Shadow and Spell A Tale of Redemption Part 4
Beneath the Ruins
The moon hung high overhead, its pale glow barely piercing the dense canopy of the Moonveil Forest. Vaelin moved swiftly, his steps silent despite the undergrowth beneath his boots. Elira trailed close behind, her staff pulsing with a faint magical light to guide their way. Neither of them had spoken much since fleeing the cave.
The words of the Shade still lingered in the back of Vaelin’s mind. The Heart seeks you… Your fate is already written. He had never believed in fate. In his experience, the world was carved by those willing to wield the knife, not some unseen force. But something about the Shade’s voice had unsettled him, as if the words themselves carried weight.
Elira suddenly stopped. “We’re close.”
Vaelin raised an eyebrow. “How can you tell?”
She motioned ahead. Through the tangled roots and overgrown foliage, he could see the faint outline of crumbling stone—an archway, partially buried beneath centuries of decay.
“The ruins of Veldrath,” Elira whispered, eyes alight with fascination and trepidation. “If my mother’s research was right, the Heart of Tenebris should be buried beneath them.”
Vaelin studied the ruins. It looked abandoned, forgotten, but he knew better than to trust appearances. “Stay close.”
They approached cautiously, stepping over broken masonry and creeping vines. Vaelin’s eyes swept their surroundings for any sign of movement. The Silent Fang wouldn’t give up the hunt, and there was no telling what else lurked in a place like this.
Elira knelt by an old altar, brushing away dirt and moss to reveal the same ancient carvings they had seen in the cave. She traced them with her fingertips. “There should be a way down… a hidden entrance.”
Vaelin began testing the ground with his foot, searching for any hollow spaces. After a few moments, his boot scuffed against something different—a stone slab, slightly raised from the others.
“Here." He crouched, brushing away debris. A faint groove outlined a hidden trapdoor.
Elira joined him, her eyes narrowing in concentration. She whispered a spell, and the markings on the stone glowed faintly. With a low rumble, the trapdoor slid open, revealing a dark staircase spiraling into the depths below.
Vaelin peered down. “Lovely. Another ominous underground passage.”
Elira smirked. “Oh, come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I kill people for a living. I prefer my feet on solid ground.”
She chuckled, stepping past him. “Well, for someone who prefers solid ground, you’re going first.”
Vaelin sighed but didn’t argue. He drew a dagger and descended the steps, the air growing colder with every step. Elira followed, her magic illuminating the narrow passage. The walls were covered in more of the ancient symbols, and the deeper they went, the more intact they became—as if the world above had forgotten this place, but time had not touched it.
At the bottom of the stairs, the tunnel opened into a vast underground chamber. Pillars lined the space, their surfaces adorned with glowing runes. At the far end, atop a raised dais, a pedestal stood. Resting upon it was a crystalline orb, black as night yet pulsing with a deep, inner light.
Elira inhaled sharply. “The Heart of Tenebris.”
Vaelin’s grip tightened on his dagger. “I don’t like how easy this looks.”
Elira nodded. “There’s magic here. Old magic.” She stepped cautiously forward, eyes scanning the chamber. “We need to be careful—”
A deep, resonant sound echoed through the chamber, like the toll of a distant bell. The runes on the pillars flared to life, and the air vibrated with unseen energy. The shadows in the corners of the room moved.
Vaelin spun, raising his blade as figures emerged from the darkness. They were humanoid but wrong—twisted, shrouded in tattered remnants of ancient armor, their eyes burning with an eerie blue light.
Elira cursed. “Guardians.”
Vaelin’s stance shifted. “I assume they’re not friendly?”
“They exist to protect the Heart from unworthy hands.”
Vaelin scoffed. “And let me guess—we’re the unworthy ones?”
The closest guardian lunged. Vaelin ducked, slashing his dagger across its chest. The blade barely left a mark before the creature retaliated with unnatural speed, forcing him to roll aside.
Elira raised her staff. “We need to disable the enchantment binding them!”
Vaelin dodged another strike. “You want to take your time figuring that out, or should I just keep dancing with the undead?”
Elira muttered an incantation, her staff glowing bright. Energy surged from its tip, striking one of the guardians. The creature reeled, its body flickering like a dying flame. “Their link is tied to the pillars! If we disrupt the runes—”
Vaelin was already moving. He darted toward the nearest pillar, dodging a guardian’s grasp. With a swift motion, he embedded his dagger into the glowing rune. A pulse of energy erupted outward, sending the guardian stumbling back.
Elira seized the moment, channeling raw magic into the air. The remaining pillars flickered and dimmed under her assault. The guardians convulsed, their forms unraveling like smoke caught in the wind.
Then, silence.
Vaelin exhaled, stepping over the dissipating remnants. “I hate magic.”
Elira ignored him, her gaze locked on the Heart of Tenebris. Slowly, she approached the pedestal. The orb pulsed in response, as if recognizing her presence.
Vaelin tensed. “Elira, wait—”
Too late. The moment her fingers brushed the surface of the Heart, the chamber shuddered. The darkness within the orb swirled violently. A deep, whispering voice filled the air, ancient and powerful.
“At last… you have come.”
Elira’s eyes widened. “That’s not good.”
Vaelin was already pulling her back. “Time to go.”
But as they turned toward the exit, the shadows themselves seemed to rise around them.
And this time, there was no escape.
___________________________________________________
All Parts of This Series
About the Creator
Richard Bailey
I am currently working on expanding my writing topics and exploring different areas and topics of writing. I have a personal history with a very severe form of treatment-resistant major depressive disorder.
Keep reading
More stories from Richard Bailey and writers in Chapters and other communities.
Shadow and Spell A Tale of Redemption Part 3
The cave was silent, save for the distant drip of water echoing off the jagged stone walls. The air smelled of damp earth and something older—ancient magic, lingering like the last whispers of a long-forgotten spell.
By Richard Bailey10 months ago in Chapters
Bruce Lee and The God of War: Kuan Ti
It starts with love.. The Power to the God Of War and Wealth Walk into a Chinese restaurant (even in Oklahoma, USA), a Chinese police station, a kung fu martial arts studio or even a Chinese temple and you often see a red faced warrior holding a heavy quan-do (spear like weapon).
By WILD WAYNE : The Dragon King7 days ago in Chapters
World Hobby Living Is There Such A Thing
When you look at your life and the world around you do you look at your hobbies too? Now I know some of you will read this question and think well why wouldn’t we? But some people might not even think of this. Do we look at the world and think of it as being a hobby of sorts and yes I just came up with that. When we live life through the hobbies that we do we are doing so in the world and getting so much more out of it no matter where we are in the world. Everyone lives in different areas of the world and everyone has hobbies so yes hobbies are all over the world. This means, world hobby living does exist, we just all have our own versions of it. LIfe has hobbies all around it because that is what life and living with our hobbies is.
By Louise Barraco5 days ago in Chapters
Center Stage with Gina C.
*** I'm keen to republish the interviews I did for my series with Vocal creators. It's been a few years and I thought it might be nice to revisit these wonderful conversations. I'll be releasing them one at a time for a few weeks/months.
By Heather Hubler7 days ago in Interview
Comments