Chapter-7: The Forgetten
Asher and Silas had been walking for hours, the vast plain stretching endlessly before them. The sun had long since set, and the only light came from the stars that twinkled high above. It was a cold, quiet night, the kind that made Asher feel small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
They had left the forest behind, but the feeling that they were being watched hadn't left Asher. If anything, it had grown stronger, more insistent. It was as if the world itself was aware of their presence, tracking their every move. The plain around them was empty, but the silence was heavy with something unspoken, something that pressed down on Asher's chest like a weight.
"Where are we headed?" Asher asked, breaking the silence. His voice sounded small in the vastness around them.
Silas didn't answer immediately. He was staring ahead, his eyes focused on something in the distance that Asher couldn't see.
"We're being drawn somewhere, its like gravity." Silas said finally, his voice thoughtful. "A place where the past and the present intersect."
Asher frowned. "The past?"
Silas nodded.
"There are places in this world where the past lingers, where the events of long ago still echo through time. We're headed to one of those places now."
Asher felt a chill run down his spine. "Why? What's there?"
Silas's expression was unreadable. "Answers. Or perhaps more questions. But either way, it's a path we have to follow."
Asher didn't fully understand, but he trusted Silas. They had come this far together, and he knew that whatever lay ahead, they would face it as they had faced everything else—together.
The plain eventually gave way to a steep canyon, its walls rising high on either side, creating a narrow passage that seemed to stretch on forever. The air was colder here, and the wind howled through the canyon like a living thing, its mournful cries echoing off the stone.
Asher hesitated at the entrance to the canyon, a sense of foreboding settling over him. The canyon felt wrong, as if it didn't belong in the world they knew. There was a darkness here, an ancient presence that seemed to pulse just beneath the surface.
"Are you sure about this?" Asher asked, his voice tinged with doubt.
Silas nodded, his gaze fixed on the path ahead.
"This is where we need to be. The echoes are strongest here."
Asher took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Echoes of what?"
Silas didn't answer immediately. Instead, he began to walk forward, his steps measured and deliberate.
"Of those who came before us. Of the choices they made, and the consequences they faced."
Asher followed him into the canyon, the walls closing in around them as they ventured deeper into the darkness. The path was narrow and uneven, and Asher had to watch his step to avoid stumbling. The wind was louder here, its wails rising and falling like a distant chant.
As they walked, Asher felt a strange sensation—a tingling at the back of his mind, as if something was trying to reach out to him. It was faint, barely noticeable, but it was there, growing stronger with every step.
"Do you feel that?" Asher asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Silas nodded, his expression tense.
"It's the past, trying to make itself known. The canyon is a place where time is thin, where the barriers between then and now are fragile."
Asher shivered, though not from the cold. "What does it want?"
Silas's eyes narrowed as he looked ahead. "To be heard. To be remembered."
As they continued deeper into the canyon, the walls began to change. The stone was no longer smooth and unmarked—carvings began to appear, etched into the rock like scars. They were ancient, worn by time, but the shapes were still recognizable. They depicted figures, scenes of battles long past, and symbols that Asher didn't recognize.
"What are these?" Asher asked, running his fingers over one of the carvings.
Silas glanced at the carvings, his expression dark.
"Remnants of a forgotten era. This canyon was once a place of worship, a place where people came to seek the favor of the gods."
Asher's heart skipped a beat. "The gods?"
Silas nodded slowly.
"Yes. The ones who shaped this world, who watched over it. Their presence lingers here, in the echoes of those who worshiped them."
Asher felt a sense of awe and fear wash over him. "Do you think they're still here? Watching us? Or worser.. Playing with us?"
Silas's gaze was distant, as if he were seeing something beyond the canyon. "Perhaps. Or perhaps they've moved on, leaving only their shadows behind."
Asher wasn't sure what to think. The idea that there were beings out there—gods, watching over the world—was hard to grasp. But the carvings, the presence he felt in the canyon, all pointed to something greater than anything he had imagined.
And as they ventured deeper into the canyon, Asher couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking into a place where the past was still very much alive.
The further they went, the more the canyon seemed to close in around them. The walls were higher now, the carvings more intricate, and the air was thick with an ancient energy that made Asher's skin prickle. The wind had died down, replaced by a heavy silence that pressed on his ears like cotton.
And then, without warning, the silence was broken by a voice.
It was soft, almost a whisper, but it was clear as day in the stillness of the canyon. Asher froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He glanced at Silas, but his mentor was already looking around, his eyes narrowed in concentration.
"Who's there?" Asher called out, his voice echoing off the canyon walls.
