held the ancient king at bay. It was a daunting mission, but as he felt the weight of the blade in his hands, a surprising surge of courage welled up within him. For Nahra, for their future, he would see this through.
Abel shot him a determined glance. “Malin, don’t wait for us. Get to the sword. Whatever happens, keep moving.”
Maya nodded, her face softened with encouragement. “We’ll buy you the time you need. Just… don’t let it be in vain, alright?”
Malin nodded, gripping the sword tightly as he readied himself. With one final look of resolve, Abel and Maya turned their attention back to Goliath, whose skeletal grin twisted in anticipation, hollow eyes blazing with a lust for battle. Then, with a roar, Abel and Maya charged, their elemental powers bursting to life as they struck at the ancient king.
Abel’s flames licked against the skeletal armor, casting fiery reflections that danced in the hollows of Goliath’s bones. Maya’s water lashed out, twisting around her spear like a serpent, splashing against the giant’s defenses with force enough to crack stone. Together, they fought with practiced coordination, their attacks flowing in perfect harmony as they sought to keep the giant’s attention on them.
Meanwhile, Malin slipped through the chaos, darting between fallen stones and broken pillars, his eyes locked on the gleaming sword. His heart pounded with every step, each moment filled with both fear and exhilaration as he dodged the tremors of Goliath’s wrathful blows.