# Chapter 3: The Ruins of Trust
The air in the Lightborn ruin was thick, heavy with the scent of moss and ancient stone. Elara pressed her back against the cold wall, her shadows coiling like restless serpents under her skin. The door trembled under another blow, the runes etched into its surface pulsing erratically. Outside, the Council's spies waited—silent, deliberate, their shadows slithering through the cracks like ink.
"How did they find us?" Elara whispered, her voice sharp. Her eyes flicked to Talia, who stood clutching her leather-bound book, her face pale and unreadable. The suspicion gnawed at Elara's gut, sharp as a blade. Talia had known about the prophecy, kept it secret too long. And now, the Council was here.
Kael crouched by the door, his light magic a faint glow in his hands, casting sharp angles across his scarred jaw. "They're not here for a chat," he muttered, his gray eyes scanning the cavern. "We need a way out. Now."
Talia's voice trembled. "There's no other exit. I checked the murals." She pointed to the faded images on the walls—scenes of a sunlit Nythera, warriors wielding light, and a glowing stone that matched the sketch in her book. The Dawnstone.
Elara's heart raced. "Then we fight." Her shadows surged, eager, but unsteady. She'd never fought with them before, not like this. Her mother's warnings echoed: *Hide it, Elara. Always hide it.* But hiding wouldn't save them now.
Kael's gaze met hers, intense, unyielding. "You sure about that, shadow mage? Your magic's loud enough to draw every beast in Nythera."
She bristled, stepping closer. "And your light's a beacon for every enforcer in a mile. Don't lecture me." Their faces were inches apart, his breath warm, his eyes searching hers. For a moment, the world narrowed to just them, the air crackling with something unspoken.
Talia cleared her throat, breaking the spell. "Can you two argue later? We're about to die."
---
The door shuddered, splinters flying as shadows clawed through. Kael raised his hands, light flaring bright, and Elara felt her shadows recoil, like oil meeting flame. "Stay behind me," he said, voice low but firm.
"No chance." Elara stepped beside him, her shadows spiraling up her arms. She didn't trust him—not fully—but she trusted the Council less. "We do this together."
A shadow burst through the door, a whip of darkness aimed at Kael. He deflected it with a pulse of light, the clash sending sparks scattering across the cavern. Elara thrust her hand forward, her shadows lashing out, wrapping the intruder's form and yanking it to the ground. It was a spy—cloaked, faceless, their eyes glowing with Council magic.
More poured in, three, then four, their shadows weaving a deadly net. Elara's heart pounded, her magic wild, unpredictable. She flung a shadow tendril, knocking one spy back, but another lunged, their blade grazing her arm. Pain flared, hot and sharp.
"Elara!" Talia screamed, rushing forward, her dagger flashing. She drove it into the spy's side, surprising Elara with her ferocity. The spy collapsed, but more shadows surged, relentless.
Kael's light blazed, cutting through the darkness. He fought like a storm—fluid, fierce, every move precise. A spy lunged at him, and he spun, light arcing from his hand, sending them crashing into the wall. But Elara saw the strain in his face, the flicker in his light. He couldn't keep this up forever.
"We need to move!" Elara shouted, her shadows forming a barrier to shield Talia. She grabbed Talia's arm, pulling her toward the back of the cavern, where the murals hinted at a hidden passage. Kael followed, his light dimming as he deflected another attack.
---
The murals glowed under Elara's touch, her shadows brushing the stone. A low rumble shook the cavern, and a section of the wall slid open, revealing a narrow tunnel. "Go!" she yelled, shoving Talia through.
Kael hesitated, his light holding back the spies. "You first," he said, his voice tight.
"Don't be a hero," Elara snapped, grabbing his cloak and yanking him into the tunnel. The wall sealed behind them, muffling the spies' shouts. Darkness enveloped them, broken only by the faint glow of Kael's hands and the luminescent moss lining the walls.
They ran, footsteps echoing, the tunnel twisting deeper into the earth. Elara's arm throbbed where the blade had grazed her, blood seeping through her sleeve. Talia's book was clutched tight, its pages fluttering as she stumbled. Kael led the way, his light a beacon in the gloom.
The tunnel opened into a chamber, its ceiling lost in shadow. At its center stood a cracked stone pedestal, etched with runes that pulsed faintly. A map lay carved into its surface, lines weaving across Nythera, converging on a point marked with a sunburst: the Ruins of Solace.
"The Dawnstone," Talia whispered, tracing the map. "It's real. This is where it's hidden."
Elara's breath caught. The Dawnstone—a myth, a fairy tale. Yet here was proof, etched in stone older than the Nightfall. She glanced at Kael, who studied the map with an intensity that made her uneasy. "You knew about this," she said, not a question.
He met her gaze, unflinching. "I've been searching for it my whole life." His voice was low, laced with something raw—grief, maybe, or guilt. "The Lightborn hid it before the Council destroyed us."
"Us?" Elara's eyes narrowed. "You're Lightborn?"
He didn't answer, turning back to the map. Frustration flared in her chest, but before she could press him, Talia spoke, her voice hesitant. "Elara, there's more in the book. The prophecy—it says the Dawnstone needs both shadow and light to awaken. But there's a cost."
"What cost?" Elara's voice was sharp, her shadows stirring. Talia's hesitation, her secrecy—it was too much. "What aren't you telling me?"
Talia's eyes dropped to the floor. "It… it might require a sacrifice. A life."
Elara's blood ran cold. "Whose?"
Before Talia could answer, a sharp crack echoed from the tunnel behind them. The spies had found the passage. Shadows slithered across the walls, faster now, closing in.
Kael grabbed Elara's hand, his touch electric. "We move. Now." He pulled her toward a second tunnel branching from the chamber, Talia scrambling behind. But as they ran, Elara's shadows flared, unbidden, lighting the chamber in a burst of dark energy.
The spies froze, their eyes locking on her. "The shadow mage!" one hissed, voice dripping with triumph. "She's the one Veyra wants!"
Elara's heart stopped. Veyra. The enforcer who'd hunted her in the square, who'd known her mother. The pieces clicked together, sharp and terrifying. This wasn't random. Veyra was after *her*, specifically.
Kael's grip tightened, pulling her into the tunnel. "Run!" he shouted, his light flaring to blind the spies. But as they fled, a shadow whip lashed out, wrapping around Talia's ankle. She screamed, falling, her book skidding across the stone.
"Talia!" Elara spun, her shadows surging to free her friend. But the spies were too many, their shadows too fast. Talia's eyes met hers, wide with fear—and something else. Guilt.
"Elara, go!" Talia cried, struggling against the shadows. "I'll hold them off!"
Kael yanked Elara forward, his voice urgent. "She's buying us time. Don't waste it."
Elara's chest tightened, torn between saving Talia and escaping. Her shadows screamed to fight, but the spies were closing in, and the tunnel was collapsing behind them. She made her choice, hating herself for it, and ran with Kael into the dark.
As the chamber's light faded, a single thought burned in her mind: Talia had known too much. And now, she was gone.