Chapter 9
The Ruins of Set
As the hours passed, the sky slowly darkened into a velvety black, the stars peeking through the scattered layers of clouds like tiny, winking diamonds. Alron and Freya continued their trek in silence, the only sound being the soft crunch of their footsteps on the parched earth and snow. As they traversed the darkened landscape, they could feel the eerie stillness in the air, broken only by the occasional rustle of dry leaves stirring in the night breeze. Set's ruins loomed in the distance, a dark silhouette against the starry sky. The atmosphere grew more ominous as they drew closer to the ruins. The air felt heavy, almost foreboding. The shadows cast by the crumbling structures seemed to shift and stir, playing tricks with their eyes. Alron glanced at Freya, his eyes meeting hers. He studied her face, trying to gauge her mood and emotions at that moment. Her expression was stoic, determined, but he could sense a hint of fear behind her steely exterior.
Alron's voice broke the silence, his tone reassuring and gentle. "Hey, it will be okay," he said, his words a soothing balm against the chill of doubt. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, his touch a silent promise of comfort and support. Freya didn't respond immediately, her gaze fixed ahead at the looming silhouette of Set's ruins. But Alron noticed the slight shift in her shoulders as she relaxed a touch under his grasp. She didn't need to say anything, for his presence and words alone had reassured her. They continued walking in silence, their breaths visible in the cool night air. The ruined structures loomed ever closer, their crumbling stonework casting long, ominous shadows in the moonlight. Alron reached out to take Freya's hand without a word, their fingers intertwining in a silent vow of mutual support. As their fingers interlocked, Alron could feel the slight tremble of Freya's hand, the cold night air causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, silently telling her that he was there with her, no matter what awaited them inside the ruins.
As the two ventured deeper into the ruins, the extent of the destruction became more apparent. The once majestic stones were now worn and weatherworn beyond recognition. The crumbling temple, dedicated to a long-forgotten primordial deity, stood silent and desolate, bearing the scars of countless generations of neglect and decay. Broken pillars loomed out of the darkness like skeletal fingers, reaching up towards the night sky in a mute testament to the power and glory of the past. The faint scent of dust and age clung to the air, mingling with the crisp night air like an elusive ghost from another age. Alron and Freya cautiously made their way through the winding paths, their footsteps echoing softly in the silent night. The silence was oppressive, weighing down on them like a heavy blanket. Save for the occasional hoot of an owl, there was no sound other than the soft whisper of the breeze stirring through the ruined remains.
They ventured further into the vast open space that would have once been the main courtyard of the temple. The once imposing walls, now mere fragments, stood like broken sentinels in the night, their stone surface ravaged by centuries of weather and neglect. The open sky above them felt infinite, the stars and scattered clouds adding a stark contrast to the ruined grandeur of their surroundings. Alron's gaze roamed from the broken stones to the night sky above. The vastness of the space was both awe-inspiring and unsettling, the sheer scale of the ruin a chilling reminder of the impermanence of all things. He could feel the weight of countless years pressing down on them, the silence almost tangible in its intensity. As they walked further, a sense of familiarity started to wash over Alron. The broken stones, the dusty air, the vast open space - it all took him back to his childhood days when he would come to play in the temple ruins. But there was an uneasiness that underlaid the familiarity, a lingering feeling of wrongness hanging in the air like a specter.
As Alron observed their surroundings more closely, a vague memory resurfaced in his mind - fragments of the ruins bathed in a dim, almost eerie, dark green light that seemed to emanate from the central part of the temple. However, as he looked around now, the central area seemed to be conspicuously devoid of any such glow, leaving the space in near total darkness. Alron's voice was barely above a whisper, but the urgency and concern in his tone carried clear to Freya. "Something is wrong," he muttered, his eyes sweeping across the darkened landscape as if searching for something he could not name. Freya gripped Alron's hand tightly as they talked in hushed tones, her eyes betraying a hint of anxiety. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice betraying her rising fear. "What's wrong?" Alron noticed the anxious look on Freya's face as she squeezed his hand, her fear mirroring his own uneasiness. He looked back at her, his expression grave. "Remember, there used to be a dim, green light," he explained, gesturing vaguely towards the central area of the temple, "coming from the center. This darkness is not normal." Freya's eyes widened slightly as she followed Alron's gesture towards the central area of the ruined temple. He was right - the absence of any light, no matter how faint, was conspicuous and deeply unsettling. She nodded, her grip on Alron's hand tightening slightly more.
They both stood frozen momentarily, their eyes darting around the darkness as if expecting something to jump out at them. The silence was broken only by the soft sounds of their breathing, shallow with a mixture of dread and anticipation. In the near blackness, Alron and Freya stood rooted to the spot, their bodies tense and their senses hyper-alert. The silence was oppressive, the thick air almost suffocating. The absence of light made their surroundings seem both infinite and claustrophobic at the same time, the shadows dancing and shifting around them in an eerily silent danse macabre.
