Kael and Lyra moved swiftly through the dimly lit streets of Velmira, their minds racing. Sylas was alive.
That single fact shattered the illusion of peace they had briefly allowed themselves to believe in. The world had been reborn, free from the chains of gods and fate, yet somehow, Sylas had endured.
Kael clenched his fists. Of course he had.
"East of here," Lyra murmured as they slipped into a quieter alleyway. "The ruins they spoke of what could he be looking for?"
Kael exhaled sharply. "Power. Even in this world, he must believe something remains. Some remnant of what was lost."
"But there shouldn't be," she countered. "We erased the Well. There's nothing left."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Unless…"
Lyra narrowed her eyes. "Unless what?"
Kael looked up at the night sky, where twin moons shone in eerie silence. "Unless this world isn't as empty as we thought."
The next morning, they rode out of Velmira on horseback, traveling east toward the ruins the men in the tavern had spoken of. The landscape shifted as they left the city lush plains fading into craggy hills, the earth growing drier, the wind carrying the scent of old stone and forgotten history.
It wasn't long before they saw it.
A vast expanse of ruined pillars and broken walls, half-buried in the dust of time. The remains of a civilization long lost.
As they approached, an unnatural stillness settled over the land.
Kael dismounted, his instincts screaming. "Something's wrong."
Lyra followed, her hand on her dagger. "He's already been here."
Footprints littered the ground, but they weren't alone. Strange marks were carved into the stone symbols that shouldn't exist in this world. Symbols Kael recognized.
His blood ran cold.
"These are remnants of the old gods," he murmured.
Lyra's breath hitched. "That's impossible."
Kael looked toward the center of the ruins, where a massive stone doorway stood, half-buried in the earth. And it was open.
"Sylas didn't just come here looking for power," Kael said, his voice grim.
"He found it."