Shadows of the Past

The tunnel stretched into an abyss of silence, its walls damp and cold to the touch. Evelyn kept her fingers lightly grazing the hilt of her sword as she followed Soren deeper into the darkness. The only sounds were their quiet footsteps and the distant echo of dripping water.

"How did you find this place?" she asked, her voice hushed.

Soren glanced over his shoulder. "I was tracking the masked warrior when I stumbled upon old ruins. This tunnel was beneath them. I started digging, and I found something buried—a chamber filled with writings."

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. "Writings? What kind?"

He hesitated before answering. "Ancient texts, older than the kingdom itself. They speak of a forgotten order… and a prophecy. One that mentions you."

Her breath caught. "Me?"

"Not by name, but it describes a warrior marked by fate, bound to the rise or fall of a great power." He paused, then added, "And it speaks of the masked warrior."

Evelyn's grip tightened. "Then we need to see it."

They moved deeper until the tunnel opened into a vast underground chamber. Torches flickered against stone walls covered in ancient carvings. At the center, a pedestal stood, upon which lay a collection of aged scrolls.

Soren stepped forward and picked one up, unrolling it carefully. "This is what I wanted to show you. Read this."

Evelyn took the parchment, her eyes scanning the faded ink. And as she read, a chill ran down her spine.

The prophecy spoke of betrayal, war… and a shadow that would consume the world.