The firelight flickered against the rough cavern walls, casting long, twisting shadows. Malifax stood at the center of an ancient ritual circle, the second fragment of the Celestial Crown hovering inches above his palm. The power radiating from it pulsed like a heartbeat, filling the chamber with a deep vibration.
Yet it was not enough.
Two fragments have been recovered—one from the Black Ruins of Seraphane, and now the second from the Vault of Vael'Thorne. But without the remaining pieces, the crown was incomplete, its full power locked away.
Malifax clenched his fist, extinguishing the glow. Where are the others? He needed answers.
---
Slowly, he knelt and placed both fragments onto an obsidian altar. The symbols carved into the stone flared with dark light, reacting to the presence of such forbidden magic. Malifax reached into his cloak and pulled out a vial of shimmering, silver liquid—Dreamshade Essence, a substance drawn from the minds of dying seers.
He poured it onto the altar. Immediately, a low, whispering wind curled through the space, carrying voices that did not belong to the living. The shadows on the walls thickened, stretching unnaturally until one of them pulled free.
A wraith-like figure materialized before Malifax, its form rippling like smoke caught in a storm. Empty sockets where eyes should have been bore into him.
"Who dares disturb the Veil?" the specter's voice rasped. Malifax did not flinch. "I seek knowledge." The wraith chuckled—a dry, hollow sound. "Knowledge always comes at a price." Malifax smirked. "Then name it."
The air grew colder. The wraith circled him, its wispy tendrils brushing against his skin. "A memory… one you have long buried." Malifax hesitated.
"Do you accept?"
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he nodded. "Yes."
The wraith lunged.
---
Pain. Sharp, searing, unbearable.
Malifax staggered as his mind was wrenched backward, plunging him into a vision of the past. He was young again, standing before the Grand Library of Eldoria, the greatest magical archive in all of Arcandor. He had spent years earning his place within its sacred halls, determined to prove himself worthy of the council's approval.
He had always been different from the others—brilliant, ambitious, unwilling to accept limitations. The council's traditions frustrated him. Why cling to old magic when they could rewrite the rules? Why fear power when it could be mastered?
But they never listened. And neither did Galen.
"Marcellus, you're pushing too hard," Galen had said, watching as Malifax poured over forbidden tomes late into the night.
"I'm this close, Galen!" Malifax had snapped. "Don't you see? The council's magic is outdated. With this knowledge, we could change the world."
"At what cost?"
Malifax had scoffed. "You sound just like them."
Galen's face had fallen, hurt flashing in his eyes. But he had said nothing. Days later, the council had caught Malifax experimenting with the forbidden arts. The trial had been swift. The sentence was absolute—Banishment!
And when Malifax had turned to Galen—to his oldest friend—for defense, for support—he had said nothing. Nothing at all.
---
Malifax gasped as he was yanked back into the present. His head pounded, his breath ragged. The wraith loomed before him. "A debt repaid," it whispered.
The shadows swirled, and an image formed between them—a map, showing the location of the next fragment. Malifax's lips curled into a dark smile. "At last."
---
Deep within the enchanted forest, Eldrin awoke with a start. His heart hammered in his chest, his hands clenched around his staff. He had felt it—a disturbance in the balance of magic. Nyssa, the enchanted fox, lifted her head. "You sensed it too?"
Eldrin nodded grimly. "Malifax is growing stronger. If he gathers all the fragments..."
Nyssa's tail flicked. "Then we have no time to waste."
Unseen by either of them, the trees around them rustled. Eyes gleamed in the darkness. Malifax's spies were watching. And they would not let Eldrin reach the Celestial Crown first.
---
Malifax now knows the location of the third fragment, but the cost of his knowledge has reawakened old wounds. Meanwhile, Eldrin and the mice push forward, unaware that danger lurks closer than ever. The hunt is far from over.