Alron's voice broke the tense silence, his tone casual and conversational, a deliberate attempt to lighten the mood. "Any idea what kind of deity this temple could've belonged to?" he asked, his eyes studying the broken stones as if trying to discern some faint hint of the past. Freya shook her head slightly, looking around the ruins as if the shadows themselves might hold the answer to Alron's query. "No," she replied quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've heard stories, tales passed down through the generations, but no one seems to know for sure." Alron directed the question at Freya, genuine curiosity piqued by her mention of the stories she had heard. "What are these tales?" he asked, hoping to glean any morsels of information from her that might shed light on the eerie atmosphere of the ruined temple. Freya's voice took on a somber tone as she related the tales from her parents. "According to them, there was a discussion, war or a game between the gods at the beginning of creation. The gods who won got to make the world, but in return, they had to be the ones to hold it together." There was a small pause as Alron absorbed the information, his mind racing to find significance in the ancient legend. "So they won," he murmured, more to himself than to Freya, "and thus, were responsible for maintaining creation." Alron's brow furrowed in thought as he wrestled with the implications of the myth. "So this temple would be dedicated to one of those winning gods...?" he asked, the question hanging in the air like a tangible thing. "But if those gods were responsible for holding creation together, then who do we pray to now? Who are they?"
Freya's attempt to inject some humor into the situation fell flat as the reminder of her loss hung heavy between them. Her voice was tinged with a hint of sadness as she replied, "I don't know… my parents died, remember?" Alron attempted to match Freya's dark humor, his tone dry and half-hearted. "Well, at least you have me," he said dryly, the words carrying an unintentionally morbid weight in the darkness. A small silence fell between them, the weight of their words palpable in the stillness. Alron felt a pang of guilt for his clumsy attempt at humor, the gravity of their situation making any lightheartedness feel sorely out of place. He glanced at Freya, her face half-hidden in the shadows, the quiet despair in her eyes clear as day. "Sorry," he said quietly, his voice filled with genuine remorse, "Bad joke." Despite the somber mood, Freya managed a small chuckle, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "Don't worry," she said softly, "I know you didn't mean any harm. I'm not hurt."
Freya's mood seemed to lighten a fraction as she glanced towards the broken stones, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. She steered the conversation towards the missing runes and the amulet. "The glowing runes are gone," she observed. "What about the amulet?" Alron reached into his pockets, his fingers dancing deftly in the darkness, searching for the amulet. A moment later, he retrieved it, the cool, porous surface of the bone sending a slight shiver down his spine. His fingers instinctively closed around the object, the familiar weight of it in his palm bringing a small sense of reassurance. Alron held the amulet up, his eyes widening in surprise as a strange, dim green light began to emit from the bone. The faint glow cast an eerie aura around them both, the light illuminating the immediate surroundings and adding an surreal ambiance to the ruined temple.
Alron fell silent, his mind preoccupied as he subconsciously began moving towards the center of the ruined temple. There was an almost magnetic pull drawing him to the spot where the runes once glowed with a vibrant dark green light. Freya, sensing his focus, followed close behind, her footsteps soft on the dusty terrain. As Alron continued his purposeful stride towards the center, the runes on the amulet began to pulse brighter with every step. The faint glow intensified, its light growing stronger with the proximity to the ruins' core, until it bathed the area around them in a soft, eerie green light. Alron felt a strange mix of fascination and unease at the spectacle, a sense of the supernatural lurking in the shadows of his mind. Freya walked beside him, her eyes fixed on the amulet in his hand, transfixed by the increasing glow. She seemed torn between wonder and fear, caught between the beauty of the display and the mystery of what it might mean.
The light continued to grow, the runes on the amulet now giving off a steady, luminescent glow in the inky darkness. It cast strange shadows on the broken stones, giving life to the otherwise lifeless ruins. Alron turned his head towards Freya, breaking the mutual silence that had settled between them. His voice was low and steady, carrying a mix of anticipation and concern. "Freya..." he spoke, the word hanging in the air like a question. Alron's voice cut through the heavy silence, drawing Freya's attention away from the hypnotic glow of the amulet. She turned towards him, her eyes meeting his, waiting for him to speak. "Yes?" she replied, her voice a mere whisper, barely audible above the gentle hum of the runes. "I know what it is," Alron said, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and understanding. He held the amulet in his left hand, its glow now strong and steady. With his right hand, he extended it towards Freya, an invitation for her to take hold of what he was about to reveal.
Freya took Alron's proffered hand, her fingers wrapping around his in a firm grip. She moved closer, curiosity and trust evident in her eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice a mix of eagerness and uncertainty. She looked at Alron, awaiting his answer as if searching for some hidden truth. "It's time," whispered Alron, his voice filled with both awe and anticipation. He smiled, his eyes meeting hers with conviction. "It's time magic, Frey. We can heal your uncle." Alron pulled Freya close, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. They stumbled together towards the broken stone slabs that formed the center of the ruined temple, using them as support as they moved.
The amulet glowed brighter, its light reaching out to illuminate the area around them. The air felt charged with a strange energy, the very atmosphere crackling with magical potential.
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