The ruins of the Shattered Gate tumbled down the hillside like charred bones, the stone arch rising in stark silhouette against the clouds. From a distance, it could almost pass for a natural feature—a weather-carved arch of crumbling rock.
Almost.
But as Arcanus approached, he saw the precise curvature of the arch, the deliberate symmetry of its keystone, cracked down the center like a wound. His gaze lingered on that break, a shiver trailing his spine.
What was this place, really? Could it truly be a portal to…somewhere?
Judging by the rumors of Hel hounds prowling this hilltop on All Souls’ Eve, he probably didn’t want to know.
A shaft of moonlight broke through the drifting clouds, illuminating the archway. The air within shimmered.
That’s when he saw it.
A ghostly door within the frame, faint but unmistakable, its surface etched with four worn symbols, glowing softly in the moonlight. Somehow he knew.
The door would open, but only when he chose a symbol.