Lyrius's Descent
Lyrius fell through darkness.
The sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It wasn't a simple fall—no violent rush, no sense of impact—but an endless descent into an unknown, quiet void. His body seemed weightless, as though the very air around him was made of nothingness.
The torch he had been holding flickered out in midair, leaving him in utter darkness. There was no sound, no motion, only the strange sense of being drawn into a place far removed from the world he knew.
And then, just as swiftly as it had begun, his feet touched solid ground. He staggered slightly but managed to regain his balance. As his senses adjusted to the sudden shift, he found himself standing in a narrow, stone corridor. The walls were slick with moisture, ancient and weathered, as if the passageway had been untouched for centuries. Pale, unnatural light leaked from cracks in the stone, casting an eerie glow that illuminated the path before him.
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and rust, an odor that seemed to come from deep within the bones of the world itself.
His hand instinctively went to his dagger, but something stopped him. His gauntlet—the ancient artifact embedded into his left arm—was pulsing, radiating a faint warmth. He could feel its power now, as though it were calling to him, urging him onward.
A faint whisper echoed through the corridor, so quiet it might have been a trick of the mind. Or was it?
"Truth walks with lies. Do you?"
The voice was like the rustle of leaves in the wind, distant and elusive. Lyrius clenched his fists. The gauntlet pulsed again, stronger this time, and the whispers grew louder. The air around him seemed to hum with an unnatural energy, drawing him deeper into the darkness.
Without thinking, he moved forward, the gauntlet guiding him like a beacon in the night. He had to see this through. Whatever the Hall was, whatever secrets it held, he would uncover them.
A Warning in Stoneveil
Back in the village of Stoneveil, Elira awoke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. The familiar sounds of the village were absent. There were no children playing, no chatter from the market stalls. Only the unsettling silence that stretched over the land like a heavy, oppressive blanket.
She sat up, the cool morning air brushing against her skin. She looked around, but Lyrius was nowhere to be found.
His absence was unsettling, as if the very earth beneath her had shifted without warning. The mist that clung to the village seemed thicker now, swirling unnaturally around the trees and buildings, as though it too was holding its breath.
"Elira?" Kael's voice broke through the stillness, and Elira turned to find him standing in the doorway of the small hut, his face grim.
"He's gone," she whispered, her voice tight with worry. "He left without a word."
Kael stepped into the room, his brow furrowed. "This doesn't feel right. Something's wrong."
Before she could respond, Nara appeared in the doorway, her presence as quiet and unsettling as ever. Her eyes met Elira's, and then Kael's. There was no greeting, no explanation—only the heavy weight of her silence.
"Do you feel it?" Nara asked, her voice low.
Kael stiffened. "Feel what?"
"The disturbance," Nara replied, her gaze distant, almost unfocused. "It has begun."
Elira's stomach twisted. "What has?"
"The awakening of the Seals," Nara answered, her voice heavy with meaning. "Lyrius has crossed the threshold."
In the Hall of Shadows
Lyrius moved cautiously through the dark corridor, the pale light from his gauntlet flickering as if it were struggling to illuminate the way ahead. His breath came in quiet, steady bursts, each step a careful measure. The whispers still echoed in the back of his mind, but he pushed them aside, focusing on the path in front of him.
The air around him grew colder, the chill biting into his skin as he moved deeper into the underground labyrinth. The walls of the corridor seemed to close in, the passage narrowing as he went further. He could feel the weight of something ancient pressing down on him, the very stones beneath his feet holding secrets long buried.
As he rounded a corner, the corridor opened into a massive chamber. The ceiling stretched far above him, lost in shadow, and the walls were lined with towering stone pillars, each one carved with intricate patterns and symbols. The floor was slick with age, covered in a thin layer of moss and dampness, and in the center of the room stood an altar, bathed in a pale, ethereal light.
But it wasn't the altar that caught his attention—it was the mirror.
Set against the far wall of the chamber was a massive, ancient mirror. Its frame was ornate, covered in carvings that matched those on the pillars. The mirror's surface was not the smooth, reflective surface Lyrius expected. Instead, it seemed to ripple, like water disturbed by an unseen hand.
A deep, resonant voice filled the chamber, vibrating through the very air around him.
"Come closer."
The voice was both familiar and foreign, as if it had echoed through his mind before. Despite the unease that crept up his spine, Lyrius stepped forward, drawn toward the mirror. As he approached, the mirror rippled again, and his own reflection began to form on its surface.
But the reflection that stared back at him wasn't his own. It was a twisted version—darker, colder, with eyes full of regret and pain. The figure in the mirror stepped forward, its movements mirroring his own.
"You seek the truth," the reflection spoke, its voice cold and mocking. "But truth is not a gift, Lyrius. It is a burden. A weight you cannot bear."
Lyrius took a step back, his heart pounding. "This… this isn't me."
The reflection smiled, a cruel, twisted grin that sent a shiver down his spine. "Oh, but it is," it said. "You are me, and I am you. The man you fear to become."
Without warning, the mirror shattered. The world around him trembled, and shards of glass flew through the air, cutting into his skin. He raised his arm instinctively, and the gauntlet flared to life, the energy pulsing as if it were alive.
The reflection screamed, its form dissipating into the air like smoke, leaving only the shattered remains of the mirror behind.
Lyrius stood in the center of the chamber, his breath ragged, his heart racing. He had confronted his darkest self, but the battle was far from over.
The Village's Reckoning
Back in the village, Elira and Kael stood at the edge of the fissure that had opened in the earth, a deep crack that ran through Stoneveil like a wound. The ground was trembling beneath their feet, the air thick with a strange, ominous energy.
"What's happening?" Elira whispered, her voice trembling with fear. "Where is Lyrius?"
Kael scanned the fissure, his eyes narrowing as he examined the glowing symbols that now covered the ground. "I don't know. But I think we're about to find out."
Nara's voice cut through the tension. "You must go to him. The Hall has awakened. He is not alone."
The words hung in the air like a warning. Elira and Kael exchanged a look before rushing toward the fissure. They didn't know what they would find, but one thing was certain—Lyrius's journey was far from over.
End of Chapter 15