The iron gate loomed before them, a colossal barrier forged from black stone and etched with symbols that pulsed with a faint, unsettling light. It felt like the very breath of the citadel, a place where the darkness had solidified.
"Grand entrance for a villain, wouldn't you say?" Anya muttered, her voice laced with frustration as she surveyed the imposing structure.
"These symbols..." Corvus murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "They resemble ancient wards used to block out light magic."
Elara's brow furrowed. "So, light magic won't work? But what about—"
Her sentence trailed off as her eyes darted around the base of the gate. A spark of hope flickered in them. "See those grooves on either side? They look like they might fit something..."