The forest broke unexpectedly, giving way to a jagged clearing bathed in pale, cold sunlight. Before them loomed a massive stone structure, half-buried in the earth and overgrown with vines and moss. Its weathered walls rose at odd angles, as though the ruins had been pulled and twisted by some unseen force. A faint hum, low and menacing, filled the air—the same sound the artifact made, but louder here, more insistent.

  “Is this it?” Lira asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “The place from the sage’s warning?”

  “No,” Zarya said, gripping her staff tightly. Her amber eyes scanned the structure, narrowing. “This is older. Far older.”

  Nyssa crouched low, her bow drawn and ready. “Something’s been here recently,” she said, motioning to the ground. Tracks crisscrossed the clearing, heavy boots and clawed paws marking the earth. “Raiders, maybe... and something else.”

  “Something else?” Nala asked, swallowing hard. She hovered near Rhea, her short sword already drawn.

  “Something bigger,” Nyssa said. Her voice was steady, but her fingers tightened on her bowstring.

  Rhea motioned for the group to spread out. “Keep your eyes open,” she said. “And stay close. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”

  The Descent

  The sisters approached the ruins cautiously, their footsteps muffled by the soft earth and creeping moss. The entrance was a wide archway, its edges worn smooth by time. Carvings lined the stone, faintly visible beneath layers of grime—images of twisted, serpentine figures and symbols that pulsed faintly as if alive.

  “This place reeks of old magic,” Zarya murmured, running her fingers along the carvings. “The kind that warps and consumes.”

  “Sounds fun,” Eira said, her spear resting against her shoulder. “Let’s get this over with.”

  They stepped inside, their weapons drawn. The air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of earth and decay. Shafts of dim light filtered through cracks in the ceiling, illuminating the interior in patches. The walls bore more carvings, these more vivid and grotesque, depicting battles between men and monstrous figures with elongated limbs and featureless faces.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Charming,” Lira muttered, her voice echoing faintly in the cavernous space.

  Zarya stopped abruptly, her staff glowing brighter. “The artifact is reacting,” she said, holding it up. The humming grew louder, vibrating through the air. “It’s connected to this place.”

  “Connected how?” Vira asked, her shield raised as she scanned the shadows.

  Before Zarya could answer, a low growl rumbled through the ruins. The sisters froze, their eyes darting toward the source of the sound. From the darkness ahead, two glowing eyes appeared, followed by another, and another. Shapes began to emerge—hulking, twisted creatures with patchwork fur and elongated limbs, their bodies rippling with unnatural energy.

  “Nyssa,” Rhea said, her voice calm but firm.

  “On it.” Nyssa loosed an arrow, the twang of her bowstring cutting through the tension. The arrow struck one of the creatures, burying itself in its shoulder. The beast barely flinched before charging forward with a guttural roar.

  “Here they come!” Rhea shouted.

  A Fractured Fight

  The armored warriors fought with brutal efficiency, their weapons humming with corrupted energy. Rhea met the leader head-on, their weapons colliding in a spray of sparks. He was strong—stronger than any human had a right to be—but Rhea’s sheer ferocity matched him blow for blow.

  Nyssa and Eira took to the flanks, picking off the others with arrows and quick spear thrusts. Lira darted between them, her daggers flashing as she sought weak points in their armor. Vira held the center, her shield absorbing strike after strike, her warhammer smashing into her foes with bone-crushing force.

  Zarya stood near the rear, her staff glowing as she chanted. Flames erupted around her, incinerating one of the attackers. But the artifact’s power was taking its toll. Her movements were slower, her magic less precise.

  Nala stayed close to Zarya, her sword trembling in her hands. When one of the beasts broke through the line, she stepped forward, deflecting its blade with a panicked swing. She barely had time to react as it lunged again, but a precise counterstrike sent it reeling.

  The Tablet

  When the last of the creatures fell, silence returned to the ruins. The sisters stood among the wreckage, their breaths heavy and their weapons slick with ichor.

  “What were those things?” Lira asked, wiping her daggers on the grass.

  “Guardians,” Zarya said, her voice trembling slightly. “Bound to this place by ancient magic. They’re not alive—not really.”

  “Then why were they here?” Rhea asked, scanning the shadows for any remaining threats.

  “To protect something,” Zarya said, pointing to the far end of the chamber. There, partially buried in rubble, stood a pedestal. On it rested a broken tablet, its surface covered in the same serpentine carvings as the walls.

  Rhea approached cautiously, her axe at the ready. As she drew closer, the tablet began to glow faintly, the symbols shifting and writhing as though alive. She reached out, her fingers brushing the surface.

  The moment she touched it, a vision overwhelmed her. Images flashed through her mind—cities crumbling, rivers running red with blood, a towering figure cloaked in shadow holding the artifact high as the world bent to its will. A voice, cold and distant, whispered a single word.

  “Spire.”

  Rhea stumbled back, clutching her head. Zarya was at her side instantly, steadying her.

  “What did you see?” Zarya asked.

  “Destruction,” Rhea said, her voice hoarse. “And the Spire. This... this was only the beginning.”

  She turned to her daughters, her expression grim. “We need to keep moving. Whatever this artifact is, it’s tied to something far worse than we imagined.”

  The sisters nodded, their resolve steeling. They left the ruins behind, the tablet’s warning etched into their minds as they pressed deeper into the unknown.