The door creaked open with an unsettling groan, its hinges protesting after years of disuse. Matrim stepped inside, his boots falling softly against the worn stone floor. The air was thick with dust and the faint scent of decay. It was cold here, colder than the rest of Silvermoon, and there was an undeniable heaviness to the atmosphere. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the echo of his footsteps in the empty hall.
The space was dimly lit by the faintest glow from cracks in the stone, as though the walls themselves were imbued with some forgotten power. Matrim’s gaze swept the room, noting the strange markings etched into the stone around him. They were symbols he didn’t recognize, ancient in their design, almost as though they belonged to a time long past, before the Sunwell or even Silvermoon itself.
The pull that had brought him here was stronger now, thrumming like a heartbeat beneath the floor, reverberating through the air. He could feel it more intensely than ever, as if the city had become a part of him, or he a part of it. It wasn’t just the architecture or the magic that gripped him—it was something buried deeper, something hidden in the very foundation of this place.
He moved further into the building, his eyes scanning for any clue, any sign that would explain why he was here. The room stretched ahead into a dark corridor, and the pull seemed to grow stronger the further he went. There was no turning back now. Whatever was hidden in this place was calling to him, demanding he uncover it.
The corridor led him down into what could only be described as a subterranean chamber. The walls were lined with shelves, most of them empty, though some held cracked relics and ancient tomes. At the far end of the chamber stood a large, stone altar. It was adorned with more of the strange symbols, and something about it sent a chill down Matrim’s spine.
He took another step forward, and as he did, his fingers brushed against the edge of one of the shelves. Suddenly, the stone wall behind the altar shifted, grinding against the air as it slowly began to slide open. Matrim froze, his heart pounding. The movement was subtle, nearly imperceptible at first, but the wall was indeed giving way—revealing a narrow passage leading deeper into the heart of the stone beneath Silvermoon.
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He realized that the shelf had been designed not just for storage, but to serve as a mechanism to unlock the passage—something ancient, purposeful. The design seemed to follow an old style of enchantment, more primitive than what he had seen in the city above, but undeniably potent.
The passageway was dark, and a chill crawled down Matrim’s spine as the door opened further, revealing a spiraling staircase leading deeper into the earth. It was narrow, almost claustrophobic, but Matrim felt an undeniable compulsion to move forward. The pull was stronger now than ever, like a tug at his chest, urging him to descend into the unknown.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward, entering the shadowy corridor. The air grew colder with each step, and the faint hum of magic around him intensified, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The stone walls seemed to close in around him, as though the very city was wrapping him in its embrace, drawing him closer to something that had been waiting for centuries.
At the bottom of the stairs, Matrim found himself in a larger chamber, this one far more elaborate than the others he had passed through. Strange artifacts lined the walls—pieces of long-forgotten history that hummed with power. A large stone pedestal stood at the center, and atop it rested a crystal, its faint glow casting eerie shadows across the room.
The pull, the magnetic force, was unbearable now. Matrim’s hand reached for the crystal before he could stop it, his fingers brushing against its surface. The moment he touched it, a surge of energy coursed through him, and for a moment, his vision blurred.
Flashes of images filled his mind—visions of Silvermoon’s past, of its creation, its ancient magic. The city had once been a place of immense power, linked to forces far beyond the understanding of its current rulers. And in the heart of that power, the crystal had always been there, waiting for the right person to unlock its secrets.
But just as quickly as it came, the vision faded, leaving Matrim stumbling back, gasping for air. The room fell silent again, the crystal's glow dimming to almost nothing. Matrim’s pulse raced, and his mind swirled with the implications of what he had seen.
The city, Silvermoon, was built upon ancient forces—forces that had been buried, hidden from the world for a reason. And somehow, he was connected to it. He didn’t know how, but the pull was undeniable. The answers were here, deep beneath Silvermoon, in this forgotten place.
