The Mausoleum Part 1

The forest behind the academy was eerily silent. Riven moved through the dense foliage with practiced ease, the moon casting pale beams through the canopy above. The air here was heavier, thicker - saturated with mana that prickled at his skin. It was different from the controlled energy within the academy walls. This was raw. Untamed.

Riven's skin prickled as an unsettling presence washed over him.

[[ You've got followers. ]]

He stilled, his footsteps halting as the shadows beneath him flickered and trembled, mirroring the slow burn of anger igniting in his chest.

"So they've already sent spies." His voice was low, edged with quiet fury. The restraints of a leash were already beginning to tighten around his neck. Would he have to hide everything he did from now on?

[[ I've detected three mages using a stealth skill in the canopy above. ]]

Shit.

[[ I've got an idea. Sit down and pretend to absorb mana. ]]

Riven exhaled sharply but saw no other option. Moving deliberately, he lowered himself to the ground, crossing his legs as if preparing to meditate. He closed his eyes, feigning deep concentration.

[[ Scanning… ]]

A pulse of energy rippled through him, starting from the crown of his head and flowing down to his toes like a current of static.

[[ Scan complete. Creating copy. ]]

Riven resisted the urge to shudder as the air around him shimmered, distorting for the briefest moment before settling.

[[ Now, wrap the shadows around yourself and slip away into the forest. ]]

Without hesitation, he manipulated the darkness, drawing the shadows around him like a second skin. They coiled over his form, swallowing him in an ink-like veil.

He moved swiftly, soundlessly, toward the dense tree line ahead. As he reached the cover of the forest, he cast a glance back.

Sitting exactly where he had been moments ago was a flawless duplicate - an illusion so perfect that even the faint rise and fall of breath was replicated.

Riven raised a brow, begrudgingly impressed.

[[ Aren't I the best? ]]

He rolled his eyes but said nothing, slipping further into the woods. The towering willows around him swayed in the soft breeze, their long branches trailing like ghostly fingers in the night air. Now that he knew these lands had once been part of Varethun, he couldn't help but look at them differently - with a spark of something dangerously close to excitement.

He slowed his steps as he reached the designated meeting point—a clearing where the moonlight pooled like silver liquid across the forest floor. Shadows stretched unnaturally at the edges of the space, twisting and writhing like living things.

"You said there was a place dense with dark mana." Riven's voice was low, his gaze sweeping the surroundings. "Where?"

A soft laugh echoed, though there was no physical form to match it. Instead, a black mist coiled in the air before him, swirling into a faint humanoid shape. Two glowing obsidian eyes flickered within the haze.

[[ You always get straight to the point. No fun at all. ]]

Riven crossed his arms, his voice edged with irritation. "I don't have time for games, Nyx. Not when they're already trying to monitor my every move."

The shadows around Nyx pulsed once, and the air shifted. Suddenly, Riven felt it - a deep, thrumming presence beneath the ground. Dark mana, old and potent, radiated from somewhere below.

He took a step forward, the sensation intensifying. The power here was suffocating, pressing against his skin in slow, deliberate waves.

"Where is it coming from?" he asked, keeping his tone even.

Nyx's grin widened, and she spoke without the system this time. "Beneath you."

Riven narrowed his eyes, kneeling to brush his fingers against the damp earth. As soon as his skin made contact, something within him stirred - his own mana responding, resonating with the presence below. The shadows curled instinctively around his hand, eager.

He clenched his jaw. "There's something down there."

"Very perceptive, your highness." Nyx said with her hands on her hips.

He focused on the energy pulsing beneath him. This wasn't just lingering mana - it was something contained, restrained… as if it had been sealed long ago.

His fingers pressed deeper into the damp earth. The shadows around him flickered with anticipation, reacting to whatever lay below.

"This isn't just a mana-rich pocket you've found," Riven muttered. "It's like a vault."

Nyx's obsidian eyes gleamed with something close to delight. "A mausoleum, actually."

Riven's head snapped up. "A what?"

"A burial site," she clarified, stepping closer. "Or more accurately, a prison."

The ground beneath him seemed to hum in response. He could feel it now—layers upon layers of old magic, tightly woven like chains. This wasn't just any burial ground. This was a place meant to keep something in.

Riven's stomach tightened. "And you brought me here why, exactly?"

Nyx shrugged, feigning innocence. "We needed dark mana, didn't we? This place is loaded with it."

A deep exhale left Riven's lips. He already knew this was reckless. Digging into a place that the academy likely didn't even know existed? Whatever was sealed here had been left alone for a reason.

And if this was related to Varethun? It was even more of a reason to leave this place alone.

But… the lure of dark mana, untainted and ancient, was impossible to ignore.

"Fine," he said at last, standing. "How do we open it?"

Nyx's grin widened. "I thought you'd never ask."

She raised a hand, and the shadows around them reacted instantly, shifting unnaturally as if something unseen was moving beneath the surface.

[[ Activating: Shadow Engraving ]]

A surge of information flooded Riven's mind. Symbols, glyphs, ancient markings burned themselves into his memory. His body moved instinctively, tracing the lines of an unfamiliar magic circle in the air, his mana latching onto the runes effortlessly.

The ground beneath them shuddered.

Cracks split the earth, widening into jagged lines as mana pulsed outward. The wind howled, and the air thickened with something Riven could only describe as presence.

Then… silence.

A deep, hollow click reverberated through the clearing.

And the ground caved in.

Riven barely had time to react before the earth beneath him vanished, and he was falling.

