The cavern swallowed the light, but the Azure Shamshir's faint blue glow cut through the darkness like a sliver of dawn. Moisture hung thick in the air, clinging to the jagged walls, dripping endlessly into a pool as black as spilled ink. The silence was profound—an absence so complete it pressed against Mo's senses, demanding every ounce of attention.
He moved cautiously, feet sinking slightly into the damp earth as if the very ground beneath him was reluctant to be disturbed. The recent battle with the stone guardian echoed in his muscles, a dull ache mingling with the sharp alertness that refused to fade. There was more here—beneath the stone, beneath the water, beneath the silence—something ancient, watching.
Aylen stayed close, her presence steady and unyielding. Her gaze swept the chamber, ever alert. She didn't need to speak; Mo could feel the same thread of unease threading between them.
The cavern opened wider here, the ceiling arching overhead in darkness that swallowed sound and light. At the center was the still pool, its surface impossibly smooth, reflecting nothing but shadow and faint, twisting patterns of the glowing runes etched around its edge. Those runes pulsed with a soft, ancient power, their faded lines alive under the sword's azure light.
Mo knelt at the pool's edge, studying the water. His own reflection stared back, but it was broken, fractured by ripples that hadn't come from any visible disturbance. The Shamshir thrummed faintly against his palm, resonating with the pulse beneath the water's surface.
Running his fingers along the carved runes, he felt the history embedded in the stone—whispers of storms, forgotten battles, and promises etched into the earth before kingdoms rose or fell. It was a power that shaped the land itself.
"This place… it's a memory," Mo said softly. "Not just a hiding place."
Aylen's voice was low, steady. "And a trap. The stone beast wasn't guarding treasure—it was guarding a secret. Something worth killing for."
Mo stood, eyes never leaving the pool. "The Outer Vultures knew this. They want what lies beneath here. They always do."
A sharp breeze blew through the cavern's entrance, carrying with it the scent of rain and something metallic, a subtle warning that time was running thin. The air crackled faintly—unseen energy brushing the edges of reality.
Aylen slid closer, her voice barely a whisper. "We're walking into a storm, Mo. But storms break things—and sometimes they make new paths."
He glanced at her, catching the flicker of something unspoken—hope, resolve, and maybe a flicker of something else he wasn't ready to name.
"I don't plan on leaving empty-handed," he said, tightening his grip on the Shamshir's hilt. "Whatever this place holds, it's ours to find."
They shared a brief nod and stepped together toward the water, knowing that beneath its glassy surface, the real challenge was only just beginning.