Echoes of the Past
The air inside the ruins was heavy with dust and secrets long buried. Eryndor's hands were still trembling, his mind reeling from the visions forced upon him by the spectral warriors. The warmth of reality felt distant, as though he were straddling the line between two lifetimes—the one he knew, and the one he had forgotten.
Lysara watched him carefully. "You're still pale," she noted. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Eryndor exhaled slowly, steadying himself. "I don't know." It was an honest answer. The weight of what he had seen pressed against his thoughts, but he had no time to process it—not when there was still more to uncover.
The passage ahead stretched into darkness. Strange markings glowed faintly along the walls, shifting as if alive. The further they walked, the more unsettling the air became, thick with an unseen presence.
It was Lysara who spoke first. "Do you feel that?"
Eryndor nodded. It wasn't just the cold or the unnatural silence. Something was watching them.
And then—
A whisper.
A voice, distant yet close, threading through the air like an eerie melody.
"You have returned… at last."
---
The Sealed Chamber
The voice sent a chill through Eryndor's spine. He stopped abruptly, scanning the chamber. "Who's there?"
Silence. Then, a faint pulse of light from the far end of the ruins.
Lysara tensed, dagger in hand. "I don't like this."
Neither did he. But something in him—something old and instinctual—urged him forward.
The light led them to a massive stone door, etched with symbols that seemed to shift as he gazed upon them. At its center was an emblem that felt eerily familiar—a crest worn by the spectral warriors he had fought.
Eryndor lifted a hand, tracing the design. The moment his fingers met the stone, a surge of energy rushed through him. Images flooded his mind—an ancient throne room, a kingdom on the brink of war, a promise whispered in the dark.
And then, a sharp pain.
Eryndor gasped, stumbling back as if burned.
Lysara grabbed his arm. "Eryndor!"
He pressed a hand to his chest, breathing heavily. "I… I think I know what this place is." His voice was strained, yet filled with certainty. "This was a sanctuary. And I… I was here before."
Lysara's brows furrowed. "In your past life?"
He hesitated. "Maybe."
The stone door groaned as it began to shift, ancient mechanisms unlocking at his touch. The whisper returned, clearer this time.
"Come forward… Keeper of the Forgotten."
The title sent a shiver down Eryndor's spine.
The ruins had more than just history hidden within them.
They held answers.
And Eryndor was finally ready to face them.
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End of Chapter 10