Cronicals of the Abyss

The journey to Drakmor was arduous, stretching over weeks of travel through dense forests, rocky mountains, and vast plains. Revan and Kael had encountered their fair share of dangers—wild beasts, roaming bandits, and the occasional Abyss-tainted creature that lingered on the edges of reality. Yet, despite the hardships, Revan found himself growing stronger, both physically and mentally.

The shard of the Abyss rested in a small pouch at his side, pulsing faintly, its whispers growing quieter as he learned to control its influence. He had begun experimenting with his Shadow abilities under Kael's watchful eye, honing his Resonance Arts and developing new techniques.

But Drakmor was unlike anything he had imagined.

---

As they crossed the final hill, the city of Drakmor came into view, sprawling across a volcanic plateau. The skyline was dominated by massive spires of black and crimson stone, their jagged peaks illuminated by the glow of molten lava flows that snaked through the city like veins. The air was thick with the scent of sulfur and smoke, and the faint hum of Resonance energy buzzed in the atmosphere.

Kael whistled low. "Welcome to Drakmor, the Dominion of Fire. Home of the most stubborn, hot-headed people you'll ever meet."

Revan couldn't help but be awestruck. "It's... massive."

"Yeah, and dangerous," Kael warned. "This place is ruled by strength. If you don't have power, you're nothing. So, keep your wits about you."

Revan nodded, clutching the hilt of his dagger as they descended the hill and approached the city gates.

---

The gates were flanked by towering statues of fire-wielding warriors, their weapons ablaze with crimson light. Guards in ornate armor inspected everyone entering, their piercing gazes scanning for troublemakers.

Kael handed over a few coins to one of the guards, who waved them through with a grunt.

"Bribery works wonders," Kael muttered as they passed.

Once inside, Revan was struck by the sheer chaos of the city. The streets were alive with activity—merchants shouting their wares, street performers displaying their Resonance abilities, and brawls breaking out in the corners. The heat was oppressive, the lava flows casting a fiery glow that made shadows dance wildly.

"This way," Kael said, leading Revan through the crowded streets. "We need to find lodging first. Then, I'll show you where to make some coin."

Revan followed, his eyes darting around as he took in the sights. The people of Drakmor were as fierce as the city itself—proud, bold, and unafraid to show their strength. He noticed that many wore talismans or carried weapons engraved with fire symbols, marks of their Resonance Seals.

---

Kael led them to a small, run-down inn in the lower district. The room they rented was cramped and smelled faintly of sulfur, but it was better than sleeping on the streets. After dropping off their belongings, Kael turned to Revan.

"Alright, listen up. If we're going to survive here, we need money—and fast. There's a place called the Crimson Arena where people fight for coin and glory. It's brutal, but it's the quickest way to earn some respect around here."

Revan raised an eyebrow. "You want me to fight in an arena?"

"Not just you. Both of us," Kael replied. "It's a team-based setup. Think of it as practice for whatever's coming next."

Revan hesitated. He had fought before—against bandits, creatures, even the Eclipse Covenant—but this was different. This was a public spectacle, a test of skill and survival in front of an audience.

"Fine," he said finally. "Let's do it."

---

The Crimson Arena was a sprawling underground complex, its entrance hidden behind a nondescript tavern in the heart of the city. Kael led Revan through dimly lit corridors until they emerged into a massive chamber filled with the roar of the crowd.

The arena floor was a circular pit surrounded by tiered seating, where spectators cheered and placed bets. The air was thick with tension and the smell of blood.

A gruff man approached them, his arms crossed. "Newcomers, huh? You'll need to sign up and pay the entry fee. What's your team name?"

Kael glanced at Revan. "How about 'Shadow's Edge'?"

Revan shrugged. "Works for me."

The man grunted and handed them a slip of paper. "Your first match is tomorrow. Better be ready."

---

That night, Revan and Kael prepared in their room. Kael sharpened his twin blades while Revan practiced summoning his Shadow Wreath, the tendrils of darkness swirling around his arms.

"Remember," Kael said, "this isn't just about winning. It's about making an impression. The stronger you look, the less likely people will mess with you outside the arena."

Revan nodded, his jaw set. "Got it."

---

The next day, the arena was packed. Revan felt the weight of a hundred eyes on him as he and Kael stepped into the pit. Across from them stood their opponents—a pair of fire-wielding Resonance practitioners clad in red and gold armor.

The announcer's voice boomed. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to today's match! In one corner, we have the newcomers, Shadow's Edge! And in the other corner, the blazing champions, Ember Fangs!"

The crowd erupted into cheers and jeers as the combatants took their positions.

A gong sounded, and the match began.

---

The Ember Fangs moved first, their bodies wreathed in flames as they launched fireballs toward Revan and Kael.

Kael dodged with ease, his movements fluid as he closed the distance and engaged one of the opponents in close combat. Meanwhile, Revan summoned his Shadow Wreath, using the tendrils to block the incoming fireballs.

He focused on the second opponent, who was circling him with flames dancing around his fists. Revan moved quickly, using his shadows to create illusions that confused and disoriented his foe.

The crowd gasped as Revan's illusions seemed to multiply, surrounding the fire practitioner. In a moment of hesitation, Revan struck, his dagger slicing through the man's defenses.

Kael finished his opponent with a well-placed strike, and the gong sounded again, signaling their victory.

---

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, some chanting their team name. Revan and Kael stood in the center of the arena, their chests heaving with exertion.

As they left the pit, the gruff man from before approached them. "Not bad for newcomers. Keep this up, and you'll make a name for yourselves in no time."

Revan felt a surge of pride, but it was tempered by a lingering unease. The power he had used in the fight—the shadows, the illusions—it was growing stronger, more natural. But with that strength came a deeper connection to the Abyss, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking a dangerous path.

Kael clapped him on the shoulder. "Not bad, partner. Not bad at all."

Revan managed a small smile. "Thanks. Let's just hope we can keep this up."

As they walked back to the inn, Revan couldn't help but think of the vision he had seen, of the figure that had called him the Shadowborne. The words echoed in his mind: You are the key.

What lay ahead in Drakmor—and beyond—was still a mystery. But one thing was clear: his journey was far from over.