The sound of shuffling feet and quiet rustling echoed in a stone corridor.
A figure garbed in brilliant red robes and a white-haired young man carefully inched forward, their steps quiet but urgent. The former routinely gazed over their shoulder, scanning for any guards or servants, while the latter tried his best not to make any unnecessary sounds.
Of course, these two were Alden and Drakon. At the behest of the Ember Heir, Alden was sneaking around the Citadel of the Ember Clan, holding his breath quietly as Drakon guided him through side entrances and unused passageways, towards whatever compensation it was he would receive for agreeing not to use Ignia to purify any cores.
The vast stone complex sprawled, corridors twisting, turning and occasionally merging together. It was like one big maze. Luckily, Drakon seemed to know the place like the back of his hand - and why wouldn't he?
After all, he must have spent a lot of time exploring the interior of this fortress when he was younger, chasing people around and whoever he might have played with. Alden was glad he did not have to navigate the Citadel alone.
When they had first set off, he'd tried to keep a mental map of his surroundings, but quickly gave up after realising just how large and spacious the residence of the Ember Clan truly was. Ironically, for a clan that specialised in flame magic and manipulating the fiery element, the inside was quite cold.
Although, that was probably just because they were using an unconventional route instead of the usual paths members of the Ember Clan took. From his brief glance at those well-trodden paths, Alden witnessed plush rugs and chandeliers fitted with luminous Mana Crystals. In these side passages, however, there was only cold, harsh stone and light fixtures in the form of rare torches occasionally scattered about.
The Keeper's Apprentice shivered as a strange breeze caressed the cold sweat on his skin. Alden unconsciously sped up, trying and failing to prevent the eerie silence and relative darkness of the empty corridor from gnawing at his heart.
'There's nothing to fear. There's nothing to fear.'
The white-haired young man repeated that phrase like his life depended on it.
Unfortunately, he didn't remain at ease for long - another cold wind suddenly blew through the passageway causing the torches mounted on the wall to flicker wildly, casting dancing shadows that seemed to stretch malevolently towards them.
Just then, Drakon and Alden locked eyes, the red-robed heir motioning for him to calm down.
Alden forced himself to relax, following the flame wielder deeper and deeper into the complex. Alden wasn't sure in which direction they were heading. The corridors would slope, occasionally inclining, and other times, declining.
Recently, it was more of the latter.
…Were they heading somewhere underground?
Alden's already serious expression became even more grave.
He quietly cursed, wondering what in the Asterons Drakon was playing at.
He had already resolved himself to trust the reformed heir, or at least attempt to.
So, Alden could do nothing but smother his grievances and keep trailing the young man in front of him. Eventually, after descending for what seemed like an aeon, Alden began to notice a couple of changes to his surroundings.
Firstly, the already rugged stone walls had turned even more rough. The darkness also deepened, the flickering light of the torches now spread further apart.
In the uncomfortable silence, every step felt like a deafening thunderclap to Alden. His hands turned clammy, and the sound of his own heartbeat thumped loudly in his ears, magnified by the unnerving silence, fear, and anticipation of what he might discover.
After some more time passed, the Keeper's Apprentice perceived another oddity.
…Was it just him, or did it feel like the temperature of his surroundings was slowly growing hotter?
It was minuscule at first, but after some more walking, Alden was almost certain the air around him was growing hotter. He wondered what the cause of this phenomenon was, and what exactly it meant for his remuneration.
Shaking his head, Alden did not allow his mind to roam. Soon, he came to a halt, tensing at the sight of Drakon's raised fist.
Straining, his senses picked up on a distant echo. It was faint at first, like a soft whisper, but soon, it increased in volume, until it resembled the beating of a vast war drum. As it approached, Alden also discerned a rhythmic rattle and the distinct sound of footfalls, fusing together to form an echo.
Both young men tensed, their frames taut with tension.
The heat and Alden's growing anxiety pressed down on him like a heavy weight. He felt like he could hardly breathe. Suddenly, Alden squinted, sensing a steady light abruptly pierce and illuminate the dim blackness of their surroundings.
A guard yelled, lifting their stone lantern to reveal the figure of Alden and a fiery-haired youth. Their heavy presence permeated the once dark corridor, making it slightly difficult for the Keeper's Apprentice and his companion to breathe.
If a fight broke out, it was unlikely that him or Drakon would be able to offer much resistance, if any at all. He looked back, judging it was unlikely they could outrun the Expert, as well.
The sentry's gaze narrowed, recognising Drakon.
"What are you doing here? You little rascal! I thought you told me that you were done causing trouble!"
Alden shrank back, hoping he could hide his presence from the Expert.
…Unfortunately, he couldn't.
The guard seemed to glare in his direction.
Drakon cleared his throat, his demeanour shifting from cautious to very amiable, almost bordering on warmth - a sight which Alden rarely, if ever saw.
…It seemed he recognised this guard.
"Emberlyn! Fancy seeing you here. We're on our way to visit the Honorary Elder."
A cold wind blew through the corridor in response.
Alden sensed something almost imperceptible brush against his figure, and he knew the guard was using her Mana Sense to assess him. He unconsciously straightened, radiating an air of tranquil confidence. He knew that for the deception work, neither he nor Drakon could afford to show any sign of hesitation or weakness.
They stood there for a long, tense, terrible moment, before a sigh cut through the silence.
After a little more probing, Emberlyn retracted her Mana Sense.
"I would be careful. He's currently… not in the greatest mood. Although, since when has he ever been?"
She shook her head, a wry grin almost threatening to break through her stern facade.
Drakon and Alden shared a brief glance, the former's expression turning a little pale, while a slightly bitter look flashed across the latter.
The two youths bid Emberlyn farewell.
Soon after, they came across an iron gate inscribed with so many runes that Alden found it incredible he could see the metal at all. He was not very knowledgeable when it came to runes and deciphering their symbols, but… to him, the way the runes were arranged felt more like they were created for the sole purpose of keeping someone in, rather than preventing someone from entering.
Drakon inserted his mana into the gate.
The arcane characters glowed for a moment, before the sound of metal grinding against stone resounded.
"We're almost there."
The Ember Heir spoke quietly as he stepped through.
Alden remained silent, feeling as if he had entered into a boiling furnace. Here, the heat had almost increased to an almost unbearable degree. Sweat slid down his body in large rivulets.
The young man inhaled a scorching breath, keeping up with his guide, who led him through a series of turns, before they stopped outside a large double door.
Once there, Drakon lingered, as if gathering his courage.
He fidgeted, the sight only making him more uneasy.
A second later, the Ember Heir released a turbid breath and pushed, a subtle tremor racking his body. Alden followed, and what he saw made him freeze in complete and utter shock.
Reflected in his good eye…
Was something that should not exist.