The air in Bellenridge felt heavier than usual the next morning. The rain had softened to a steady drizzle as dawn bled through the narrow streets of Bellenridge. Inside the small rooms of the inn and scattered homes, four figures moved quietly, each preparing in their own way for the journey ahead.
Callis sat cross-legged on the floor of his cramped room, candlelight flickering against the dusty stacks of books and parchment surrounding him. His hands trembled slightly as he packed a leather satchel — delicate vials of arcane reagents, enchanted crystals, and an ancient tome bound in cracked red leather.
He paused, fingers brushing the spine.
This isn't just a job.
The Crimson Vault was the key to forbidden knowledge Callis had sought for years — the chance to unlock secrets lost to time, to prove himself beyond the dusty halls of academia. His family had long dismissed his pursuits as folly, the son who chased myths instead of legacy.
If this expedition succeeded, it could redeem him.
And if it failed...
Callis swallowed hard, slinging the bag over his shoulder.
Failure was not an option.
Down the hall, Eno paced back and forth in front of a cracked mirror, checking his worn leather armor and sharpening his daggers with practiced ease. His smirk softened briefly when he caught sight of a small, faded locket hanging from his neck — a worn silver charm engraved with the initials M.L.
He twisted it between his fingers.
Maris had been gone two years now. Taken in a raid on his home village — a wound still raw beneath his bravado.
Every dangerous job he took, every close call... it was all for her memory. To survive, to grow strong enough to protect others from losing what he had.
His grin returned, sharper than before.
This one's for you, Maris.
With one last glance at the locket, Eno stepped out, ready to face whatever traps the Vault might throw his way.
In a modest room near the market, Myra carefully laid out an array of herbs, potions, and bandages on a rough wooden table. She hummed softly, her golden eyes shining with quiet determination.
She picked up a small, cracked vial of amber liquid and held it close.
It was the last batch of a fire-resistance potion she'd brewed — a gift for the group, but more importantly, a symbol.
Myra hadn't always been the confident healer who joked with adventurers or challenged danger head-on. Years ago, she'd been a frightened girl hiding in the shadow of her parents' expectations, her magic weak and uncertain.
But when a plague swept through her village taking numerous lives, and no healer came to help, she decided she would never be powerless again.
This journey was her chance to prove that she could protect others. To be more than a shadow.
She packed the potions carefully, tucking the vial deep in her satchel.
I won't fail them.
Farther down the street, Rei moved quietly in the dim light of his own room. His bronze guild tag rested on the desk, a reminder of the fragile new identity he'd forged.
He checked his daggers, then reached inward, feeling the faint pulse of his power beneath his skin.
The Crimson Vault promised answers — about the world, about the Archons, about himself.
But answers came at a price.
He tightened the straps on his cloak and gathered the essentials: water, rations, a coil of rope, and a small, worn journal filled with partial maps and notes.
His eyes lingered on the artifact from the Marshlight Caverns, still glowing faintly on the desk.
Rei's thoughts drifted to the figure who had saved him — the silent guardian cloaked in light.
Who are you?
And beyond that question, a deeper one:
What am I meant to become?
Later, the four gathered in the inn's common room, their individual preparations behind them, replaced by shared purpose.
Callis laid his books carefully on the table. Eno flipped his daggers with a grin. Myra organized her potions and herbs, eyes steady.
Rei spread the map across the wood, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows.
"This is more than a quest," Rei said, voice low. "It's a step into something larger. We'll face traps, curses, maybe worse. But together... maybe we have a chance."
Eno's grin softened. "I'm not just in it for the thrill. This is about more than treasure. It's about righting wrongs."
Myra nodded. "And healing the wounds we carry."
Callis met Rei's gaze. "Knowledge is power. But power without understanding is dangerous. We must be careful."
Rei folded his hands, heart steadying.
"Then let's prepare to walk into the unknown."
Rei traced a finger along the worn parchment. "The Vault isn't just buried beneath the swamp. We'll have to pass through three main areas before we get there."
"First is the Blighted Marsh," he said. "Formerly part of old Sarynthil's southern wetlands. Now it's just rot and poison—twisted by time, war, and magic that has gone completely wrong. We'll need masks, something to keep the leeches off, and most importantly to be prepared for the monsters that lurk there."
"Charming," Myra muttered.
"Next," Callis continued, "the Caverns of Stillbone. Underground tunnels and tombs. Some say they stretch for miles beneath the old kingdom. But it's not the dark that gets you—it's the echoes. People hear things that aren't there. See things. Memories? No one knows."
Eno leaned in, intrigued. "I heard some ruins down there predate the gods. Crazy stuff. And no one maps the caverns twice. They shift."
"Then last," Callis pointed to a mountain pass on the edge of the map, "we reach Grellin's Reach. A holy city turned fortress. The Church still has strong influence there. They test everyone who is about to enter with a soul stone."
Rei shudders, but ultimately stays quiet.
Myra shook her head, being the only one in the group that knows the soul stone may be a problem for Rei. "We'll need a miracle."
They all stared at the map, the weight of the path ahead settling in.
Three trials. Countless chances to fall apart.
Rei's eyes hardened. "Each step will test us. But if we can make it through, the Crimson Vault will be within reach."
Outside, the rain eased. The first light of dawn stretched over Bellenridge, as if the world itself held its breath for the journey to come.