The first rays of dawn barely pierced the thick forest canopy, casting the ground in muted shades of gray and gold. Calypsius and Ellara moved carefully now, their earlier urgency replaced by a quiet tension. Neither had spoken much since their narrow escape from the shadows. The weight of Ellara's question still hung between them, unspoken but impossible to ignore.
"You can't keep holding back," Ellara said abruptly, her voice cutting through the morning stillness. She didn't look at him, her eyes scanning the dense woods ahead, but her tone carried an edge. "Whatever's going on with you and that sword, I need to know."
Calypsius hesitated. The truth felt heavy, tangled in his chest. "I don't know how to explain it," he admitted finally. "Valenyr… it's like it's alive. Sometimes I feel like it's speaking to me, trying to pull me toward something. And the worst part is, I don't know if I can resist it."
Ellara stopped in her tracks, turning to face him fully. "That's not something you can keep to yourself, Calypsius. If that sword is tied to the Shrouded Court, if it's connected to whatever power they're trying to unleash, we can't afford for you to lose control."
"I know that," he snapped, the frustration bubbling up before he could stop it. He ran a hand through his hair, his voice softening. "I know. But what am I supposed to do? Throw it away? We both saw what it can do. Without it, we wouldn't have made it this far."
Ellara studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, she turned and continued walking. "No one's asking you to throw it away. But you need to find a way to control it—before it controls you."
Calypsius followed in silence, her words echoing in his mind. Control. The Elders' warning came back to him, sharper now. You must make a choice. Was that what they meant? Choosing to resist the blade's pull, even as it promised power?
The path ahead narrowed, twisting through dense undergrowth and jagged rocks. The forest grew darker again, the sunlight unable to penetrate the thickening canopy. It felt as though they were descending, the air cooler and damp with the scent of moss and earth.
"Do you recognize this?" Ellara asked, her voice low.
Calypsius frowned, glancing around. The trees seemed older here, their gnarled roots curling across the path like skeletal fingers. Something about the place felt wrong, like the air itself was watching them.
"No," he said, though the hairs on the back of his neck prickled with familiarity. "But it feels… I don't know. Different."
Ellara drew her blade again, her movements slow and deliberate. "Stay close. I don't like this."
They pressed on, their steps cautious, until the path opened into a clearing. At its center stood a structure—a crumbling stone archway, weathered and covered in ivy. Symbols were etched into the stone, faintly glowing with a pale blue light.
"What is this place?" Ellara whispered, stepping closer.
Calypsius shook his head, his gaze fixed on the archway. The symbols seemed to hum, their faint glow growing stronger as he approached. A low vibration filled the air, resonating through his chest.
"It's a gate," he said, the words spilling out before he could think.
Ellara shot him a sharp look. "How do you know that?"
"I… don't know," he admitted, though he couldn't tear his eyes away from the archway. The hum grew louder, a voice just out of reach, pulling him closer. Valenyr buzzed at his side, the blade practically vibrating in its sheath.
"Stop," Ellara said, stepping in front of him. She placed a hand on his chest, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Calypsius, this is exactly what I'm talking about. Whatever that thing is, it's trying to draw you in. You need to fight it."
He clenched his fists, the pull of the gate warring with the alarm in Ellara's eyes. She was right—it was pulling him. But why? What was waiting on the other side?
Before he could answer, a sound split the air—a sharp, echoing crack. Both of them turned, weapons drawn, as the shadows at the edge of the clearing began to shift.
"They're here," Ellara said, her voice tight.
The shadows condensed, forming into shapes far more defined than the ones they'd encountered before. There were five this time, each one wielding weapons of their own—jagged, blackened blades that seemed to ripple like smoke.
"You cannot escape us," one of the figures hissed. Its voice was deeper than the others they'd faced, commanding in a way that sent a chill down Calypsius's spine. "The gate calls to you for a reason, Chosen. Step through, and your destiny will be revealed."
Ellara positioned herself between Calypsius and the figures, her stance unwavering. "Not a chance," she said coldly. "You'll have to go through me first."
The figure chuckled, a dark, hollow sound. "As you wish."
The fight erupted with terrifying speed. The figures moved like smoke, their forms shifting and reforming faster than the eye could follow. Ellara darted between them, her blade a blur as she parried and struck. Calypsius unsheathed Valenyr, the sword's glow flaring as it met the shadowy weapons.
The clash was unlike anything they'd faced before. These shadows were stronger, more coordinated, and they fought with a precision that pushed both of them to their limits.
"Calypsius!" Ellara shouted, her voice strained as she fended off two attackers at once. "We can't hold them here! The gate—"
Before she could finish, one of the figures lunged at Calypsius, its blade slashing toward his chest. He brought Valenyr up to block, the impact sending a shockwave through his arms. The force drove him back toward the gate, the symbols glowing brighter with each step.
"You cannot fight destiny," the figure growled, its crimson eyes locking onto his. "Step through, and all will be revealed. Refuse, and you will die here, alone and forgotten."
Calypsius's heart raced. The gate pulsed behind him, its hum now a deafening roar in his ears. Valenyr burned in his grip, its light pulsating in time with the symbols on the archway.
"Calypsius, don't!" Ellara's voice cut through the chaos, desperate and pleading.
But he couldn't ignore the pull any longer. The choice the Elders spoke of—was this it? Was this what he was meant to do?
The shadows closed in, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. Calypsius turned to Ellara, her face etched with fear and determination, and then to the gate, its light blazing now, brighter than the sun.
Make a choice.
With a deep breath, Calypsius stepped forward.