Capítulo 1: Into the Shadows
From the moment Azra set foot in the desert, the wind whispered secrets.
The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the endless stretch of sand. With each passing moment, the warmth of the day was swallowed by the chill of the approaching night. Azra pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, but it was more out of instinct than a desire for warmth. This cold was different—deeper, unnerving. It gnawed at her, as though something was watching her from just beyond sight.
She took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the empty landscape. Ahead, barely visible through the rising dust, stood the outline of Al'Khari, the forgotten city. Locals refused to speak of it in anything but hushed tones. They had warned her of curses, of lost souls that wandered its abandoned streets, but Azra was not the kind to be swayed by mere superstition.
She wasn't here by choice—at least not entirely. The dusty journal she carried, left behind by her father, had led her to this place. Its pages were filled with cryptic notes, sketches of ancient symbols, and a map leading her to the heart of this forsaken city. Her father had vanished years ago, his obsession with the supernatural carrying him to places no one dared to go. Azra had vowed never to follow his path, but here she was, driven by questions too heavy to leave unanswered.
The city loomed closer now, the remnants of its towering walls reaching skyward like the bones of some ancient beast. As she passed through what remained of the city's gate, the atmosphere changed. The air felt heavier here, as if the very earth was holding its breath. A thick silence settled over the landscape, broken only by the occasional gust of wind swirling the sand in soft, menacing whispers.
Azra's footsteps echoed faintly off the crumbling stone streets. She glanced around warily, her senses heightened. Al'Khari was deserted, but it didn't feel empty. The old buildings, some still standing despite centuries of decay, seemed to shift in the corner of her vision as though they were watching her. She pushed the thought away, tightening her grip on the journal.
Her father had written of this place as if it held the answers to everything he'd sought. He believed that here, buried beneath layers of sand and time, lay the proof of the supernatural—the creatures that lurked in legends and bedtime stories. And though Azra had spent years dismissing his tales as the ramblings of a broken man, there was a part of her, a small part, that feared he was right.
She wandered deeper into the city, navigating the twisted alleys with the map sketched in her mind. The buildings grew closer together, casting deeper shadows as the night settled in. It was then she noticed something strange—a flicker of movement at the edge of her vision. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest, but when she turned to look, there was nothing but darkness.
Her pulse quickened. She had known this journey would be dangerous, but it was the stillness that unnerved her the most. It felt unnatural. Al'Khari wasn't just abandoned—it was as though it had been forgotten by time itself. No birds, no insects. Just the occasional gust of wind and the unsettling quiet.
Then, it happened again. The flicker of a shadow, barely discernible, darted between two ancient structures. This time, she was sure. Someone—or something—was watching her.
Azra's hand instinctively moved toward the small dagger she kept strapped to her belt, though she knew it would do little against whatever lurked in the dark. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. The journal had warned of this. Her father's last entries had become erratic, filled with warnings of creatures that stalked the night—ghouls that fed on the flesh of the dead, djinn who toyed with the minds of the living.
But there was one entry that had stood out to her the most, one that had sent chills down her spine when she first read it: Beware the eyes that do not blink. They see you, even when you do not see them.
She pushed the thought away and pressed forward, deeper into the labyrinth of streets. The flickering shadows persisted, always just beyond the edge of her sight, never close enough to fully see but always there. It was as if the city itself was alive, watching her every step, testing her resolve.
At the center of Al'Khari lay the ruins of an ancient temple, its grand pillars now crumbling, half-buried in the sands. This was where the map had led her, and as she approached, she felt a deep, foreboding presence emanating from the place. The air around her seemed to grow colder still, and her breath hung in front of her in pale clouds.
Suddenly, the wind died completely. The silence was suffocating.
Azra hesitated at the foot of the temple steps, her instincts screaming at her to turn back. But something compelled her forward—perhaps the same force that had drawn her father here so many years ago. She ascended the cracked stone steps, each one feeling like a step further from the world she knew.
As she reached the top, she saw it—a figure standing at the far end of the temple, barely visible in the shadows. It was tall, cloaked in darkness, its face hidden beneath a hood. For a moment, it did not move, and neither did Azra. She could feel its eyes on her, unblinking, piercing through the veil of shadows between them.
Her father's words echoed in her mind, the warning she had dismissed as madness. Beware the eyes that do not blink.
The figure shifted, taking a single step forward. Azra's heart raced, her body frozen in place. She had come here seeking answers, but now she feared she might never leave. The darkness around her seemed to close in, suffocating, as the figure took another step closer.
And then, as if on cue, the wind howled back to life, swirling sand in every direction, obscuring her vision. When it cleared, the figure was gone. But the feeling of being watched remained, as if the very shadows of the temple had taken on a life of their own.
Azra exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She was not alone here—not anymore. Something ancient, something dangerous, had woken. And it had seen her.
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