—x—

The descent was brief but jarring. Riven landed hard, shadows cushioning his fall just before he hit the stone floor. Dust clouded the air as loose debris tumbled from above.

Nyx's form materialized beside him, perfectly unscathed. "Well, that was dramatic."

Riven pushed himself up, scanning their surroundings. The chamber was massive, its walls lined with ancient carvings glowing faintly with runes. Statues of armored figures loomed in the darkness, their expressions frozen in grim determination.

But what drew his attention wasn't the statues. It was the door at the far end of the chamber.

It was colossal—twenty feet high, made of obsidian stone that pulsed with dark energy. Thick chains wrapped around it, inscribed with runes that still hummed faintly with mana, though time had weakened them.

Something was locked behind it.

Something powerful.

Nyx exhaled, sounding almost giddy. "Oh, this is even better than I expected."

Riven turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Tell me what's behind that door."

Nyx's violet eyes glowed. "The remnants of a forgotten age. A relic of Varethun's past."

A relic.

Memories surfaced of the moment he had been pulled into the Abyss after learning his fireball skill. The suffocating darkness. The weight of unseen eyes. And most of all, the voice.

"Beware… the academy… find the relic… Abyss Born."

Riven's jaw tightened. Could that warning have been about this place?

His gaze flicked to Nyx, who was still running her fingers over the remnants of the chains sealing the mausoleum door.

"Nyx," he said slowly, his voice steady. "Are there any other Abyss Born like you still around today?"

Nyx turned to him, blinking in surprise. "Most of them descended back into the Abyss when Velmorian was destroyed," she said, her tone carrying a rare note of sadness. "They've been slumbering ever since, waiting for the next heir to rise." Her obsidian eyes studied him, curiosity glinting beneath the melancholy. "Why? Did you meet someone other than me?"

"I… think so." Riven frowned, trying to pull the memory into focus. It was like grasping at fog. "My mind was hazy at the time, but I'm sure they gave me a warning about this place. And they mentioned a relic."

Nyx went silent, thoughtful. Then, slowly, a smile crept across her face, sharp and full of excitement. "Perhaps the awakening has already begun." She turned back to the massive door, placing both hands against its surface. "All the more reason to blow this wide open."

Before she could make another move, Riven reached out, gripping her shadow-wrapped shoulder. She stiffened, glancing back at him with mild surprise.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask since you told me about Velmorian." His blue eyes met hers, unwavering. "How was he destroyed?"

For a moment, something flickered across Nyx's face—an emotion too raw for her usual playful facade. Her glowing eyes widened, then darkened as she looked away.

"That…" Her voice was quieter now, almost distant. "…is a story for another time."

Riven didn't press. Whatever had happened to Velmorian, it was still a wound she wasn't ready to reveal. Instead, he turned his attention back to the mausoleum, scanning the chamber for anything that might hint at what lay behind the door.

His gaze fell once more on the statues lining the walls.

Something was off.

"I thought there weren't any humans in Varethun." His voice was barely above a murmur as he stepped closer, examining the armored figures. "So why are these statues human? Shouldn't they be dragons?"

Nyx tilted her head, then chuckled, trailing a shadowy hand over the helmet of one of the statues. "Who knows?" she mused. "Maybe there were humans who ascended before Velmorian. Or perhaps the dragons could shift forms. There are no records of Varethun left. Everything we know is fragments, speculation." Her fingers drummed lightly against the stone helm. "In the end, all we can do is theorize."

A deep rumble reverberated through the chamber, sending vibrations through the stone floor. Riven instinctively took a step back from the statue, his muscles tensing. Across the room, Nyx moved toward the chained door, placing her hands against the cold obsidian surface once more.

"It knows we're here," she murmured, barely above a whisper.

Riven's mind raced. If whatever was behind this door could sense them, then it was either still alive—or something far worse.

"System," he said, keeping his voice steady, "can you scan what's behind this door?"

[[ Conducting area scan… Please wait… ]]

A flicker of hope surged in his chest. The system had pulled off impossible feats before—maybe this time it could unveil the mystery lurking within.

A red notification appeared.

[[ Attempt failed. ]]

[[ Access restricted. ]]

Riven's stomach tightened. "Restricted?!"

Nyx chuckled, utterly amused by his frustration. "Did you really think it was going to be that easy?"

Before Riven could snap back, the chamber rumbled again—this time, more violently. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling as the vibrations sent deep cracks through the stone beneath them. Riven braced himself against the crumbling wall, fingers digging into the rough surface to keep steady.

Then, a voice.

Deep, guttural, ancient.

"Why do you come here, child of shadow?"

Nyx flinched back from the door, her usually playful demeanor vanishing in an instant. The air thickened, pressing against them like an unseen weight.

Riven's breath stilled. His instincts screamed at him to run, but he forced himself to stay rooted.

"…Who are you?" he asked, his voice steady despite the tension clawing at his spine.

Nyx stepped in front of him, her stance shifting almost protectively. It was subtle—but he noticed.

The voice rumbled again, vibrating through the walls, through him.

"I am Waunuk of the Obsidian Realm." The name carried a weight that sent a chill down Riven's spine. "I am the master of secrets, lies, and deception."

Riven flicked a glance at Nyx, searching for any recognition in her expression. But for once, she was silent.

His fingers curled into a fist. He had a more pressing question.

"Why are you sealed here?"

Silence stretched for a heartbeat—then a slow, low chuckle filled the chamber, dark and knowing.

"If you seek that answer," Waunuk's voice hummed with amusement, "then step forward and enter my tomb."