Aeon stood still in the Hollow Vale, the mist swirling around him like a living thing, thick and suffocating. His golden eyes burned, locked onto the spot where the shadowed figure had vanished. The silence was deafening, pressing in on him, each breath sharp and heavy. He clenched his fists, feeling the faint burn in his arm again, that cold pulse of power.
The chains.
The strange symbol that marked his skin, etched with links that seemed to glow in the dark, were no longer just an idea. They were real, embedded deep in his body, and the sensation of them wrapped around his very soul was something he couldn't shake off. The figure's words echoed in his mind—You are a key… the chains are a curse… the Vale is bleeding into the world.
What did it all mean?
Aeon glanced down at his arm, the chains flickering as though alive. He instinctively reached for it, the sensation of their presence sharp beneath his fingers, almost as if they were pulling him, urging him forward. He recoiled for a moment, but something inside him—a deep, primal urge—pulled him back. He had no choice.
He had to learn what they were.
He had to understand how to control them—or risk being consumed by them.
The mist around him thickened, curling like smoke, and for the first time, Aeon noticed something strange. The air shimmered faintly, and the ground beneath his boots began to ripple. Time? Was it time warping again? The Vale was alive in ways that defied understanding, and with every breath, Aeon felt himself drawn further into its enigmatic grasp.
The shadows stretched, and with them, a figure emerged. This one was not like the hooded figure who had spoken to him earlier. No, this one was different. A woman. Her presence was striking—an ethereal figure cloaked in tattered robes that seemed to blend with the swirling mist. Her eyes, unlike the shadows that clung to her, were piercing, silver like shards of broken moonlight, watching him with a strange intensity.
She said nothing for a long moment, only staring at him, her gaze unsettling, as if she could see through him, into the very core of his being.
Aeon's heart began to race. He stepped back instinctively, the chains within him flickering again.
"What are you?" he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper, but the words seemed to cut through the stillness of the Vale like a blade.
The woman's lips parted, but she did not speak at once. She took a slow step toward him, her robes flowing around her like water, moving with an unnatural grace. The mist seemed to part in her wake, as if she commanded the Vale itself.
"The Vale is not kind to those who do not understand it," she finally spoke, her voice like the distant hum of a bell, soothing yet laden with something darker beneath. "It twists time, bends reality, and it consumes those who wander too far. You are marked, Aeon Solis. You feel it, don't you? The pull of the chains."
Aeon's breath caught. He didn't answer immediately, his eyes flicking down to his arm, to the glowing chains beneath his skin. The pulsing had increased, growing more insistent. The power inside him seemed to throb, resonating with the woman's words.
"You cannot ignore it forever," she continued. "The chains are not just a mark. They are a curse and a blessing, all in one. You are caught between two worlds now, Aeon. The Vale and your own. And the time you have left in your world is… finite."
He clenched his fists, trying to ignore the way his body ached with the unspoken pressure of her words. "I don't want this. I didn't ask for this."
"None do," the woman said, her voice tinged with a sad understanding. "But this is your fate now, whether you accept it or not. The Vale does not choose its vessels lightly. Only those with the strength to endure the weight of the chains may wield their power. But…" She paused, her silver eyes narrowing. "Even they cannot escape the consequences."
Aeon's stomach twisted, his mind racing. The consequences. What did that mean? What was she warning him about?
Before he could voice his questions, the air around him began to crackle, a low hum vibrating through his bones. The chains within him reacted, pulsing fiercely, as if awakening from a long slumber. He staggered back, the pressure inside him growing unbearable.
The woman stepped forward again, her eyes fixed on him. "You will feel it soon enough. The Vale calls to you now, Aeon. It is time for you to choose."
"Choose what?" he spat, anger flaring in his chest. "What am I supposed to do? I don't even know what this is!"
The woman's face softened, and for the briefest moment, there was something human in her expression—a flicker of empathy, perhaps, or pity. "You have two paths before you, Aeon. One leads to power—the other, to destruction." Her voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "But no path is without sacrifice. You must decide if you are willing to give what the chains demand."
Suddenly, the ground beneath Aeon's feet cracked open, a deep rift splitting the stone, and from it, a wave of shadows poured out, swirling and coiling like living tendrils. His body reacted instinctively, stepping back as the shadows reached for him, tendrils of darkness that sought to pull him into the abyss.
The chains inside him responded, thrumming with power, and in that instant, he understood. He had no choice. The chains were not a gift, nor were they just a curse. They were a tether, pulling him toward something far beyond his comprehension. The Vale, the chains, the power—it was all connected.
He reached out, his hand trembling as the chains within him flared. The shadows recoiled, but the power within him surged, his golden eyes glowing brightly. He commanded the chains, using them to hold the shadows at bay. The chains shot out from his arm, wrapping around the tendrils of darkness and constricting them with an almost inhuman strength.
The woman watched in silence, her gaze unwavering. "You are beginning to understand. But remember, Aeon—power is not without its price. It will demand more from you than you can imagine."
Aeon's heart pounded in his chest as he stood, his arm outstretched, the chains thrumming with energy. He could feel their power growing, building within him.
But it came at a cost.
The shadows continued to fight against him, pulling at his very soul, trying to drag him into the void. The chains were his lifeline, but the more he used them, the more they drained him. His vision blurred, his limbs heavy with the weight of the energy he was forcing out.
He gritted his teeth, fighting against the pull, but it was clear—the chains were both his strength and his curse. And every time he used them, they would claim a piece of him.
The woman's voice cut through the chaos. "Do you feel it now? The price of the chains, the weight of the burden? Time is running out, Aeon. Choose your path before it is too late."
Aeon's golden eyes burned with determination. There was no turning back now. Not after everything he had learned. Not after everything he had felt.
He would face the consequences.
He would fight.