The Hidden Ruin  

The commotion in my tent had brought Renaud and Galen rushing in, weapons drawn and eyes scanning for danger. The lingering tension in the air was palpable as I quickly recounted the events—the shadowy attacker, the silent struggle, and how narrowly I had avoided death.

Renaud's face turned pale with guilt. He fell to one knee before me, bowing his head. "Your Highness, I failed in my duty," he said, his voice trembling with remorse.

I rested a hand on his shoulder, meeting his troubled gaze. "There's no need for apologies, Renaud. The attacker was no ordinary foe. He was a master of stealth, wielding skills akin to Arnold's Shadowcraft. Even the best of us would have been hard-pressed to detect him."

"Arnold?" Renaud asked, confusion mingled with his guilt.

"He is my steward," I explained. "I sent him on a mission to find my sister's whereabouts."

Galen's eyes darkened, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. "Do you know who it was?"

I shook my head, my expression grim. "No. But this much is clear—someone knows we're here, and they won't stop until they've ensured we don't leave alive."

Though the night's events left us shaken, we eventually settled back down, though sleep came fitfully for most of us. The next morning, we broke camp and resumed our journey, following the map's guidance into the desolation of the Duskveil Wasteland. The harsh landscape stretched before us, a stark reminder of the dangers that lay ahead. We moved cautiously, every step weighed with vigilance. 

The landscape was a barren expanse of cracked earth and scattered ruins, with skeletal trees clawing at the sky like grasping hands. A faint haze hung in the air, a mixture of dust and some ancient miasma that seemed to cling to the region. Only the occasional monster encounters broke the monotony, but we dispatched them quickly, our focus unwavering. 

By afternoon, the map led us to a concealed ruin, its entrance hidden beneath a tangle of gnarled roots and moss-covered stones. The sight was humbling—a glimpse of history swallowed by time and neglect. 

I approached the entrance, brushing away dirt and foliage to reveal Lunari script etched into the stone. The ancient text carried the weight of forgotten wisdom, its characters faint but legible. 

[𐌋𐌉𐌓𐌉𐌍 𐌃𐌄 𐌔𐌉𐌓𐌉, 𐌔𐌏𐌋 𐌖𐌉𐌓𐌉𐌄. 𐌀𐌅𐌉𐌍 𐌋𐌀𐌓𐌖, 𐌅𐌉𐌍 𐌋𐌉𐌓𐌉𐌔. 𐌋𐌉𐌍𐌐 𐌏𐌋𐌉𐌓, 𐌔𐌏𐌋 𐌏𐌋𐌉𐌓. 𐌃𐌄 𐌔𐌍𐌄𐌓. 𐌋𐌉𐌓𐌉𐌍 𐌃𐌄 𐌄𐌓𐌄𐌍, 𐌔𐌏𐌋 𐌖𐌉𐌓𐌉𐌄. 𐌄𐌓𐌍 𐌃𐌄 𐌀𐌅𐌏𐌋𐌀𐌓𐌉𐌀 𐌊𐌉𐌍. 𐌀𐌅𐌉𐌍 𐌋𐌉𐌍𐌀𐌓, 𐌅𐌉𐌍 𐌋𐌉𐌍𐐌𐌄. 𐌔𐌏𐌋 𐌍𐌄𐌓𐌖 𐌃𐌄 𐌔𐌍𐌄𐌓..]

I read it aloud, translating as best I could.

"Lirin of the stars, open the path. Seek the truth, and find your heart. Light within, shine without. The treasure awaits. By bloodline pure, the path shall clear, Only heirs of Avaloria may enter here. Speak the words both true and wise, To unlock the gate where treasure lies." 

Nothing happened at first, but when I placed my hand against the stone and channeled aether into the etchings, the script began to glow. With a low rumble, the stone shifted, and a hidden doorway shimmered into existence. 

We stepped into a long, narrow hallway, the walls lined with faintly glowing runes that pulsed softly as we passed. The air grew colder with every step, the atmosphere oppressive and ancient, as though the weight of countless years pressed against us. 

At the end of the hall stood a massive, ornate door, its surface covered in intricate carvings of dragons and celestial symbols. A faint hum emanated from the door, as if it were alive with dormant energy. 

"This must be it," I said, placing my hand on the door. The carvings glowed faintly under my touch, and with a soft push, the door creaked open, revealing a vast chamber beyond. 

The sight that greeted us was breathtaking—and terrifying. 

At the center of the chamber lay a dragon of immense size, its form both majestic and menacing. Its scales were as black as obsidian, shimmering faintly with an iridescent sheen that reflected the light in hues of deep violet and emerald. Each scale seemed to be etched with ancient runes that flickered with faint, golden light, as though the creature's very being was bound to the magic of the ruin. 

The dragon's wings were folded against its sides, the membranes translucent and webbed with veins that pulsed faintly, like rivers of molten silver coursing beneath its skin. Its tail, long and whip-like, coiled around its massive body, ending in a sharp, spiked tip that looked capable of cleaving stone. 

Its head was both regal and fearsome, with long, curling horns that swept back like a crown of dark ivory. A series of smaller spikes lined its jaw, giving it an air of primal authority. Its eyes, closed in slumber, were framed by ridges that glowed faintly, as if the creature's dreams themselves were a source of power. 

As we stepped inside, the massive door behind us slammed shut with a deafening boom, causing us to spin around in alarm. 

"What the—?" Galen muttered, rushing back to the door and pushing against it. "It's sealed! We're trapped!" 

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. "It's part of the trial," I said, though my voice was tinged with unease. "The door won't open again until we face whatever challenge lies ahead." 

"Let me guess," Renaud said, his tone grim as he turned back to the dragon. "The challenge is waking up." 

As if in response, the dragon stirred. Its massive form shifted, and its eyes snapped open. 

The dragon's gaze was piercing, its vertical pupils glowing with an ancient, golden light that seemed to cut straight through us. A low rumble echoed from its chest, the sound reverberating through the chamber like a thunderstorm trapped beneath the earth. 

Galen broke the silence with a nervous chuckle. "Well... that's not something you see every day." 

Renaud's grip on his Stormrider sword tightened. "Are we seriously going to fight that thing?" 

"Not if we can help it," I replied, though my mind raced with strategies. 

Andre and Agnes stood behind me, their faces pale but determined. Andre nodded firmly. "Whatever happens, we're with you, Your Highness." 

I took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of resolve I could muster. "Alright, everyone. Stay sharp. This won't be like any fight we've faced before." 

The dragon rose to its full height, its massive frame unfurling with a grace that defied its size. Its wings spread wide, sending a powerful gust of wind through the chamber that extinguished the faint torches lining the walls. 

The air crackled with raw energy as the dragon's aura surged, pressing down on us like an invisible weight. With a single step forward, its claws sank into the stone floor, leaving deep, jagged gouges in its wake. 

Its lips curled back, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth that gleamed like polished ivory. The chamber grew deathly silent, save for the rhythmic thrum of the dragon's breath and the faint hum of the runes etched into its scales. 

Behind us, the sealed door loomed ominously, a stark reminder of our predicament. There was no turning back. 

'Here we go,' I thought, gripping the Aetherblade tightly. 'This isn't just a fight for survival—it's a test of everything we've prepared for.' 

The dragon let out a deafening roar, a sound that shook the very foundations of the ruin. Its golden eyes locked onto us with a predatory intensity, and in that moment, the battle began.