The wind howled through the jagged peaks of the Shadowspire Mountains, carrying with it the echoes of forgotten voices. The smell of damp earth and something darker and ancient—Malifax's magic filled the air. Malifax stood at the edge of a crumbling ledge, peering into the abyss below. His golden eyes gleamed with hunger as he clutched the brittle parchment in his hand.
"The second fragment lies beneath," he muttered.
Far below, buried within the rubbles of a ruined city, lay a shard of the Celestial Crown. It had been hidden away centuries ago, sealed within the vaults of the vanished kingdom of Vael'Thorne, a place where even the bravest of mages dared not tread.
Malifax, however, was not afraid. He took a step forward, summoning a wisp of dark energy beneath his feet. The swirling magic carried him downward like a shadow drifting through the night. As he descended, the memory of his past clawed at the edges of his mind—one he had tried to bury, but one that refused to be forgotten.
---
Betrayal at the Council
"Marcellus, your request has been denied."
The voice of High Mage Aldorin still rang in his ears, even after all these years. He had stood before the council that day, heart pounding, his hands trembling with the weight of his ambition. He had proposed a new form of magic—one that could reshape the very fabrication of life and death. And they had not even let him finish.
"This magic is dangerous," Aldorin had said, his gaze severe. "You seek to control forces beyond your understanding. We cannot allow it."
And then Galen—his so-called friend—had spoken.
"Marcellus, power isn't everything," Galen had said gently. "Sometimes, what we desire most is not what we need."
Those words had sealed his fate. They had cast him out, stripped him of his titles, and condemned him to wander as a mere shadow of what he once was. But that day had been the beginning. That day had created Malifax; the evil wizard.
---
His boots touched the cracked stone of the ruined city, shattering the memory. The air down here was thick with dust and the whispers of the dead. Towering statues loomed over him, their faces eroded by time, their eyes hollow and watching.
Somewhere beneath these ruins, the second fragment of the Celestial Crown awaited him.
Malifax raised his hand, conjuring a pulse of violet light that rippled through the air. The magic seeped into the cracks of the stone, searching, feeling—until finally, the ground trembled beneath him.
A massive iron door, hidden beneath centuries of rubble, groaned as it slowly began to open. A gust of cold air rushed out, carrying with it a sound that did not belong to the living.
A single word. "Leave."
Malifax chuckled darkly. "Make me."
He stepped forward, entering the vault. The darkness swallowed him whole. Inside, the vault stretched like a tomb, lined with golden artifacts and broken relics from a forgotten age. But Malifax ignored the treasures. His eyes were locked on the pedestal at the far end of the chamber. There, encased in crystal, lay the second fragment. He took a step forward—then stopped.
The shadows around him shifted. A deep, guttural growl filled the chamber as something moved. A pair of glowing eyes emerged from the darkness, followed by the sound of claws scraping against stone. A guardian.
The creature slithered forward, its massive serpentine body covered in dark, shifting mist. Its voice was like a blade against ice. "You are unworthy," it said.
Malifax smirked. "That's what they always say."
The beast lunged. Malifax twisted his wrist, summoning a swirling mass of black fire. The flames erupted, colliding with the beast's smoky form. It shrieked, recoiling, but it did not fall.
"Impressive," Malifax mused, his fingers crackling with energy. "But not enough." He raised his other hand, drawing upon the forbidden magic he had spent years perfecting. The air pulsed with a dark hum as tendrils of shadow lashed out, wrapping around the creature's limbs.
The guardian let out a furious roar, but Malifax only tightened his grip. "You were made to guard," he whispered, his voice laced with venom. "But everything has a master." The shadows surged, twisting into the creature's form. It thrashed, its cries turning to silence as its glowing eyes flickered—then dimmed.
And then, there was only stillness.
The beast knelt before him.
Malifax stepped forward, his smirk widening. "Much better." With a flick of his hand, the crystal casing around the fragment shattered. He reached forward, his fingers brushing against the ancient artifact.
The moment he touched it, a surge of power raced through his veins. His vision blurred as images of the past and future swept over him. He saw the Celestial Crown in its full form, glowing with unrestrained power. He saw the world kneeling before him.
And then—he saw Galen. Still alive. Still fighting.
His smile vanished. "Not for long," Malifax muttered.
---
Far from the Shadowspire Mountains, Eldrin and Nyssa pressed forward on their own journey. The wizard felt a shiver crawl up his spine, as though something in the world had shifted.
Nyssa glanced at him. "What is it?" Eldrin hesitated before answering. "Malifax is getting stronger." Nyssa's tail flicked anxiously. "Then we need to move faster."
Somewhere in the distance, the trees rustled with an unseen presence. Eldrin tightened his grip on his staff, knowing deep down that time was running out.
---
Malifax now possesses the second fragment of the Celestial Crown, his power growing stronger by the moment. With each piece he gathers, the forces of darkness tighten their grip on Arcandor. Meanwhile, Eldrin and the mice race against time, but unknown dangers lurk in the shadows.
The battle has only just begun.
What lies ahead for them?