The streets of Moonshine glittered under the night sky, the celebrations still in full swing. Music floated through the air, sweet and bright, as lanterns bobbed like tiny stars above the crowds. But for Tara, Jasmine, and Neha, the city's joy felt like a fragile mask—thin, delicate, and about to crack.
Cloaked in plain travelers' garb, the three friends moved like shadows through the back alleys, their steps silent, their eyes sharp. Every corner, every passerby, could be hiding a clue—or a threat.
The Crimson Core was powerful beyond imagining. If it fell into the wrong hands...
Tara didn't want to think about the consequences.
"Where do we even start?" Neha whispered, her voice barely carried by the breeze.
Tara scanned the bustling market square ahead, where merchants sold colorful silks, gleaming jewelry, and vials of shimmering potion.
"If I were hiding something dangerous," Tara murmured, "I'd find someone who knows how to make things disappear."
Jasmine nodded, her eyes narrowing. "The black market."
Moonshine's underbelly was no secret.
For all its light, there were shadows here too—places where secrets were bought and sold, where loyalty had a price.
They slipped into a narrow side street, where the music faded into a low hum and the air smelled of smoke and metal. A heavy door loomed before them, carved with twisting symbols known only to those who dealt in forbidden things.
Tara reached out, her hand steady, and knocked three times.
There was a long silence.
Then a small slot opened at eye level, and two sharp eyes peered out.
"What do you want?" a gruff voice asked.
"Information," Tara said, her tone firm. "And we can pay."
A pause.
Then, the door creaked open.
Inside, the world changed.
The room was dimly lit by floating crystals, casting eerie shadows across crates of stolen relics and forbidden artifacts. Traders haggled in hushed tones, their faces hidden beneath hoods and masks.
It was dangerous.
It was exactly where they needed to be.
As they moved deeper into the market, a figure caught Tara's eye—an old merchant with skin like cracked leather and a silver chain around his neck.
He was whispering urgently to a cloaked customer, his hands fluttering nervously.
Tara tilted her head toward him. "That one. He knows something."
Without waiting, Tara approached.
The merchant saw her coming and stiffened, grabbing his goods and trying to blend into the crowd.
"No use running," Tara said coolly, stepping in front of him.
The merchant's eyes darted from Tara to Jasmine and Neha, sizing them up. He must have seen something dangerous in their faces, because he sighed heavily.
"What do you want, girl?" he rasped.
"A red crystal," Tara said. "Stolen recently. Where is it?"
The merchant hesitated, glancing around.
Then, slowly, he pulled out a small piece of parchment and slid it toward Tara.
A map.
No words, only a symbol: a broken tower near the city's outer edge.
And one chilling word, scrawled underneath in blood-red ink:
"Midnight."
Before Tara could question him further, the merchant shoved the parchment into her hand and melted into the shadows.
Jasmine leaned over her shoulder, frowning. "A meeting? At midnight?"
"Or a trap," Neha muttered.
Tara tucked the map away and looked at them both.
"Doesn't matter," she said. "We're going."
**
Hours later, when the celebration fires had burned low and the lanterns had drifted higher into the stars, Tara, Jasmine, and Neha stood at the edge of the abandoned district—where once-beautiful towers now crumbled under vines and moonlight.
The broken tower on the map loomed ahead, its silhouette jagged against the sky.
As they approached, the air grew colder.
Every step felt heavier, as if unseen eyes were watching from the ruins.
Somewhere beyond the rubble, a figure moved—just a flash of a dark cloak, vanishing behind shattered stone.Tara tightened her grip on her staff.
"We're not alone," she whispered.
Suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled.
A circle of symbols blazed to life around the tower's base—a trap laid long ago, awakening with their presence.
From the shadows, a voice called out, low and mocking:
"You're too late, Keeper."
Tara spun toward the sound, heart hammering.
Out of the darkness stepped a figure, their face hidden beneath a silver mask, the faint glow of the Crimson Core pulsing at their side.
And in that instant, Tara knew—
this was no ordinary thief.
This was something far more dangerous.
Something that had been waiting for them all along.