The aftermath of the battle rippled not only through Kethra’s streets but also into the lives of those who had crossed paths with the shadow-bearer. Among them were two individuals whose motivations were shrouded in mystery: Elias, the enigmatic scholar, and Coren, the keen-eyed observer who seemed to know more than he let on.

  In a quiet corner of Kethra, the Hall of Records lay eerily silent. Its shelves of ancient tomes and scrolls, usually a haven of calm for Elias, felt oppressive. He sat at his cluttered desk, staring at an open book but reading nothing. His thoughts churned with the events that had unfolded at the Nexus Spire.

  Elias had watched the spire’s glyphs flare and the sky shift unnaturally. He hadn’t been close enough to see the shadow-bearer’s clash with Magister Kaelen, but the whispers that followed painted a vivid picture. The Riftwood’s mark, a portal to another realm, and a battle that shook the city’s foundations—none of it surprised him. It only confirmed what he’d feared.

  “The Riftwood’s threads aren’t just fraying,” Elias muttered to himself. “They’re unraveling.”

  Elias’s mind raced through the fragments of knowledge he had collected over years of study. The Riftwood was more than a forest—it was a nexus of power, a place where the boundaries between realms blurred. Its influence had shaped history, though its true purpose remained a mystery.

  He leaned back in his chair, his hands rubbing his temples. “I warned him,” he said aloud, though no one was there to hear. “But warnings mean little when fate decides otherwise.”

  Elias stood, moving to a shelf where a series of maps and scrolls were carefully rolled and labeled. He pulled out one marked with the Riftwood’s sigil—a twisting, branching symbol—and unrolled it across his desk. The map depicted not just Kethra but the continent beyond, its veins of magic faintly sketched in delicate ink.

  “I can’t stay here,” Elias murmured, his gaze tracing the lines of magic leading back to the Riftwood. “If the Riftwood’s power is awakening, it won’t stop at Kethra.”

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  Elias packed his notes and scrolls with methodical precision. His knowledge of the Riftwood made him valuable—and dangerous. He would seek answers, even if it meant stepping into the shadows himself.

  In a dimly lit room above a bustling tavern, Coren leaned against the windowsill, his sharp eyes fixed on the distant glow of the Nexus Spire. The chaos had settled, but the city still hummed with unease. The shadow-bearer’s presence had shaken Kethra to its core, and Coren had seen enough to know that the story was far from over.

  He took a sip from a worn metal flask, his mind replaying the brief encounter with Rowan in the market square. Coren had seen something in the shadow-bearer—a determination that went beyond survival. It was the look of someone carrying a burden they didn’t yet understand.

  “He’s not done,” Coren said, his voice low. “Not with Kethra. Not with the Riftwood.”

  A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Coren didn’t turn as the door creaked open, revealing a cloaked figure who slipped inside with practiced ease.

  “You were right,” the figure said, their voice hushed. “The Magister fought him, but the Riftwood’s mark is too strong. The spire was... altered.”

  Coren smirked faintly. “Altered? That’s one way to put it.”

  The figure stepped closer, their movements deliberate. “And you still think following him is wise?”

  Coren finally turned, his expression unreadable. “Wise? Probably not. Necessary? Definitely.”

  The figure frowned. “What’s your angle, Coren? The shadow-bearer is dangerous. You said it yourself.”

  Coren shrugged. “Dangerous doesn’t mean useless. If the Riftwood’s power is spilling out into the world, someone needs to be there to make sense of it.”

  “And if it spills over us?”

  Coren’s smirk returned, though it lacked humor. “Then we drown. But I don’t plan on sticking around to watch the flood.”

  Elias and Coren’s paths, though separate, shared a common thread: the Riftwood’s shadow. Elias, armed with knowledge and a thirst for answers, was preparing to leave Kethra in search of the Riftwood’s secrets. Coren, driven by instinct and a knack for seeing opportunity in chaos, was planning to follow Rowan’s trail.

  Both men understood that the shadow-bearer was a key to something far greater than Kethra’s fate. But their motivations differed. Elias sought understanding; Coren sought leverage. Their decisions would place them on a collision course with the unfolding events that would reshape the continent.