The path twisted through the forest, flanked by roots like gnarled fingers and the looming silhouettes of petrified trees. Kael moved in silence, his hand brushing the relic at his chest. The Echoheart pulsed, faint but persistent, guiding him deeper into the untamed stretch of Aurinfall.
Ahead, a gap in the foliage revealed a forgotten shrine. Time had not been kind to it—columns lay toppled and half-swallowed by moss, its altar crumbled into dust. Still, something about the place throbbed with meaning. Kael stepped forward.
The moment his boot touched the moss-covered stone, the Echoheart blazed hot.
A rush of vertigo seized him.
The world bled away.
Flashes of color—red skies, torn earth, lightning shaped like glyphs. A voice, distant but familiar: "He must not awaken." Then silence.
Kael gasped, dropping to one knee. The relic pulsed against his skin like a second heartbeat, now louder, more urgent. He could feel the heat traveling up his arm, veins glowing faintly blue. The sensations grew sharper—his vision too crisp, his hearing too keen. Every creak of the shrine echoed like a shout. The scent of damp stone, old rot, and electric ozone flooded his senses.
What is this? he thought. Is it speaking to me—or changing me?
He blinked, disoriented, and found himself standing before the altar. A sketch of runes glowed faintly beneath a layer of grime. Instinct drove him to reach out, fingertips grazing the etched stone. The Echoheart thrummed in response, and a web of light spread outward.
Behind him, Elira and Tovan broke through the underbrush.
"Kael!" Elira called. "We lost sight of you. Are you alright?"
He turned slowly, eyes still adjusting to the now humming shrine. "It... showed me something. A warning maybe. Or a memory."
Tovan approached warily, eyes on the glowing runes. "The relic's doing that?"
Kael nodded. "I think it's linked to this place."
A groan rumbled from beneath them. The stone beneath their feet shifted, cracking as if stirred by breath. Dust fell in thin cascades.
Elira stepped back. "Something's waking up."
With a thunderous snap, the ground split, revealing a stairwell spiraling down into shadow. Cold air gusted upward—thick with old magic.
Kael's pulse matched the relic's rhythm.
He swallowed. "We go down."
The trio descended into darkness. Torchlight flickered across carved walls etched with murals of celestial battles and relic-bearing warriors. Whispers echoed faintly, not from their lips but from the stones themselves.
Kael paused halfway down. He touched the wall, palm tingling as if the stone knew his touch. The Echoheart pulsed again—faster, harder. It felt like the relic was reaching out, searching.
This place knows the Echoheart, he thought. And it remembers.
At the base, the stair opened into a vast underground hall. Unlike the shrine above, this place was intact—untouched by decay. Pillars supported a vaulted ceiling where runes pulsed with quiet light. In the center stood a dais, and on it, a figure.
Or what remained of one.
A skeleton draped in ancient robes, a rusted circlet around its brow. In its hands, another relic—or a shard of one—dormant and dull.
Kael stepped closer, drawn by unseen threads. He stopped at the base of the dais, heart hammering.
Elira's voice cut through the silence. "Kael, be careful."
He barely heard her. The Echoheart surged—light blazed from his chest, meeting the relic's shard in a burst of resonance. The dais trembled.
And Kael was no longer there.
He stood in a memory not his own.
The robed figure—alive now—stood on the battlefield beneath the same burning sky he'd seen before. Runes screamed across the heavens. A monstrous figure descended with wings of iron. The robed one raised the relic, shouted words of power, and light consumed the world.
Kael staggered back into the present. Sweat drenched him. The Echoheart dimmed slightly, its energy depleted from the vision.
"Kael!" Elira reached him.
He looked at her, pale and trembling. "It's not just power. It's history. A record of what came before."
Tovan knelt beside the bones. "What kind of war needed this much power?"
Kael's voice was low. "The kind that never really ended."
Behind the dais, a gate creaked open. The Echoheart pulsed in Kael's chest, its heat gentle now—but insistent.
More waited beyond.
And Kael knew: the deeper they went, the more the relic would reveal. And the more it would demand.