The candlelight in the Assembly chamber flickered low, casting elongated shadows on the cold stone walls. The fire pit in the center had dimmed to embers, bathing the room in a sleepy orange glow. Cassius stood silently, his eyes drifting over the map laid out on the table—his mind already halfway to the forgotten city.
Stryx turned toward a tall figure standing at the edge of the chamber, mostly cloaked in shadow.
Stryx: "Before you leave, there's someone you must meet. Kaelen. He's been one of our most reliable eyes in the dark corners of Veldrith."
Kaelen stepped forward, his black cloak fluttering faintly behind him. He wore no insignia, but the confidence in his stance marked him as someone who'd seen far more than he let on. His gaze swept across the group and rested briefly on Cassius.
Kaelen: "I've walked the alleys of Vareth-Kai when no light dared reach. I know what remains… and what hides."
Cassius eyed him warily, but something about the man's stillness reminded him of Elric—someone shaped by survival, not speeches.
Elric: "We'll need more than eyes. We need truth."
Kaelen (smirking): "Then let's hope you're ready for what you'll find."
Stryx walked over, his steps slow, almost ceremonial.
Stryx: "Vareth-Kai was once called the City of Oaths, a place where treaties were written in stone and honored in blood. Now, it is a ghost echoing broken promises. The people remain, but the soul of the city…"
He looked toward the flames.
"…that was stolen."
Cassius looked up.
Cassius: "By who?"
Stryx (quietly): "By the ones who claimed to rebuild. You'll understand in time. The merchant who rules Veldrith sits on a throne carved from ruin."
---
By morning, they departed. The old gates of the Assembly creaked open, and pale golden light spilled through the cracks, touching the armor and cloaks of the small party. Horses waited near the edge of the hill, their breath steaming in the crisp dawn.
Kaelen led, followed by Elric, Varcen, Korvek, Soren, and finally Cassius—his relic now secured in his belt, covered, though it pulsed faintly as if sensing something ahead.
The lands beyond the mountain pass were harsh—winding ridges, skeletal trees, and the occasional forgotten village swallowed by vines. But as they descended into the lowlands, nature reclaimed the land. The golden plains stretched beneath distant clouds, scattered with the ruins of watchtowers and pillars once used for war.
---
They made camp near an ancient stone arch by a dried riverbed. Moss covered its broken runes, and the group circled their small fire beneath its shadow. Kaelen remained quiet for most of the evening, sharpening a curved dagger with methodical patience.
Cassius broke the silence.
Cassius: "Tell me more about the city. Vareth-Kai. What's left of it?"
Kaelen glanced at him over the fire.
Kaelen: "Walls, mostly. And stories. People cling to both."
Varcen: "Before the war, Vareth-Kai was the heart of treaties. Ashenhold's old alliance with Veldrith was forged there."
Elric (quietly): "But oaths only matter to those who keep them."
Cassius looked into the flames.
Cassius: "What broke first—the city or the promises?"
No one answered.
---
On the second day, the sky darkened early with gathering storm clouds. Rain trickled at first, then fell steadily as they traversed a forest of burnt husks—trees blackened from war, with only the occasional green sprout clawing its way back.
They passed a rusted machine husk lodged into a hillside, half-consumed by time. Its limbs were twisted, and the moss had grown over its face. Cassius paused, placing a hand on it.
Cassius (to himself): "How many like this are still buried?"
Korvek stepped beside him.
Korvek: "Enough to remind us we were never ready."
---
By sunset, the ruins of Vareth-Kai appeared on the horizon—rising like skeletal fingers from the earth. The once-proud city gates had long since fallen, replaced with makeshift barricades and stitched cloth flags. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the sound of hammers echoed from deeper within.
The city was alive… but barely.
Children darted through alleys. Traders haggled in hushed voices, watching their surroundings more than their goods. Soldiers in foreign armor—not of Vareth-Kai—patrolled the streets, stern-faced and silent. The sigil they wore did not belong to this city.
Kaelen's voice cut through the stillness.
Kaelen: "You asked what's left of the city?"
He swept his arm out.
Kaelen: "What you see—this is not Vareth-Kai. This is what's been done to it."
*********************