Into The Depths

Chapter 15: Into the Depths

Riven's feet moved silently through the thick darkness of the Catacombs. The air was damp and stifling, filled with the smell of earth and decay. Each step he took seemed to sink into the very ground, as if the catacombs were swallowing him whole. The weight of the place pressed down on him—an ancient, forgotten realm of secrets and shadows. His heart beat steadily in his chest, but even it seemed drowned out by the oppressive silence.

He had never felt this much danger in one place. The shadows moved like living things, slithering around him, whispering to him, trying to invade his mind. The deeper he went, the more alive the darkness felt. It pulled at him, calling him toward an unknown destination.

The walls of the catacombs were lined with strange runes, etched deep into the stone, and he could almost feel the magic pulsing from them. This was no ordinary underground maze. This was a place of arcane power, ancient rituals, and forgotten gods—a tomb for secrets buried long ago.

Riven could feel the weight of the Black Dawn's presence here, hidden in the veins of this forsaken place. He had uncovered bits and pieces from the documents in the House of Mirrors, but they hadn't prepared him for this. The Catacombs weren't just a physical location; they were a heart, a core where everything dark in Black Hollow began. The more he moved through its depths, the more he realized how intertwined the Catacombs were with the fate of the city, and perhaps, with his own.

As Riven advanced through the twisting corridors, a cold gust of air blew across his neck, causing his skin to prickle. The darkness around him seemed to shift, becoming thicker, more suffocating. The shadows whispered, curling around him like an ancient language he couldn't quite understand.

He had never felt this kind of pull before. It was as though the shadows were calling to him, beckoning him closer, asking him to embrace his true nature.

Riven paused, reaching out with his senses. He could feel the Shadowborn power rising in him, but it was no longer just under his control. The power surged, growing stronger, darker—and for a moment, he feared it might overwhelm him.

His breathing quickened, and the shadow tendrils that had once been his tool now danced at his fingertips, eager to reach out, to test their limits.

Suddenly, a cold laugh echoed through the catacombs, a sound that sent a chill through his very bones. Riven's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing.

"Is that you, Shadowborn?" The voice was faint, but it reverberated through the stone walls. It was familiar. It was haunting.

"Who's there?" Riven called out, his voice echoing through the darkness.

From the depths of the shadows, a figure emerged. It was human, but the shadows clung to it like a second skin. The figure was cloaked, with its face hidden beneath the hood, but there was no mistaking the presence.

"Ah, I see. The Shadowborn has come to claim his birthright," the voice purred, its tone laced with mockery. "But can you truly control the darkness, or will it control you?"

Riven's hand went instinctively to the dagger at his side, but before he could react, the figure vanished, melding with the darkness like it had never been there.

Riven was left alone once again, but the air had changed. There was no longer a quiet hum in the catacombs. Instead, there was a presence, a watching force. It was as if the very walls were alive, observing him, testing him. The deeper he moved, the more he felt the weight of something ancient, something powerful that had been waiting for him all this time.

As he moved farther into the depths, the catacombs seemed to open into a vast chamber, its ceiling towering high above. In the center of the room stood an altar, covered in layers of dust and cobwebs, but unmistakably sacred. The walls around it were etched with more runes, glowing faintly in the dim light.

On the altar lay an object, a dark stone carved with intricate symbols, glowing faintly with an eerie light.

This was it.

The heart of the Black Dawn. The power they had been seeking for so long.

Riven stepped closer, his senses alert, his shadow reacting to the stone. It was as if the stone itself was calling out to him, urging him to take it, to claim it.

His fingers brushed against the stone, and instantly, he felt the surge of power flow through him. His vision blurred, and the air around him grew thick, almost suffocating. The shadows around him began to take shape, swirling and forming into creatures, monstrous beings that lunged at him with twisted limbs.

Riven didn't hesitate. His shadow chains exploded from his hands, wrapping around the dark creatures, pulling them into the void. But the more he struck, the more creatures emerged, their eyes glowing with malice. They were born of the darkness, feeding off the very power he had just uncovered.

It was clear now. The Black Dawn had tapped into something ancient—something that fed off the shadows, something that had once been locked away in the catacombs, waiting for the right moment to return.

Riven fought with everything he had. His shadow chains lashed out, cutting through the creatures as they kept coming, but they didn't stop. They multiplied, filling the chamber with an overwhelming sense of darkness.

The shadows were no longer his ally. They were his enemy, and he was now trapped in a battle for control of the very power he sought to master.

 But even with this power, Riven felt the weight of it pressing on him. His heart pounded, and the shadow energy surged through him, making it difficult to breathe.

The shadows finally began to thin, but as they dissipated, a figure emerged from the depths—the assassin from earlier, his face still hidden beneath a mask of shadows.

"You're stronger than I thought," the assassin said, his voice laced with amusement. "But the power of the Black Dawn is not something you can control. It will consume you, just as it consumed us."

Riven's eyes narrowed.

"Then why are you here?"The assassin took a step forward. "I was once like you—Shadowborn. But the darkness claimed me. It twisted my mind, my soul. And now I serve the Black Dawn, just as you will."

Riven's hand clenched. "You're wrong. I'm not like you."

The assassin smiled behind his mask. "We'll see. In time, you'll come to understand."

The assassin lunged, but Riven was quicker. His shadow chains lashed out, binding the assassin's arms before they could strike. With a single, swift motion, Riven drove a dagger into the assassin's chest. The figure gasped, his body going limp.

As the assassin collapsed, Riven took a deep breath. More shadows emerged, but this time, they felt weaker, more faint. The power of the Black Dawn was still there, but it was no longer fully in control. Riven had claimed it.

But at what cost?

Riven stepped back from the altar, breathing heavily. The shadows around him began to recede, fading into the darkness. The catacombs felt quieter, less oppressive, but he knew that this was only the beginning.

The power of the Black Dawn had been awakened. And it had come for him.

Riven stood alone in the darkness, the stone still glowing faintly in his hands. His mind was reeling from the battle, the weight of the power that had surged through him. He wasn't just a tool anymore. He was a force.

But that force came at a price. The shadows were now part of him. And no matter how hard he tried to control them, he knew deep down that they would always be with him.

Riven had crossed the point of no return.

End of Chapter 15