Chapter 7: The Temple of Echo
The mountains turned cold again as Ajay and Kael ascended the final path leading to the Temple of Echo—a forgotten place high above the clouds, carved into the spine of the world. This was no temple of worship; it was a tomb of memory. The last trial awaited.
They walked in silence. The scroll Kael had received earlier weighed heavier than the wind at their backs. Ajay hadn't spoken since hearing the truth.
His uncle.
The only family left after Diya's accident. The man who raised him without warmth but provided shelter. Who looked him in the eye after his sister's accident and muttered, "She'll survive. Just study hard."
That same man—now revealed to be in contact with the Crimson Order, the very force that murdered his mother and hunted his father.
The path narrowed until it ended in a narrow ledge. Before them stood the Temple of Echo, ancient and vast, made of white stone threaded with gold veins. Cracked pillars leaned outward like broken teeth, and between them, dozens of open archways looked out onto the void.
"This place was built by the first vampire-dragon hybrids," Kael explained, "before they were hunted into extinction. The temple holds their voices… their regrets… and their warnings."
Ajay stared at the entrance.
"So I walk in alone?"
"Yes."
"What happens if I fail?"
Kael didn't answer.
Ajay entered.
The world changed instantly.
There was no floor, no walls. He was floating in blackness, a silver thread beneath his feet like a tightrope made of moonlight. Echoes drifted in all directions—fragments of words, weeping, screams, laughter. The memories of those who came before.
He took a step.
The darkness around him shimmered, and suddenly he stood in his childhood bedroom—tiny, dusty, walls cracked with time. Diya's voice called from the other room, "Ajay, food's ready!"
Ajay smiled—but something was wrong. He tried to move toward the door, but it remained far. No matter how fast he ran, he couldn't reach it.
He stopped and turned.
And there he saw himself—a younger Ajay, sobbing on the floor.
"I was never enough," the younger version whispered. "No one ever wanted me."
Ajay knelt. "That's not true. Diya loved you. She still does."
"She was all we had."
"She still is."
The younger Ajay looked up, tears in his eyes. "Then why couldn't I protect her?"
A mirror shattered in the background. The light shifted—and now he stood in the car crash that had nearly killed Diya.
Time slowed.
The truck sped forward again. Metal screamed. Ajay relived the moment he got the phone call. The breath leaving his lungs. The hospital bed. The hopeless look in the doctors' eyes.
"You were powerless," said a voice from the dark. "And you hated it."
Ajay clenched his fists. "Yes."
"And you swore you'd never be weak again."
He nodded. "Yes."
The darkness pulsed.
A figure stepped out—cloaked, pale, golden eyes that gleamed like mirrors. It was his mother—not the warrior he'd seen in the vision, but a spirit now, radiant and calm.
"Ajay," she said softly.
He fell to his knees, overwhelmed.
"Mother... is it really you?"
Her hand touched his face. It felt like fire and mist. "Only part of me remains. The rest sleeps among the stars."
He swallowed hard. "Why did you hide the truth?"
"We had to. You were born in a time of war. A child of vampire and dragon blood was a threat to both sides."
"I would've rather known."
"You weren't ready."
She stepped back, and the scene shifted again—to a bloodied battlefield. His father knelt at her side. The moment of her death, again. But this time, Ajay noticed something else: a shadowy figure standing behind a tree, half-hidden.
He moved toward it.
The image sharpened.
It was his uncle.
Watching. Not weeping. Not trying to help.
Smiling.
Ajay's stomach twisted. His breath turned to flame. "He was there?"
"Yes," his mother whispered. "He guided the assassins. The Crimson Order offered him power, position, immunity. All he had to do… was betray us."
"Why?"
"He believed only vampires should rule. He feared the child we were raising. You."
Ajay trembled. "He raised me. He let Diya suffer while he—he knew everything—"
His mother placed a hand on his chest, over the glowing mark.
"You carry the best of both worlds, Ajay. You must not let hatred guide you. You will face him, yes. But not with rage."
"I don't know if I can forgive him."
"You don't have to. Just don't become him."
She began to fade. Her voice softened.
"One more thing. Your powers are not yet whole. There is a secret sealed in your blood. A key. Find the Stone of Origin—the last relic of the true hybrids."
Ajay shouted, "Where is it?!"
But she was gone.
And the temple shattered around him.
Ajay woke up outside the ruins, lying on the cold ground. Kael stood over him.
"You saw them?"
Ajay nodded, tears drying on his cheeks. "My mother. The truth. My uncle… He betrayed everything."
Kael offered a hand and pulled him to his feet.
"What will you do?"
Ajay looked to the horizon, where lightning split the sky. "I'll find the Stone of Origin. I'll unlock my full power. And then…"
He paused.
"…I'll face him."
Kael's voice was quiet. "And if he begs?"
Ajay stared into the distance.
"I won't kill him out of vengeance. But if he stands in the way of peace… I will not hesitate."
From far below the cliffs, the wind carried a sound—faint, almost musical.
A whisper.
"The prince rises… and war follows."