Arcana stone

From the cliff's edge, Jorghan surveyed the castle's layout one final time. The stone in his palm pulsed rhythmically, revealing gaps in the magical defences—pathways invisible to normal sight. With practiced precision, he channelled mana into his legs and leapt from the cliff, soaring through the air in a controlled arc.

He landed silently on the nearest rooftop, crouching low to maintain his balance. The red tiles beneath his feet were warm, as if the entire castle were alive and breathing. Jorghan moved like a shadow, each step calculated, each movement economical. The magical sentries swirled around him, but thanks to the Deep Perception granted by the elder's stone, he slipped between them undetected.

Rooftop to rooftop he travelled, occasionally dropping to balconies below when necessary, always keeping the central tower in his sight.

As he approached the heart of the castle, the density of magical barriers increased, forcing him to move with even greater caution.

A narrow window on the tower's eastern face offered the entry point he sought. Jorghan clung to the stone wall beside it, his enhanced hearing detecting no movement within.

With a gentle push, the window yielded to his touch—unlocked, as if inviting him in.

Another trap? he wondered, but the stone remained steady in his hand, showing no signs of danger.

Jorghan slipped through the window into a dimly lit corridor. The air inside was heavy with an unfamiliar scent—something metallic yet sweet, like blood mixed with incense. He wrinkled his nose but pressed forward, guided by an instinct he couldn't explain.

The corridor wound upward in a spiral, leading him higher into the tower. No guards patrolled these halls, but occasional pulses of dark energy rippled through the air—passive security measures that Jorghan navigated with the help of his stone.

Finally, he reached a set of ornate doors at the top of the tower. They stood three times his height, carved from some black material that wasn't quite wood or stone. Strange symbols adorned the surface, similar to those on the pillars outside but more complex, more ancient.

Jorghan pressed his ear against the door.

Silence.

He pushed gently, and to his surprise, the massive door swung open without a sound, revealing Blackhorn's private chambers.

The room was vast and circular, matching the tower's dimensions. High windows allowed moonlight to stream in, illuminating a space that defied conventional understanding of interior design. The floor appeared to be liquid shadow, yet it supported his weight. The ceiling vanished into darkness so profound it seemed to extend into infinity.

But what drew Jorghan's attention was at the centre of the room—a pedestal of twisted obsidian, and upon it, a red sapphire stone that pulsed with inner light. The stone was roughly the size of his fist, cut with facets that seemed to shift and change as he watched.

This was what he had come for.

The rumours had been true.

The Red Sapphire of Arcana—a legendary artefact said to possess the power to tear holes between domains, to create pathways where none existed before.

Jorghan approached the pedestal cautiously, his stone guiding him past several invisible trigger lines on the floor.

Each step was measured, each breath controlled.

When he finally stood before the sapphire, he hesitated. The stone's pulsing matched his heartbeat perfectly, as if they were somehow attuned to each other. He reached out slowly, his small fingers extended toward the glowing gem.

The moment his skin made contact with the sapphire, a rush of power surged through him.

[Stone of Arcana detected!]

The sapphire grew warm in his hand, accepting his touch without triggering any alarms. Jorghan closed his fingers around it, feeling its weight, its significance.

"Well, this is certainly unexpected."

The voice, deep and resonant, came from behind him. Jorghan whirled around, the sapphire clutched tightly in his hand.