Chapter Fourteen: Echoes Beneath the Spire
The night sky over Noctera bled crimson.
Lightning crackled in silence above the Hollow Spire, as if the tower itself was remembering.
Kain and Eira stood before its sealed entrance—an arch of obsidian covered in etchings only Eira could read.
"This place," she whispered, "is older than the thrones. Older than the war."
"Then why was it built?" Kain asked.
"To bury something..." Her fingers brushed the runes. "...or someone."
The symbols flared.
A sound like grinding stone echoed from deep within the earth. The gate opened slowly, revealing black steps that spiraled downward—far deeper than any tower should go.
They descended in silence.
Torchlight flickered against murals on the walls—scenes of kings battling beasts with no names, thrones shattering, skies falling.
But always, two figures remained:
One with fire in his chest.
One with ice in her eyes.
"This is us," Eira whispered. "This always was us."
Below, the chamber waited.
Massive. Circular. Empty—except for a pedestal at its center, holding a shard of crystal that pulsed like a living heart.
Kain stepped forward, drawn without understanding.
"Careful!" Eira warned, too late.
The moment his hand touched the crystal, the room convulsed.
The walls shifted.
Symbols ignited.
And from the shadows, voices rose:
"Two hearts awaken..."
"The cycle begins again..."
"Who will fall this time?"
Eira screamed as something clawed out of the crystal—an echo of a man, wrapped in smoke and armor made of regret.
It raised its blade.
And Kain met it with fire.