章 33: Chapter 33: Return to Elandor
The journey back to Elandor was fraught with tension. The dark land they had crossed to reach the fortress seemed even more oppressive on the return trip, as if the shadows themselves were watching their every move. Draven and his companions moved quickly, their senses on high alert for any sign of the dark sorcerer's presence.
The closer they got to Elandor, the more the weight of the Obsidian Scepter's dark energy seemed to lift, replaced by a growing sense of urgency. Draven knew that time was of the essence. The sorcerer would not remain weakened for long, and they had to find the Lightforged Blade before he could strike again.
As they approached the city gates, Draven felt a wave of relief wash over him. The familiar sight of Elandor's towering walls and the bustling activity of the city's streets brought a sense of normalcy after the harrowing journey through the dark land.
"We made it," Aria said, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "But we can't afford to relax just yet."
Kael nodded, his expression grim. "The archives are our first priority. We need to find the location of the Lightforged Blade as quickly as possible."
Draven agreed, feeling the weight of the scepter in his pack as a constant reminder of the danger they still faced. "Let's not waste any time. We'll head to the Magi Council immediately."
The group made their way through the city, weaving through the crowded streets toward the central spire where the Magi Council was housed. The spire was a towering structure of white stone, its walls adorned with intricate carvings that depicted the history of Valoria and the ancient battles fought by the Magi.
As they entered the spire, they were greeted by a group of Magi who had been alerted to their arrival. The Magi, dressed in their traditional robes of deep blue and gold, bowed respectfully to Draven and his companions.
"Dragon King," one of the Magi, a tall, slender woman with silver hair, addressed him. "We have been expecting you. The Council is prepared to assist you in any way we can."
Draven inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Thank you. We need access to the archives. We're searching for information about the Lightforged Blade."
The Magi exchanged glances, their expressions thoughtful. "The Lightforged Blade," the silver-haired Magi mused. "A weapon of great power, forged in the heart of a dying star. It is said to be the only weapon capable of destroying the Obsidian Scepter."
"That's why we need to find it," Draven said, his voice firm. "The dark sorcerer is after the scepter, and we can't let him use its power."
The Magi nodded in agreement. "The archives contain records of ancient relics and their locations. If the blade's whereabouts were ever documented, it will be in those records."
Without further delay, the group was led to the archives, a vast, underground chamber filled with rows upon rows of shelves, each lined with scrolls, tomes, and artifacts. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and the faint hum of ancient magic.
Draven felt a sense of awe as he stepped into the archives. The knowledge contained within these walls was immense, spanning centuries of history, magic, and lore. But the task ahead was daunting—they had to find a single record among thousands, and time was not on their side.
"We'll split up," Kael suggested, his voice practical. "Cover more ground that way. Look for anything related to the Lightforged Blade, or ancient weapons of light."
Draven nodded, agreeing with the plan. "Let's get to it."
Hours passed as they combed through the archives, each of them focused intently on their search. Scrolls were unfurled, tomes were examined, and ancient texts were translated, but the information they sought remained elusive.
Draven's frustration grew as time slipped away. The thought of the dark sorcerer regaining his strength and striking again filled him with a sense of urgency. They couldn't afford to fail.
"Found something," Aria called out suddenly, her voice breaking the silence of the archives.
Draven and Kael rushed over to where she stood, her eyes scanning the contents of an old, weathered tome. The pages were yellowed with age, the ink faded but still legible.
"It's a record of a battle fought centuries ago," Aria explained, her finger tracing the lines of text. "A battle against a dark sorcerer who wielded a weapon of great power—a weapon that could only be destroyed by the Lightforged Blade."
Draven's heart raced. "Does it say where the blade is located?"
Aria nodded, her expression serious. "It does. According to this record, the blade was taken to the Temple of Light, a hidden sanctuary in the mountains to the east. It was placed there for safekeeping, to ensure that it would only be used in times of dire need."
"The Temple of Light," Kael repeated, his tone thoughtful. "I've heard of it—an ancient place, said to be protected by powerful wards. Finding it won't be easy."
Draven felt a surge of determination. "But it's our only chance. We have to find the blade, no matter what it takes."
The group quickly gathered their findings and made their way back to the surface. The city of Elandor was calm, unaware of the storm that was brewing just beyond its walls. Draven knew that they couldn't delay any longer. The journey to the Temple of Light would be perilous, but they had no other choice.
As they prepared to set out once more, Draven felt the weight of the Obsidian Scepter in his pack, a constant reminder of the dark power they were up against. The fate of Valoria rested on their shoulders, and the path ahead would test them in ways they couldn't yet imagine.
But Draven was ready.
For he was Draven, the last of the Draconic Bloodline, and he would not rest until the Lightforged Blade was found and the darkness was vanquished.
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