The shadow of the king
The Depths of Thornwood
The Thornwood was no ordinary forest.
It was ancient and twisted, its trees rising like skeletal fingers against the moonlit sky. The air was damp, thick with the scent of decay, and the ground beneath their boots felt unnervingly soft, as if the earth itself had long since rotted.
Even the wind here whispered—not in a way that was natural, but like something unseen was breathing against the back of their necks.
"This place gives me the creeps," Elaris muttered, gripping the hilt of his dagger as his sharp blue eyes scanned the shadows. "Let's get what we need and get out of here."
Lyra pulled her hood tighter, her eyes locked on the barely visible path ahead.
"We can't leave until we know what they're planning."
The Syndicate had been operating in secret for years, remnants of the Alchemist King's loyalists. But now, they weren't just hiding. They were preparing.
And that terrified her more than the forest ever could.
---
Infiltrating the Syndicate's Lair
They moved carefully, stepping over gnarled roots and avoiding the patches of eerie blue fungi that pulsed faintly in the dark.
Then, just ahead, the forest opened into a clearing.
A massive, ruined temple, half-buried beneath creeping vines and jagged stone, loomed in the darkness. Flickering torchlight spilled from within, casting moving shadows along the crumbling archways.
The Syndicate's base.
Callan crouched beside Lyra, his silver eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Too many guards." He gestured toward the entrance, where armored figures paced in formation. "We'll never get in unseen."
Lyra exhaled. She had anticipated this.
She reached into her satchel and pulled out three small vials filled with an inky, swirling liquid.
"Shadowcloak Elixir."
A potion designed for absolute silence and near-invisibility.
She had made it using shadowroot, nightshade berries, and a pinch of powdered obsidian—rare ingredients that required precision and expertise.
The moment she uncorked the first vial, a thin vapor of black mist slithered into the air like a living thing.
"Drink fast. It won't last forever."
The three of them downed the elixir in unison. The effect was instant.
A cool sensation spread through Lyra's veins as her body melted into the shadows. She could still see her hands faintly, like ripples in a reflection, but she was nearly invisible.
"Let's move."
---
Inside the Lion's Den
They slipped past the guards like ghosts, weaving through the temple ruins undetected.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of burning herbs and alchemical fumes.
Massive stone pillars, engraved with ancient alchemical symbols, stretched toward the vaulted ceiling. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with forbidden knowledge, and workbenches cluttered with glass vials, glowing liquids, and half-finished experiments.
And at the center of it all—
A ritual circle.
Carved into the ground, its lines pulsed with an eerie, sickly green light, forming a perfect spiral of arcane energy. Dark crimson alchemical ink ran through the grooves like veins, feeding whatever was being prepared.
At least a dozen Syndicate members knelt in a circle, chanting in low, guttural voices.
Lyra's blood ran cold.
"They're trying to bring him back."
The Alchemist King.
The thought of it made her stomach twist. Even weakened, he had nearly torn the world apart. If the Syndicate succeeded—
There would be nothing left to stop him.
---
The Discovery
Elaris leaned in, whispering. "We should destroy the circle. Stop the ritual before it's too late."
Callan nodded. "I could plant a few explosive glyphs. We take out their workshop, and they won't recover."
But Lyra hesitated.
Destroying the ritual now might not be enough. If they didn't uncover the full extent of the Syndicate's plans, another faction could pick up where they left off.
They needed more information.
She scanned the temple and spotted a large wooden table covered in scrolls, maps, and intricate alchemical diagrams. If there were any clues about the Syndicate's true endgame, they'd be there.
"We need those documents."
Elaris frowned. "That'll take time. Too much time."
"Then let's move fast."
They slipped toward the table, their figures still cloaked in shadow. Lyra's heart pounded as she grabbed the first scroll, her eyes darting over the symbols.
Her stomach clenched.
This wasn't just a resurrection spell.
The Syndicate wasn't just trying to revive the Alchemist King.
They were trying to empower him.
---
The Ambush
Lyra barely had time to process the information before a chilling voice echoed through the chamber.
"Did you really think you could sneak past us?"
The Shadowcloak Elixir wore off in an instant.
The moment the mist evaporated, the Syndicate members turned as one.
Alarms rang.
Torches flared brighter.
And suddenly, they were surrounded.
Callan drew his sword, Elaris reached for his daggers, but it was too late. A blast of energy erupted from the ritual circle, sending a shockwave through the chamber.
Lyra's vision blurred. Dark tendrils of alchemical force wrapped around her arms and legs, pulling her toward the circle.
Callan shouted her name.
Elaris lunged forward.
But the magic was too strong.
The last thing she saw before everything turned to darkness—
Callan and Elaris being forced to flee as Syndicate enforcers closed in.
And then—
Blackness.
---
Captured
Lyra awoke in chains.
The room was dark and damp, lit only by flickering blue alchemical lanterns. The walls were made of rough stone, lined with ancient symbols meant to suppress magic.
She struggled against the bindings, but they burned against her skin—alchemy-infused shackles.
Footsteps echoed.
A hooded figure approached, their voice smooth, taunting.
"You have no idea what you've stepped into, little alchemist."
They knelt beside her, gripping her chin, forcing her to meet their gaze.
Cold. Ruthless. Fanatic.
"The Alchemist King will rise again. And you? You will be the first to witness his return."