Chapter 7: Echoes of the Past
Ava's reflection in the ornate mirror rippled, the glow in her eyes pulsing faintly as if her power was alive, responding to the intensity of the vision she had just witnessed. Her breathing quickened. The Keeper's voice still echoed in her mind: Reclaim the throne. Or Eldoria will fall.
The weight of those words settled heavily on her chest. She didn't even know the truth about her origins. Could she truly be tied to Eldoria's throne?
Suddenly, the hall flickered, and the calm around her shattered. The stone walls groaned as if the entire structure was alive. Shelves tilted, spilling ancient tomes onto the floor. The mirror in front of her shimmered, and Ava felt a surge of magic yank her forward.
"No!" she cried out, but it was futile. The force pulled her through the mirror, its surface cold and liquid, like stepping into a frozen river.
When Ava emerged on the other side, she found herself in a place entirely different from the grand hall of the Sylvan Archives. The air was thick with fog, and the ground beneath her feet felt damp and soft. Surrounding her were towering spires of rock, jagged and unwelcoming. The landscape seemed to stretch endlessly, yet everything was unnervingly silent.
"Where am I now?" Ava whispered to herself, the sound of her voice swallowed almost instantly by the heavy mist.
A deep growl broke the silence, making Ava freeze. From the fog, red eyes appeared—hundreds of them. Shapes began to form, grotesque and twisted creatures, their gnarled bodies lit by an eerie green glow.
"No... this can't be real," Ava muttered, her heart pounding.
The creatures stepped closer, their snarls growing louder. Instinctively, Ava raised her hand. To her surprise, the same golden light from earlier flickered to life in her palms, casting a faint glow around her. The creatures recoiled, hissing angrily.
"Stay back!" Ava shouted, her voice trembling. She pushed her hands forward, willing the light to grow stronger.
A brilliant pulse of magic erupted from her, sending the creatures scrambling back into the shadows. Ava collapsed to her knees, the energy draining her strength.
"Impressive, but unsustainable," a familiar voice said behind her.
Ava spun around to see the Keeper standing there, her expression unreadable. "You brought me here!" Ava accused, her voice shaking with anger.
"I did not," the Keeper replied calmly, her silver hair gleaming even in the dim light. "The magic that courses through you brought you here. This is a place between worlds, where truths are revealed to those strong enough to face them."
"What truth?" Ava demanded. "You keep speaking in riddles, but I don't even know who I am or why I'm here!"
The Keeper's gaze softened, and she stepped closer. "The throne of Eldoria was not always a seat of power for those with noble blood. It was once a mantle bestowed upon the chosen—a guardian of balance between magic and the mortal realm."
Ava's breath caught. "Chosen? What does that have to do with me?"
The Keeper waved her hand, and the fog parted, revealing a glowing pool of water. "Look into the pool, child. See the truth of your lineage."
Hesitantly, Ava approached the pool. She peered into its depths, and an image began to form—a young woman with features eerily similar to her own. She wore a golden crown etched with ancient runes, her eyes glowing with the same light Ava had discovered within herself.
"That is your ancestor," the Keeper said. "Queen Althea, the last chosen ruler of Eldoria. She wielded the power of light, just as you do. But when her reign ended, the balance was lost. The throne fell to those who sought power for their own gain."
The image shifted, showing scenes of chaos—wars waged by greedy rulers, forests scorched by forbidden magic, and villages left in ruin. Ava's stomach churned as the vision unfolded, the weight of her connection to this history settling heavily on her.
"But why me?" Ava asked, her voice barely audible.
"Because you are the last descendant of Althea's line," the Keeper said. "The light within you is proof. You are the heir, Ava—the only one who can reclaim the throne and restore balance to Eldoria."
Ava shook her head, backing away from the pool. "I can't… I'm just a girl from a village. I don't know how to rule a kingdom, let alone fight whatever darkness is coming."
The Keeper's expression hardened. "You don't have a choice, child. The darkness has already begun to stir. And it is coming for you."
As if on cue, a deafening roar erupted from the fog. The ground trembled beneath Ava's feet, and the glowing pool darkened, its light snuffed out like a candle in the wind.
The Keeper stepped back, her form beginning to fade. "You must survive, Ava. The fate of Eldoria depends on it."
"Wait! Don't leave me here!" Ava shouted, but the Keeper vanished, leaving her alone as the roar grew louder.
From the shadows emerged a monstrous figure, towering and grotesque, its body writhing with dark energy. Its eyes burned with hatred, locking onto Ava with a predatory hunger.
Ava stumbled backward, her mind racing. The golden light in her palms flickered weakly, but she knew she couldn't summon the strength to fight it off.
The creature lunged, and Ava closed her eyes, bracing for the end. But instead of the crushing blow she expected, a brilliant light engulfed her.
When Ava opened her eyes, she was no longer in the misty expanse. She was back in the Sylvan Archives, lying on the cold stone floor. Her companions surrounded her, their faces etched with relief and confusion.
"Ava! You're back!" Ethan exclaimed, helping her sit up.
"What happened?" Elara asked, her voice sharp with concern.
Ava opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, a loud crash echoed through the hall. The group turned to see the main doors of the Archives splintering as something massive pounded against them.
"They've found us," Jake said, his face pale.
"Who?" Ava asked, fear creeping into her voice.
Ethan's expression darkened. "The Shadowborn. They're here for you."
The doors groaned under the relentless assault, and the room seemed to dim as a malevolent presence filled the air. Ava felt her magic stir, but she was still too weak to wield it fully.
"What do we do?" Elara asked, her dagger already drawn.
Ethan turned to Ava, his eyes fierce. "You've seen the truth, haven't you? You know what's at stake."
Ava nodded, swallowing hard.
"Then you need to run," Ethan said.
"No," Ava protested. "I'm not leaving you all behind."
"You have to," Jake said, his voice firm. "We'll hold them off as long as we can. You're the key to all of this, Ava. If they take you, it's over."
Tears pricked Ava's eyes, but she knew they were right. She stood, her legs shaky but determined.
The doors splintered further, and a clawed hand reached through the gap, its talons scraping against the stone.
"Go!" Ethan shouted.
Ava turned and ran deeper into the Archives, her heart pounding. As she disappeared into the shadows, the sound of the doors finally giving way echoed behind her, followed by the clash of steel and the roar of the Shadowborn.
Her friends' cries of defiance rang in her ears as she fled, her mind consumed by a single thought: I will come back for them.
But as she turned a corner, a cold voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Well, well," it said, smooth and menacing. "The little heir thinks she can run."
Ava froze, her blood turning to ice. From the darkness stepped a man cloaked in shadow, his eyes glowing with an unnatural light.
"You've been causing quite the stir, haven't you?" he said, a sinister smile curling his lips. "It's time we put an end to this game."
Ava backed away, her magic sparking weakly in her hands as the man advanced. His power was overwhelming, suffocating. For the first time, she truly felt the weight of the impossible task before her.
And she knew—this was only the beginning.