Chapter 10: The Temple of Echoes
The path to the temple wound through the dense outskirts of the village, the towering trees cloaking the ancient stone steps in shadow. The villagers, having helped Mia and Lee Kung gather supplies, watched them go with expressions torn between reverence and fear. Though the sirens had been vanquished, the village would carry the scars of its haunting for a long time.
Lee Kung led the way, the obsidian sword strapped firmly across his back. The blade hadn't dimmed since it lit up in the village square, its glow now pulsing faintly in rhythm with his heartbeat. Beside him, Mia held her staff tightly, her eyes alert. The path was overgrown in parts, and though no threat had presented itself, the forest still felt too quiet—as if nature itself was holding its breath.
The temple revealed itself slowly, hidden beneath layers of moss and creeping vines. It had been carved directly into the cliffside, with its grand arched entrance framed by statues of forgotten warriors. Erosion and time had worn away most of the details, but the sense of ancient power remained.
"This place… it feels different from the last temple," Mia murmured, brushing her fingers against the cracked stone. "Older. Wilder."
Lee Kung nodded, stepping inside. The air was colder, filled with a faint metallic tang that made the hairs on his neck stand on end. As they walked deeper into the temple, the passage opened up into a wide hall lined with columns carved in the shape of dragons.
That was when the floor beneath Mia's foot sank with a soft click.
"Trap!" she shouted, diving forward just as a wall of spears shot out from either side.
Lee Kung spun, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of range. But the temple wasn't done. A low rumble echoed through the chamber as the stone floor began to shift.
From above, spiked pendulums descended slowly, swinging in calculated arcs. Sharp darts erupted from the ceiling, and sections of the floor began to fall away, revealing spikes far below.
Lee Kung's eyes narrowed. His breath slowed. He wasn't the same scared boy who'd hesitated in the earlier trials.
He moved with confidence, his instincts razor-sharp. Every trap felt like a test of more than reflex—like the temple was gauging something deeper within him. Mia followed close, her faith in him unshakable.
When they reached a narrow bridge suspended over a seemingly endless chasm, Mia hesitated. The stone beneath them trembled with every step, and the shadows below writhed as if alive.
"Don't look down," Lee Kung said, reaching back for her hand. "Just follow my lead."
With precise balance and timing, they crossed, the bridge groaning beneath their weight. As they reached the far side, the final trap triggered—a wave of collapsing columns.
Lee Kung turned, shouting, "Run!"
Together, they sprinted, dodging falling stone until they burst into a new chamber just as the ceiling behind them collapsed.
Gasping for breath, they looked around. The chamber was circular, bathed in an ethereal blue light that radiated from the ceiling. At the center lay a circular pool of water, still as glass. Symbols lined the walls—half ancient script, half pictographs.
It was night now, and the light of the full moon filtered in through a crack above, reflecting in the water.
Exhausted and battered, Lee Kung and Mia decided to rest. They set up a small camp along the edge of the chamber. Mia lit a small fire with some dry moss and flint stones from her pack. The flames danced along the walls, casting warped shadows that looked almost like spirits watching from afar.
As they ate in silence, the moon outside rose higher, its silver glow washing over the temple.
Lee Kung leaned back against the wall, staring at the sword that now lay beside him. "This place… I feel like it was waiting for us."
Mia glanced up at the moon. "Maybe it was. Or maybe it's waiting for her."
She pointed toward a smaller corridor at the far end of the room, one neither of them had explored yet. It was partially blocked by stone, but a faint trail of disturbed dust suggested recent movement.
Lee Kung rose to his feet, curiosity sparked. He approached the corridor, lifting his torch to peer inside. The passage bent sharply to the left, and the air within it was colder still.
That's when the scream came.
It was loud, high-pitched, and filled with raw anguish. The sound seemed to pierce through the stone itself, echoing through the chamber and shaking loose dust from the ceiling.
Mia was on her feet instantly. "What was that?"
Lee Kung drew his sword, the blade now glowing brightly. "We're not alone."
From the shadows of the corridor, a second scream erupted—deeper, more feral. It was a cry of pain, of something resisting… or changing.
Then came the growl.
Low, guttural, and undeniably inhuman.
Mia's eyes widened. "That's her, isn't it?"
Lee Kung didn't answer, but the look on his face said everything.
They stepped closer, the temperature in the chamber dropping even further. Somewhere beyond that corridor, something ancient was awakening.
The moon, now fully round, shone directly through the ceiling's crack, bathing the temple in silvery light. As the howls echoed again, the symbols on the walls began to glow faintly.
Whatever lay ahead, it was tied to this moment.
To this moon.
To her.
Lee Kung tightened his grip on the sword and looked at Mia. "Stay close. This… this is just the beginning."
Together, they stepped toward the corridor, into the dark, where fate—and the half-blood girl—awaited.