Chapter 11: Shadows of the Past
The corridor ahead stretched into darkness, the soft glow of the runes on the walls the only source of light. Each step they took seemed to echo unnaturally in the silence, as though the tower itself were listening, waiting. Azaymos, Nox, and Rex moved cautiously, their eyes scanning the path ahead, but there was an unmistakable tension building in the air.
For a moment, no one spoke. They were united by the bond they shared, the power that flowed between them, but as they ventured deeper, they could feel something shift around them. The air became heavier, as though the tower was pressing down on their thoughts, forcing memories to the surface.
Azaymos stopped suddenly, his eyes narrowing. "Do you feel that?"
Nox, her shadows flickering around her, nodded. "Something's wrong."
Rex sniffed the air, his senses sharp in his werewolf form. "It's like... the air's thicker. Smells like blood, but... old. Faint."
Without warning, the walls around them shimmered. The runes on the walls pulsed with a soft, rhythmic glow, and the stone beneath their feet trembled. The entire chamber seemed to ripple like the surface of water, distorting reality around them.
And then, it happened.
A flash—a sudden, overwhelming burst of light that blinded them for a moment. When their vision cleared, they were no longer standing in the same corridor. Instead, each of them found themselves in a different place entirely, alone.
---
Nox's Trial
Nox blinked, her surroundings unfamiliar and unnerving. She was no longer in the tower, but deep within a forest, the trees towering over her, their branches twisted and dark. The air smelled of damp earth and decay, and the faint rustle of leaves echoed in the distance.
She recognized this place. It was from her past.
The shadows around her flickered, and from the corner of her eye, she saw movement. A figure darted through the trees, silent and swift. Nox's breath caught in her throat as she caught a glimpse of the figure—an archer, her bow drawn, eyes sharp and focused.
The girl.
Nox had seen her before. She had helped Nox in the past, though the details were hazy. She couldn't quite place the time or the reason, but the memory was there, buried deep.
The girl vanished into the trees, and Nox's heart raced. There was more to this memory, she knew it. But before she could move, a sound behind her froze her in place.
A scream. A familiar scream.
Nox spun around, her eyes widening. She was no longer in the forest. The scene had shifted again, and she was now standing in the center of a darkened room, surrounded by the bodies of her friends—vampires she had grown up with, trained with. They lay still, their eyes lifeless, blood pooling beneath them.
And there, in the center of the room, stood a figure cloaked in black, her face obscured by the shadows. The girl in the black robe.
Nox's breath hitched. She had seen her before—during the final test to become one of the elite vampires. The black-robed girl had appeared out of nowhere, killing everyone around her. Nox had been the only one left alive.
The figure in the black robe turned toward her, and though her face was hidden, Nox felt the weight of her gaze—cold, unfeeling.
"You survived," the figure said, her voice soft but piercing. "But why?"
Before Nox could respond, the world shifted again, the vision fading, leaving her standing alone in the tower once more, her heart pounding.
---
Rex's Trial
Rex found himself back in his childhood village, the familiar sights and smells tugging at memories he had long buried. The thatched roofs, the dirt roads, the sound of children laughing in the distance—it was all so vivid.
He was standing outside a small house, the scent of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. He knew this place well. It was where the old woman lived, the one who had helped him during the hardest times.
As he approached the door, it creaked open, and there she was—the old woman, her face wrinkled but warm, a soft smile playing on her lips.
"Come in, Rex," she said, her voice gentle. "You must be hungry."
Rex hesitated, his mind racing. He hadn't thought about her in years, but she had been there for him when no one else was. She had given him food, advice, a kind word when the world seemed to be against him.
He stepped inside, the smell of food stronger now, comforting. The old woman handed him a small loaf of bread, the same bread she had always made for him.
"Take this," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It'll keep you safe."
Rex blinked, and suddenly, the scene shifted. He was no longer in the house, but back in the arena, the place where the werewolves were tested to find the next hero. He remembered this day clearly—the day the black-robed girl had appeared.
He saw her again now, standing on the edge of the arena, watching as the other candidates fell one by one. They didn't stand a chance. Rex had survived only because of the necklace the old woman had given him—the necklace that had been destroyed in the process.
The black-robed girl's eyes flickered toward him, her presence chilling. She said nothing, but her gaze held a question he couldn't answer.
Why had he survived?
---
Azaymos's Trial
Azaymos stood frozen as the scene around him unfolded. He was no longer in the tower, but in a dimly lit room, the air thick with tension. He knew this place. It was the room where his children had been taken.
He watched, helpless, as the scene played out before him—his children being dragged away by shadowy figures, their cries echoing in his ears. He had tried to save them, but he had been too late. They had disappeared, leaving behind nothing. No trace, no ashes, nothing.
He clenched his fists, the weight of his failure pressing down on him. He had spent years searching for answers, but the memory of that day haunted him, a reminder of what he had lost.
As the vision faded, Azaymos found himself back in the tower, his heart heavy with the burden of his past.
---
End of Chapter 11