Chapter 2 The bone whisperer

The bone in Dante's hand seemed to hum with a low, insistent thrum, its malevolent glow intensifying in the dim light of Elara's workshop. The ancient symbol etched into its surface pulsed like a trapped heartbeat, a dark echo of a magic she had desperately tried to bury. It wasn't merely a summons, it was a violation, a chilling intrusion into the carefully warded corners of her mind.

Elara forced herself to breathe, the scent of dying lilies suddenly felt suffocating. "Where...Where did you find this?", her voice was barely a whisper, betraying the icy dread that coiled in her stomach.

Dante's gaze remained fixed on the bone, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "Near the docks. One of our runners...found him like this" he gestured vaguely. "Lifeless. Drained. And this was clutched in his hand". He finally looked up at her, his dark eyes unwavering. "He was...emptied. As if something has taken everything".

The description sent a shiver down Elara's spine that had nothing to do with the creeping cold. That feeling of being drained, of one's very essence being stolen was a hallmark of a specific, predatory magic__a magic tied to the ancient entity the symbol represented. An entity she had hoped was nothing more than a terrifying legend.

"This symbol..." Elara began, her voice gaining a slight of steadiness. " It belongs to something...old. Something dangerous. It hasn't been seen in the realm for centuries ".

The brute flanking, Dante shifted impatiently, his hand resting on the holster beneath his jacket. Dante, however, held his gaze on Elara, a flicker of something akin to reluctant respect in his eyes. "Old doesn't scare us" he said in hard tone.

"It's dangerous. Especially when it starts killing our people".

"This isn't....the kind of danger you're used to" Elara warned, the weight of forgotten lore pressing down on her. "This isn't about territory or rivals. This is about....consumption. About a hunger that can't be satisfied with blood or money ".

"Then tell me what it wants". Dante demanded, taking another step closer. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, a strange mix of fear and a reluctant, dawning understanding. Tell me how to stop it".

Elara hesitated. To speak of the entity to acknowledge its return, felt like giving it more power . But the chilling image of the drained runner, the unsettling hum of the bone, and the raw fear she had glimpsed in Dante's eyes painted a grim picture. The underworld, already steeped in violence, was facing a threat far beyond its usual comprehension.

"It feeds on essence", she finally said, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. "Life force. Magic. It leaves behind....husks" she looked at the bone again, the glowing symbol a malevolent eye starring back. "And this symbol....it's a marker. A beacon".

Dante's brow furrowed. "A beacon for what?"

Before Elara could answer, a sudden wave of nausea washed over her. The air in the workshop grew colder still, the humming of the bone intensifying to a painful throb in her temples. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to deepen, to write with an unseen energy. The scent of dying lilies was replaced by something else, something ancient and cloying, like the dust of forgotten tombs and the metallic tang of old blood.

Elara gasped, clutching her head. The whisper in her mind returned, no longer a faint slither but a clear, resonant call. It wasn't just calling to her anymore. It was calling through her.

Her eyes locked onto the bone in Dante's hand, and terrifying realization dawned. The symbol wasn't just a marker. It was a key. And somehow, her presence, her very being as the last enchantress, was turning the key.

The bone pulsed again, and this time, Elara felt__a faint tug, a drawing sensation, as if something vast and ancient was reaching out,sensing her, recognizing her.

Dante, noticing her distress, stepped forward, his usual composure momentarily cracking with concern. "What is it? What's happening?".

But Elara couldn't answer. The call intensified, becoming a deafening roar in her mind. The shadows in the room writhed faster ,coalescing into a vaguely humanoid form in the darkest corner. And from that form, a voice, cold and ancient as the void between stars, echoed in Elara's thoughts, a single, chilling word that made her blood run cold:

"AWAKENED".