The group pressed onward through the dark forest, their path illuminated by the faint glow of Edward's magic. The air still carried a heavy, oppressive weight, though the immediate threat had passed. Each step felt heavier, as though the forest itself resisted their progress, but Aran kept his focus sharp. There was no room for complacency now.
Lyssa broke the silence as they moved, her voice low. "That was close back there. Too close."
Aran nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted in the battle with the shadows. The Void was far more intelligent and powerful than they had anticipated. This wasn't just a force of destruction—it was playing a game, and they were pawns on its board.
Edward, still looking pale from the exertion, glanced over at Aran. "We've bought ourselves time, but we need to be faster. The Void's influence is spreading faster than I thought."
Seraphina, ever the strategist, fell into step beside Aran. "It's not just the Void. Something about these anchors feels...wrong. As though they weren't meant to hold back this kind of power."
Aran frowned. "What do you mean?"
"The obelisks were likely created for something else entirely. They weren't designed to deal with the Void. It feels like we're forcing a solution to a problem we don't fully understand."
Her words hit home. Aran had felt the same unease but had been unable to articulate it. Now, as they trekked deeper into the forest, he realized that their mission might not be as simple as locating and activating the anchors. They needed to understand the origins of this power—where it came from, and why it existed in the first place.
Suddenly, a strange sensation rippled through the air. It was subtle at first, like a shift in the wind, but then it grew stronger, almost tangible. Aran stopped in his tracks, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword.
"Do you feel that?" he asked, his eyes scanning the area.
The others halted, their senses sharpening as they too noticed the change.
"It's like...a memory," Edward said softly, his brow furrowed. "But not ours. The forest is...remembering something."
Aran's heart skipped a beat. He had heard of ancient places carrying the echoes of past events, but experiencing it firsthand was unsettling. The very ground beneath them seemed to hum with energy, as though something long dormant was stirring.
Without warning, the landscape around them began to shift. The trees, once twisted and dark, shimmered as if covered in mist. The oppressive weight of the forest faded, replaced by a strange lightness. In the blink of an eye, they were no longer in the shadowed wilderness but standing in what appeared to be an ancient city.
Tall spires of marble rose around them, gleaming in the sunlight. The streets were lined with statues of forgotten kings and warriors, their faces stern and proud. People moved about, their robes flowing in the breeze, oblivious to the intruders in their midst.
"What...what is this?" Lyssa whispered, her eyes wide with awe and confusion.
"We're seeing a memory," Edward said, his voice barely above a whisper. "This city...it must have been here, long ago, before the forest consumed it."
Aran moved cautiously through the streets, his senses heightened. This was no ordinary vision. The detail was too vivid, too real. He could smell the faint scent of flowers on the air, hear the distant murmur of conversations and the clatter of footsteps on stone. This city had been alive once, thriving.
Seraphina knelt by a fountain in the center of the square, her hand dipping into the water. "It's warm," she said, astonished. "Everything feels...alive."
"Because it was," Edward said, his gaze fixed on the tallest tower in the distance. "This place...it's tied to the anchors. The magic that built this city is the same magic that powers them."
Aran's mind raced. If this city had been responsible for creating the anchors, then it held the answers they sought. But there was something else nagging at him, a sense of unease that had been growing ever since they entered the memory.
"Look," Lyssa said suddenly, pointing to the far end of the square.
A figure stood there, watching them. Unlike the other inhabitants of the city, this one seemed aware of their presence. The figure was draped in long, flowing robes, and a hood obscured their face. Slowly, they began to approach, their movements deliberate and measured.
Aran tensed, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. "Stay on guard."
The figure stopped a few feet away from them, lifting a hand in greeting. When they spoke, their voice was low and ancient, filled with the weight of countless years. "You do not belong here."
Aran stepped forward, his gaze steady. "We're here to stop the Void."
The figure tilted their head slightly, as though considering his words. "The Void is inevitable. It is the end of all things."
"That doesn't mean we'll let it consume everything," Seraphina shot back, her eyes narrowing.
The figure's hood shifted, and though they couldn't see the face beneath, Aran could feel the weight of their gaze. "You are not the first to think this way. Many have tried to stop the Void, and all have failed."
"Then why build the anchors?" Edward asked, stepping forward. "Why create a way to fight it?"
The figure was silent for a moment before answering. "The anchors are not meant to stop the Void. They are meant to delay it. To buy time for something greater."
Aran's heart sank. "What do you mean? What greater purpose?"
The figure lifted a hand, pointing toward the distant horizon. "Beyond this world, beyond the Void, there is something more. Something ancient and powerful. The anchors were built to protect it, to keep it hidden until the time was right."
Lyssa stepped forward, her voice urgent. "What is it? What are the anchors hiding?"
The figure's voice grew softer, almost mournful. "A key. A key to the truth of the universe. But beware—once it is found, there is no turning back."
Before they could ask anything more, the figure began to fade, their form dissolving into the mist. The city around them shimmered once more, and in an instant, they were back in the forest, the memory gone as though it had never been.
Aran stood in stunned silence, the weight of what they had just learned settling over him like a heavy cloak. The Void was not the end—it was a doorway. And the anchors were the only thing keeping that doorway closed.
"We need to find the next anchor," Aran said finally, his voice grim. "Before it's too late."