In the heart of Verlion, a city whose cobbled streets lit up with the purple of magical lanterns, three friends gathered under one of the oldest houses. Alia was a magician with an amethyst staff, Ilan a shadow-hunter and Vera, with her hidden dagger, knew every quiet corner of the city. They had chosen this night deliberately - in the light of the double moon, the Eye of the Dragon was about to shine again in the vaults of the deserted royal library. The Eye of the Dragon was a legendary artefact that, according to the stories of the old men, allowed a glimpse into the innermost memories of anyone who touched it. But legend also held that it was guarded by something that no one had ever seen Or described. The friends dashed through the night city: Vera led them through secret passages between the walls, Alia whispered spells to disperse magical traps, while Ilan, going last, listened for footsteps - city guards and.... something more. Finally, they reached the library. The dark windows stared at them with dead eyes. Climbing up an old gutter, they got inside, where a sunken floor and a staircase leading downwards - to the vault - waited among the shadows. In suffocating silence they passed through chamber after chamber, passing burnt-out candlesticks and cracked scrolls. Until suddenly, in the middle of the gigantic hall, they saw a small platform. Above it hung a glass crystal the size of a human head - the Eye of the Dragon, which pulsed with golden light. But... another figure was already standing by the dais - a thief dressed in a dark blue cloak, his eyes shining in the gloom. In his hand was a long dagger, the blade pointing towards a magical artefact. The three friends froze, and the echo of their breaths carried through the vaults. What would they do now? Will they dare to approach? Is the thief really who he claims to be? And then, in the shadows behind the artefact, something moved....