Part 3 – The Player in the Shadows
The sky was dark, but not yet night. Clouds drifted slowly above the shattered towers of Elzareth Keep, once a bastion of forgotten kings. Now, within its walls, only dust and the whisper of time remained.
A man walked silently through the ruins.
A dark cloak shielded him from the wind, and his long, loose hair brushed his shoulders. His face was young, his features refined—almost noble. But his eyes… those amber eyes gleamed as if they had witnessed a thousand ages pass.
Alexander.
He stopped beneath a broken archway, the dying sun behind him. Ahead, a group of merchants had set up camp just outside the walls. They chatted amongst themselves, unaware of his presence.
Eventually, one of them noticed him and approached, hesitant.
"The forests to the north are restless, sir… they say magic has stirred. Something tore the veil."
Alexander didn't answer immediately. He simply lowered his gaze, thoughtful.
"The energy… trembled," he said at last. "And not out of fear."
The merchant swallowed hard. "Do you think it's an omen?"
Alexander smiled, though not kindly.
"No. It's merely an opening." He paused, then added, "And every opening… is an invitation."
He turned his gaze eastward, toward distant lands. The wind caressed his face, carrying with it the scent of something new. Something dangerous. Something… intriguing.
"Show me what you can become, little light."