The dawn came softly, like the breath of a child. Faint streaks of pink painted the broken skyline, but the beauty was tainted by the knowledge that the world was too far gone to be saved. Elian could feel it in his bones—something was coming, and it wouldn't stop until it had consumed everything.
The cold morning air bit into his skin as he stepped outside, his coat wrapped tightly around him. He didn't know what time it was; time had become irrelevant since they had entered the City of Echoes. Here, there was only the present—there was no past, and the future was a cruel joke. His enemies were closing in, and he needed answers.
"Ready?" Maren's voice broke through the silence, and Elian turned to see her approaching, a grim look etched across her face. She was holding something in her hands—a map of sorts, the edges worn and crinkled with age.
"Are you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She didn't reply immediately, her eyes scanning the landscape ahead. "I can't get rid of the feeling that we're being watched," she said softly. "Every corner, every shadow... They're there."
Elian followed her gaze. There was nothing out of the ordinary—just the remains of an old city, shattered buildings, and dark alleys where rats scurried and whispers never stopped. But Maren had a way of seeing things others didn't. She was sharp, too sharp for her own good sometimes.
"We'll have to move quickly then," he said, checking the map she had brought. "There's a place we need to go. A meeting. I don't know who, but I know they have answers."
He didn't know how he knew—it was just a gut feeling. The map had been given to him by a contact, someone from his past who had disappeared long ago. Someone who owed him, or at least, that's what Elian had thought when they'd crossed paths again. The message was simple: follow the path. Meet the man in the dark.
"Let's get it over with," Maren muttered, folding the map and tucking it away in her jacket. She was never one for talking much. It was easier for her that way.
The two of them moved through the wreckage of the city, the streets growing narrower as they ventured deeper into the ruins. The further they went, the more the silence seemed to stretch, becoming oppressive. The sound of their footsteps echoed unnervingly loud in the empty streets.
As they turned a corner, a figure appeared before them. He was tall, draped in a dark cloak that seemed to swallow the light around him. His face was hidden, but there was something about him—something that made Elian's pulse quicken.
"I knew you'd come," the figure said, his voice smooth like velvet. "You're just like your father."
Elian's heart skipped a beat. His father? He had been searching for answers about his father's past for so long, but the trail had always gone cold.
"I'm not my father," Elian said, his voice low and dangerous.
"No," the man agreed, his voice carrying a touch of amusement. "But you share his blood. And that makes you just as valuable. You've come to make a deal. I can feel it."
"What do you want?" Elian demanded, not bothering to hide the suspicion in his voice.
The man smiled, though Elian couldn't see his face. "Nothing yet. But I'm sure you'll come to understand. You need me, Elian Vale. You need what I have."
Elian narrowed his eyes, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. "What do you have?"
The man laughed, a sound that sent chills down Elian's spine. "Information, my dear boy. Information that will lead you straight to your enemies. To the ones who are hunting you. I can give you the answers you seek—but nothing comes without a price."
"I'm not in the mood for games," Elian snapped, his patience wearing thin.
The man's smile faded slightly, his tone growing colder. "No games, Elian. This is the truth. The world is changing. And those who don't adapt… well, they won't survive."
Elian took a step forward, his eyes locked on the man's shadowed form. "And if I refuse?"
"You won't," the man replied simply. "You'll come to me when you realize there's no other choice."
With a flick of his wrist, the man vanished into the shadows, leaving nothing behind but the faintest scent of lavender and a sense of dread hanging in the air.
Maren didn't speak for a moment, but Elian could feel her gaze on him. She had heard the conversation, and she knew as well as he did that they had just crossed a line.
"I don't trust him," she said finally, breaking the silence.
"I don't either," Elian muttered, his eyes still scanning the empty street. "But I don't have much of a choice."
---
The following days were filled with tension. The group moved cautiously through the city, always looking over their shoulders. But despite their best efforts, they couldn't shake the feeling that they were being hunted.
It wasn't until they reached the abandoned mansion on the edge of the city that Elian realized what the man had meant. The mansion was a ruin, its walls cracked and windows shattered. But inside, hidden beneath layers of dust and debris, they found what they were looking for.
A library. Hundreds of books, many of them ancient, lined the walls. But it wasn't the books that caught Elian's attention—it was the safe hidden beneath the floorboards.
The key was hidden in plain sight, lodged inside a cracked vase on a shelf. It took Elian a moment to realize what it was. He had seen it before—a key to his father's legacy. To the secrets he had been trying to unlock for years.
As he opened the safe, his hands trembling, he found a stack of letters—old, yellowed pages, each one written in a familiar hand.
They were his father's letters.
But there was more.
A map. A map to the Council.
Elian's heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the map. This was it. This was the final piece of the puzzle.
But there was a problem. The map didn't just lead to the Council. It led to something much darker—something far worse than Elian could have imagined.
The Devil's Bargain.
And Elian had just made it.
---