A dry wind carried brown sand against Eleanor's face. She used the dirt-stained edge of her cloak to wipe the sweat from her brow. The crimson sun hung low on the horizon, casting the silhouette of the colossal ruins before her in a more intimidating light.
Arcadia... The name echoed in her mind. A city rumored to be the end of ancient magic thousands of years ago. Many treasure hunters had come here, but none had returned with their lives. None, except her.
Eleanor traced the ancient inscription on a cracked stone pillar. No one had ever been able to read these runes, not even the most learned sages in the realm of Etherea, but she felt a certain energy hidden within them. It wasn't just a carving; it was an invitation.
"Just some old magic," she muttered to herself, not to anyone, but to remind herself that what she was about to face was no folly. She inserted the tip of a small knife into a stone crevice and carefully pried open the slab that sealed the entrance.
A scent of dampness and earth wafted from the darkness ahead. Eleanor lit the Spirit Lantern hanging by her hip. Its dim blue light illuminated strange objects hanging on the cavern walls. She saw large scratches on the stone floor, a trail that stretched into the darkness—marks that looked like the claws of a beast no one had ever seen.
Her instincts as a treasure hunter told her this was not just a ruin. It was a trap built to protect something of immense value.
The "Dimensional Shard" was the treasure she was after. The old wizard who sold her the map said it was a magical artifact that could open a gateway to other worlds. But all that mattered to Eleanor was exchanging it for the massive amount of gold that would let her live a comfortable life.
Suddenly, a faint whisper echoed in her mind. It wasn't the wind, but a voice that seemed to come from within. "Choose... traveler... choose your path."
Eleanor tightened her grip on her knife, looking left and right for the source of the sound, but found nothing but silence and her own shadow dancing with the lantern's light. She took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness. Whether the path ahead led to fortune or to death, she was ready to embrace it.
The First Fork
As she stepped into the dark stone corridor, Eleanor's Spirit Lantern revealed a fork in the path. To the right was a statue of an ancient warrior holding a broken shield. To the left was a symbol resembling a blinking green eye. Eleanor pulled out the old map but found no mention of this fork.
The whisper in her head returned. "The right... is the past... the left... is the truth..."
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. She didn't believe in spiritual powers or senseless prophecies, but she did believe in the treasure hunter's instinct that had saved her life countless times. She glanced to the left. The glowing green eye felt chilling, yet at the same time, she felt a strange, compelling pull.
Eleanor stepped slowly into the darkness of the cave. The musty, cold air bit at every inch of her skin. Her footsteps echoed against the stone walls, giving her the unsettling feeling that someone—or something—was following her. The light from her spirit lantern reflected on small puddles on the floor, revealing shadows of strange creatures—forms unlike any animal she had ever seen.
The scratches on the stone floor led her to a massive stone door, covered in ancient magical patterns. The whisper in her mind persisted:
"Choose… choose… or be lost."
Eleanor's heart raced, but curiosity and greed pushed her closer. She noticed that the magical patterns on the door were not only intricate but also pulsed with a faint blue light, as if the door itself were "breathing."
Carefully, she began to study the patterns and discovered a hidden mechanism—it seemed the door required her to solve a puzzle before it would open. She placed her hand on the first symbol and slowly traced the others. Her hand trembled slightly, but her focus remained unwavering.
Suddenly, a loud "clang!" rang out. The stone door shifted slightly, revealing a narrow gap through which light spilled. Eleanor took a deep breath and stepped through.
Inside was a vast hall, with a ceiling higher than a three-story building. A central stone pillar carved with elaborate designs stood tall. Drops of condensation fell from the ceiling onto the floor. Shadows danced in the lantern light, forming shapes that seemed alive.
At the center, on a raised stone platform, glowed a faint blue object—the Stone of Dimensions. Eleanor approached slowly, heart pounding. Her hands shook, but excitement and greed surged within her, unstoppable.
Suddenly, a sharp, cold voice spoke from the shadows:
"You should not have come here alone…"
Eleanor turned, and in the dim light saw a tall figure cloaked in black. The darkness around him seemed to swallow everything. She knew immediately—this was no natural threat. This was the real enemy, here for the Stone of Dimensions.
She realized then… her journey had only just begun, and the danger she faced was not only for her life but also intertwined with the fate of the entire world.
Eleanor gripped her knife tightly, her eyes fixed on the tall figure in black. The figure moved slowly, yet every step radiated supernatural power and intent.
"You should not have come here alone," the voice hissed, sending chills down her spine.
But Eleanor did not back down. She leapt to the side, dodging the first strike—an attack that seemed like a sharp shadow slicing straight toward her. She could feel the immense power hidden within the enemy's form; this was no ordinary human.
The battle began. The shadow lunged at her again. Eleanor slashed forward with her knife, but it barely grazed him. The cloaked figure moved with a speed beyond imagination. Every dodge, every strike demanded all of Eleanor's agility and treasure-hunter instincts.
Then, the whisper in her mind returned:
"Choose… choose wisely… or be lost."
Eleanor drew a deep breath, raising her knife, ready for the next attack. She realized now—this was not merely a fight for the Stone of Dimensions. This was a test of her courage, her wit, and her survival