There was no immediate answer, but the voice returned, this time a little louder. It was speaking in a language Asher didn't understand, the words flowing like a river, ancient and powerful.
"What is it saying?" Asher asked, his voice trembling.
Silas was silent for a moment, listening intently. Then he shook his head. "It's not speaking to us. It's speaking to the past."
Asher didn't understand, but he could feel the tension in the air, the way the canyon seemed to hum with life. The voice wasn't alone—others joined it, a chorus of whispers that filled the air with a strange, haunting melody.
"They're... praying," Silas said quietly, his eyes distant. "They're praying to the gods."
Asher's heart raced as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. The voices were growing louder, more insistent, and the air around them seemed to shimmer with energy. It was as if the canyon itself was alive, responding to the prayers of the past.
And then, as suddenly as it began, the voices stopped.
The silence that followed was deafening, a heavy weight that settled over them like a blanket. Asher could barely breathe, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for something—anything—to happen.
But nothing did. The canyon was still, the carvings silent and unmoving, as if the moment had never happened.
"What was that?" Asher whispered, his voice shaking.
Silas was silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on the carvings. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost reverent.
"A memory. A fragment of the past, preserved in the stones."
Asher swallowed hard, trying to calm his racing heart. "But why now? Why did we hear it?"
Silas's expression was thoughtful.
"Because we're meant to. The past is trying to reach out to us, to show us something. There's something here, something we need to understand. About someone..or something"
Asher's mind whirled with questions, but he knew that now wasn't the time for answers. There was something more at play here, something ancient and powerful that he couldn't fully comprehend. But whatever it was, he knew that they had to follow it, to see where it led.
The canyon eventually opened up into a small, secluded chamber, hidden away from the rest of the world. The walls were covered in more carvings, more intricate and detailed than any they had seen before. But these carvings were different—where the others had depicted scenes of worship and battle, these showed something else.
The carvings depicted a circle of figures, each holding a different symbol. The symbols were strange, unlike anything Asher had ever seen, and they seemed to glow faintly in the dim light of the chamber.
At the center of the circle was a large, imposing figure, its form shrouded in shadow. The figure held a staff, its tip pointed toward the sky, and at its feet lay a small, delicate object—a key.
Silas stepped forward, his eyes scanning the carvings with a look of deep concentration. "This is it," he said quietly. "This is what we were meant to find."
Asher looked at the carvings, trying to make sense of them. "What is it?"
Silas's gaze was intense, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and fear.
"It's a map. A map to the places where the gods once walked, where their power still lingers."
Asher felt a shiver run down his spine. "You mean... we're supposed to follow it?"
Silas nodded slowly. "Yes. The key, the symbols—they're all clues. Clues to something greater, something that spans beyond this world."
Asher stared at the carvings, his mind racing. The idea that there were places out there where the gods had once walked, places where their power still lingered, was both thrilling and terrifying. And the thought that they were supposed to find these places, to follow the map and unlock the secrets of the past, filled him with a sense of purpose he hadn't felt before.
"But why?" Asher asked, his voice hushed. "Why us?"
Silas's expression was unreadable. "Because we're the ones who can. The ones who must."
Asher felt a sense of determination welling up inside him. Whatever lay ahead, whatever challenges they faced, he knew that they had to see this through. They had to follow the map, to find the places where the gods had once walked, and to uncover the secrets that had been hidden for so long.
And as they stood in the hidden chamber, surrounded by the echoes of the past, Asher knew that their journey had only just begun.
As they left the chamber and made their way back through the canyon, the world around them seemed to take on a new significance. The air was thick with the weight of what they had discovered, and every step felt like a step into the unknown.
The map they had found was a puzzle, a riddle that would take them to places they couldn't yet imagine. But Asher knew that they couldn't turn back now. There was something greater at play, something that connected them to the very fabric of the world—and perhaps even beyond it.
As they emerged from the canyon, the sky above was a deep, rich purple, the first hints of dawn just beginning to break. The world felt new, full of possibilities, and Asher couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at what lay ahead.
But even as the sun began to rise, casting its warm light over the landscape, Asher knew that the path they were on was fraught with danger. The gods were real, their power still lingering in the world, and the map they had found was a key to unlocking that power.
And as they walked into the light of the new day, Asher couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched—not just by the gods, but by something else, something that existed beyond the reach of this world.
The journey ahead would be long, and the challenges they faced would test them in ways they couldn't yet comprehend. But Asher was ready. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it with courage, determination, and the knowledge that they were on the path to something greater than themselves.
And as they continued on their journey, the distant sound of thunder echoed once more, a reminder that the gods—and the answers they sought—were waiting.