Chapter 29: Whispers Beneath the Iron Trees
The sun had barely risen when Aaren awoke to the distant sound of chiming bells—a sound unlike any natural melody he'd ever heard. It wasn't metallic or melodic, but rather rhythmic, pulsing like the heartbeat of the forest itself. The others stirred as well, eyes heavy with sleep but sharpened by weeks of survival instincts.
"Do you hear that?" Elira whispered, brushing her crimson hair behind her ear as she reached for her dagger.
Kael and Niri both nodded, already preparing their gear. The group had made camp near the Vale of Iron Trees, a peculiar forest where each tree's bark shimmered like forged steel under moonlight. Legends spoke of ancient remnants hidden beneath the roots—machines or relics, no one was sure. But what truly drew them here was a message Aaren received from the mark on his hand just two nights before: "Where the forest hums, truth slumbers beneath."
They packed quickly and ventured into the woods, the strange ringing growing louder as they walked. Thick mist clung to the ground, swirling around their ankles with every step. It wasn't long before they reached a clearing where the trees formed a perfect circle, their trunks so tightly knit they seemed to guard what lay within.
In the center stood a massive stone, etched with symbols they had only seen once before—in the underground chamber of the Whispering Temple.
"These markings," Kael muttered, crouching beside the stone. "They're... similar. But these seem older. Faded. Like they've been rewritten."
Aaren stepped forward, placing his hand against the cold surface. The mark on his hand pulsed warmly, and the stone responded with a low hum. The earth beneath them trembled gently, then split open to reveal a spiral staircase descending into darkness.
Niri lit a torch, and the four descended cautiously, each step echoing with eerie finality. The walls of the tunnel were lined with crystalline roots that glowed faintly blue, casting ghostly light around them.
At the bottom was a massive chamber, filled with rows of hollow pedestals and ancient machines—most broken beyond recognition. In the center stood a single pedestal still intact, atop it a small sphere pulsating with the same light as their marks.
"What is it?" Elira asked.
Aaren reached for it, and the moment his fingers touched the sphere, images flashed across their minds. A great war. Cities swallowed by light. A cloaked figure standing before a burning sky. And then—0169, glowing atop a monolithic tower. A whisper echoed in their heads:
"The echoes of time are not bound by history. What was lost is merely waiting to be found again."
The vision ended, and silence fell.
They all stood stunned. Kael was the first to speak. "That tower... I saw it before. In a dream, days before we were teleported here. But I thought it was just my mind playing tricks."
"No," Niri said. "It's real. And it's tied to all of us."
As they left the chamber, the forest felt quieter—as though it had acknowledged their discovery.
Later that night, around the fire, Aaren held the sphere in his hand. The mark on his palm seemed different now—more defined, as though the lines had rearranged themselves.
"We're not just here to survive anymore," he said quietly. "We're here to uncover everything. And stop whatever tried to destroy this world once before."
Elira looked at him, firelight dancing in her eyes. "Then let's make sure this time... it ends differently."
—