Chapter 4: City of Nightfall
Nightfall wasn't just a city.
It was a labyrinth of lights and lies, built on the bones of forgotten kingdoms. Its towers stretched high, like crooked fingers grasping at the stars, while its alleys twisted below, cloaked in smoke and whispers.
Here, secrets were currency. And Elara and Caelum had just stepped into the heart of it.
Wrapped in cloaks of shadow, they moved through the southern gate under the guise of traveling merchants. The streets shimmered with floating lanterns and glowing sigils. Music echoed faintly, carried by the wind, but there was tension in the air—like the city itself was holding its breath.
"Keep your hood up," Caelum murmured. "Thorne has eyes everywhere."
Elara nodded. "We're looking for the Masked Oracle. Lyric said she's the only one who can reveal the shard's true location."
"And she'll only speak to those who survive the city's Trial of Truth," Caelum added grimly.
"I was hoping that part was exaggerated."
He gave her a half-smile. "In Nightfall? Never."
🏙️ A City of Masks and Mirrors
They arrived at the Broken Square, the market at the center of Nightfall. It was chaos and color — stalls overflowing with cursed relics, dream-fruits, floating candles, and potions that hissed with trapped spirits.
Suddenly, a coin pouch vanished from Caelum's belt.
"Elara—"
"I saw him," she whispered.
A boy darted through the crowd, impossibly fast. But before he could vanish into the shadows, Elara raised her hand. A gust of shimmering light pushed him back — gently, but firmly.
He landed on his feet, blinking up at her.
He was maybe fifteen. Tan skin, sharp green eyes, and a smug grin.
"Nice trick," he said. "You're not from around here."
"Give it back," Elara said gently.
The boy hesitated, then tossed the pouch back to Caelum. "Name's Ash. You're heading for the Oracle, right?"
Caelum tensed. "Why do you care?"
Ash smirked. "Because she only sees those who've been invited. And lucky you… I have an invitation."
🧝♀️ A New Ally
Ash led them down a hidden stair beneath a crumbling statue. They passed through steam-filled tunnels, torchlit corridors, and finally into a cavern carved from glowing obsidian.
There, waiting beside a pool of starlight, was a tall figure draped in silver and blue. Her face was hidden beneath a delicate porcelain mask.
"You seek the third shard," she said, voice echoing strangely.
"The Masked Oracle," Elara whispered.
The Oracle nodded. "But to claim it… one must face the truth that binds them."
The ground trembled. The pool of starlight shimmered—and then pulled all three of them inside.
🌀 The Trial of Truth
Elara stood alone, in a white void. A single mirror floated before her. Inside, she saw herself—not as she was, but as she might have been: cruel, crowned, her heart full of power instead of love.
"Every life," the mirror-Elara whispered, "you choose love over legacy. You lose kingdoms. You fall."
Tears pricked her eyes. "And I would do it again."
The mirror shattered.
Caelum stood before a younger version of himself—loyal, obedient, afraid.
"You disobeyed the Moon Goddess," the boy accused. "You became mortal for her."
"I chose freedom," Caelum said. "And I chose her."
Ash faced a vision of his mother, vanishing into smoke, leaving him in the streets of Nightfall.
"You always run," she whispered. "You trust no one."
He gritted his teeth. "Maybe it's time I stopped."
💎 The Oracle's Prophecy
When they awoke, the Oracle stood before them with a new shard in hand.
"It was never hidden," she said, placing it in Elara's palm. "Only waiting for your truth."
The shard pulsed with warmth. As Elara held it, more memories returned:
— A ballroom beneath a sky of falling stars.— Caelum kissing her in the rain.— Ash, younger, laughing beside her.
"Wait," she whispered. "Ash… we knew each other?"
Ash looked surprised. Then his voice softened. "In a past life. You saved me."
🩸 Crimson Shadows
Outside the cavern, the shadows shifted.
Thorne stood atop a rooftop, eyes fixed on the glowing shard in Elara's hand.
"They have three," he muttered.
A Crimson Circle assassin stepped beside him. "Shall we strike?"
Thorne's eyes burned red. "No. Let them walk free—for now. But make sure the next shard is guarded. I want them to see hope… and then lose it."
🗡️ Rowan's Choice
Far from the city, Rowan rode alone under a crimson moon. The sword at his back whispered ancient words—warnings of fate.
Seraphina appeared in a flash of feathers. "You still follow them."
"I need to know," Rowan said. "If she truly remembers him… or if there's still a place for me in her story."
"You risk unmaking the prophecy."
He looked into the night. "Then maybe the prophecy needs to be rewritten."
🌌 A New Path
Back in the Oracle's chamber, the map shifted again. A fourth shard now glowed—deep within the Abyss of Solas, a place said to eat light and memory.
Elara's voice trembled. "Is that where we go next?"
The Oracle's mask tilted. "Yes. But beware—the Abyss remembers your worst moments. If your bond breaks there… so will your souls."
Caelum reached for Elara's hand.
"We'll survive," he said. "Together."
Ash cracked a grin. "Guess I'm coming with you, then."
And so, three stepped into the night — toward the Abyss, toward truth, and toward the fight to rewrite fate.