The doors of the mist closed behind Eirik with a dull thud, as if the world itself was shutting him out. The light around him flickered, then went out, leaving only a dark silence.
A feeling of suffocation filled his lungs, as if the air had grown too heavy to breathe. The ground beneath his feet was cold, hard, made of smooth black stone, without cracks or imperfections. The flickering light of a torch placed in a corner dimly illuminated the room he was in.
Around him, shadows danced, distorted figures cast by the play of the wavering light. It was an ancient room, timeless, a structure made of stones cut with an almost supernatural precision.
The walls were adorned with patterns and symbols he did not recognize—patterns that seemed alive, pulsing with an ancient energy, a force that could only be found in the forgotten places of the world.
Eirik stood up, his muscles tense. The sense of unease never left him. Something in this place seemed to watch him, to wait for him, as if the room itself had a will of its own.
Every breath he took felt as though it were granted to him, a fleeting privilege, while the silence pressed heavily on his soul.
He moved forward slowly, his footsteps echoing in the void. Then, at the end of the room, a massive wooden door appeared, dark and imposing, its edges adorned with ancient runes.
The door seemed to call to him, like a mysterious invitation to enter another world. He approached it and placed his hand against the cold wood. At his touch, a strange shiver ran through his body, like a jolt of pure energy passing through him.
When he turned the handle, the door opened with no resistance, creating a deep echo in the silent space. On the other side, there was a vast hall, a circular room with gigantic columns, etched with ancient runes.
The floor was covered in ashes, as if a cataclysm had struck this place, leaving behind a remnant of a world consumed by flames. Remains of what seemed to be ancient sacrifices lay scattered across the floor—broken artifacts, twisted armor, and lost relics.
At the center of the room stood a pedestal, solitary, bearing a large urn of dark metal. The urn was decorated with symbols Eirik did not recognize, but that evoked something ancient, eternal.
It was a sacred urn, likely protected by powers greater than anything he had faced so far. Simply looking at it stirred a deep, instinctive terror within him, as though this urn contained something he was not meant to discover.
He approached the pedestal cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest. A shiver of pure power awakened in the air around him, a palpable energy he could almost touch, as though the room itself was alive. He extended his hand toward the urn, hesitating, feeling the growing pressure of the unknown.
"Do you seek to understand, Eirik?" A voice resonated in the air, soft, but with a cold authority. "Do you seek to know what you are not yet allowed to understand?"
Eirik froze. That voice... He had heard it before. It was the voice of the Shadow, the one he had confronted, that force which sought to mold him in its image, to consume him. He turned sharply, looking for the source of the voice.
But there was nothing. No figure, no movement. Just the ashes stretching out as far as the eye could see.
"I am the memory of the ancients," the voice continued, "I am the past, the shadow of the fallen gods, the truth you seek to flee from."
Eirik swallowed. He could feel the presence of the entity in the room, an immense and elusive force. "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice rising in the silence.
The answer came swiftly, but it did not come from the direction he expected. The ashes on the floor began to stir, rising as if an invisible wave was pushing them.
They formed shapes, indistinct figures, deformed faces. A scream pierced the air, a cry of agony from a time long past.
The ash shapes gathered, solidified, until a dark and immense being took form before him. It was made of ashes and shadows, a colossal creature with arms stretching dozens of meters.
The head, hidden beneath a hood of shadow, was nothing but an empty void, an endless abyss. A chilling aura emanated from the entity, a crushing power that made the very air tremble.
"I am the end and the beginning," the creature declared, its voice reverberating in Eirik's mind. "I am the guardian of the truth you seek, the weight of the past that crushes all that opposes it."
Eirik felt his heart race, fear mixing with a strange fascination. He knew that this creature, this entity, was not just a guardian. It was the embodiment of an ancient power, a force that had spanned the ages, a force that defied all understanding.
He raised his hand, the sacred flame illuminating the room in a burst of pure light. The creature did not move, but an intense wave of pressure seemed to emanate from it, like a freezing wind.
"You want to understand, don't you?" The creature rose, its twisted form warping. "You want to understand what you seek. But all you will find here are ashes. Ashes of the past. The past of fallen kingdoms."
Eirik focused. He had to remain calm. He could not let fear control him. The flame within him grew, heating the air around him. He knew this trial was just another step on his journey, a test of his will, of his inner power.
"What are you?" he asked, his voice challenging the creature.
The creature laughed, a deep laugh, echoing like a funeral bell.
"I am what you cannot flee from, Eirik," it said. "I am the memory of fallen kings, of destroyed gods. And now, I am your final obstacle."
The ashes rose around Eirik, forming relentless waves. Every movement of the ashes seemed like an attack, a will to engulf everything in its path. The waves of ash spread through the air like giant arms, ready to destroy all they touched.
Eirik raised his arms, focusing all the power of the sacred flame in his hands. An explosion of light burst forth, sweeping away the waves of ash.
But with every movement of his flame, the creature retaliated, each attack rising from the ground beneath him, each shadow of the ashes becoming larger and more threatening.
"You cannot defeat me," the creature whispered, its words floating like a suffocating mist. "I am what you cannot control. The past that shapes your destiny."
Eirik closed his eyes, letting the sacred flame pour through him. He knew he had to sacrifice everything, that only the truth, no matter how terrible, could set him free. The flame rose in an intense burst, burning the ash and darkness in an explosion of divine energy.