The heroes' party finally arrived at the northern town of Frost-haven after many long, gruelling days of travel. Frost-haven was a rugged border settlement built into the foothills of the frozen mountains. Its thick stone walls were weathered by harsh winds, and its streets were lined with sturdy wooden buildings that stood defiantly against the cold. Smoke rose from chimneys, and the air carried the sharp scent of pine, iron from the local forges, and the faint metallic tang of snow.
Liam dismounted his warhorse with a confident stride, his golden armour catching the pale northern light. The rest of the heroes and their large escort followed, drawing curious, wary glances from the townspeople, who paused in their daily tasks to stare at the heavily armed group. The Head Mage stepped forward, her silver-streaked hair whipping in the cold wind.
"We need information," she said firmly to the town elder who had come to greet them, a grizzled man with a thick fur cloak. "Anything about Lord Dox, unusual curse activity, or sightings of a man with dark power. The King's orders demand full cooperation."
Gathering reliable information proved extremely difficult. The locals were tight-lipped and fearful. Many had heard whispers of a powerful figure operating in the Shadowed Vale, but few dared speak his name aloud. The heroes spent hours questioning merchants, guards, tavern keepers, and hunters. Some claimed they had seen strange violet lights in the mountains at night. Others spoke of travellers who entered the Shadowed Vale and never returned. A few old hunters reluctantly mentioned a ruined fortress deep in the mountains where shadows seemed to move on their own.
The townspeople were reluctant at best. One blacksmith slammed his hammer down and refused to speak, muttering only "We want no trouble with those shadows." A tavern owner wiped his hands nervously on his apron and said, "I've heard the name Dox, but speaking it brings bad luck. The last man who talked openly about him disappeared two weeks ago." Even when the heroes offered gold or subtly threatened royal displeasure, the information came in frustrating fragments. It took persistent pressure, multiple rounds of questioning, and the Head Mage's subtle use of truth-sensing magic before they finally pieced together a clearer picture: Lord Dox had been seen moving toward an ancient ruined fortress deep in the mountains, and he was not alone. He had a prisoner with him, a man matching Lucius's description.
Liam's eyes burned with impatience. "We've wasted enough time. We move at first light. The fifth hero is close, and so is Dox; I can feel it. This time, he won't escape."
Meanwhile, in a hidden stronghold carved into the mountains, Lucius was thrown roughly into a cold stone prison cell. His body hit the floor with a dull thud. He was still incredibly weak. The wounds from the battle with the Heart and the ambush had not healed properly. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through him, and the tripled exhaustion made reality blur at the edges. He kept blanking out, slipping in and out of consciousness. One moment, he was staring at the damp ceiling; the next, he was lost in darkness again.
Zon stood outside the cell bars, watching him with cold satisfaction.
Lord Dox's deep, commanding voice echoed from the shadows behind him. "Is he awake?"
"Not fully, my lord," Zon replied, bowing slightly. "His body shut down after the fight. The curse inside him is powerful, but it's also tearing him apart. He keeps fading in and out of reality. Sometimes his eyes open, but he doesn't seem to see anything. Other times, he mutters words we can't understand, names, mostly. The boy's name comes up often."
Dox stepped into the dim light. His presence was overwhelming, tall, cloaked in black and violet, with eyes that seemed to hold centuries of hatred. "Good. Let him suffer a little longer. The pain will make him more… receptive. When he wakes, bring him to me. I want to see what kind of vessel the fifth hero truly is."
Zon nodded. "As you wish, my lord. But there is something else. The boy, the village's survivor, was still alive when we left. He was badly wounded, but he may still be breathing. Should we send men back to finish him?"
Dox's lips curled into a slow, cruel smile. "No. Leave him. A broken child is far more useful alive. If Lucius wakes, the thought of his precious 'little brother' suffering in pain will be the perfect lever to control him. The shadow within Lucius is strong but unstable. We will use the boy to break him completely."
Zon bowed deeper. "Understood. I will prepare the ritual chamber as you commanded. The fifth hero's curse will soon belong to you."
Dox turned away, his voice echoing as he disappeared back into the shadows. "Make sure he stays alive until I am ready. The kingdom has taken everything from me once. Now I will take everything from it. The royals thought they could bury me in the dark. They created this hatred. They created me. And now they will pay for it."
Later that same day, another group arrived at Frost-haven, but much later than the heroes' party.
Dave, Captain Harlan, the remaining crew, and the royal messengers rode into town under the cover of dusk. Dave was still very weak, leaning heavily against Harlan on the horse. His face was pale, and the bandage on his arm was fresh, but his eyes held a quiet fire.
They immediately began asking for information, moving from tavern to tavern and speaking with locals. Dave, despite his frailty, insisted on joining the questioning. His small voice trembled as he asked, "Have you seen a man with dark power being taken through here? Please… he's my brother."
The locals were hesitant at first, but the presence of the royal messengers and the obvious desperation in the boy's eyes eventually loosened some tongues. They learned that a group matching Zon's description had passed through days earlier, heading toward the Shadowed Vale and an ancient ruined fortress deep in the mountains.
Harlan placed a hand on Dave's shoulder. "We're getting closer, lad. Rest now. Tomorrow we move."
Dave nodded weakly, but his small fists were clenched. "We have to find him before it's too late."
The town of Frost-haven, unaware of the storm gathering around it, prepared for another cold night.
But the two forces were now in the same place, all hunting for the same man.
And none of them knew the others were so close.
The final clash was no longer coming.
It was already here.