The mountain path wound higher into the clouds, but the air was different now—alive, humming faintly with energy. The relic's warmth that once rested on Aric's chest had transformed into a subtle vibration in his veins, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. Every time his foot touched the ground, the earth seemed to respond, a quiet thrum echoing up his legs.
Lira noticed it first. "You're glowing again," she said softly, her wide eyes reflecting faint traces of golden light beneath his skin.
Aric looked down at his hands, flexing them. The faint glimmer faded, leaving only pale scars that traced the shape of flame. "It's not just me," he murmured. "The mountain feels… awake."
Kael glanced toward the clouds. "That's because it is."
They stopped as the mist ahead rippled like disturbed water. From the haze emerged shapes—massive stone statues lining both sides of the path. Each depicted a guardian in armor, half-man, half-beast, clutching weapons forged from long-frozen fire. Some were cracked and broken, their eyes dull. But others still pulsed faintly, veins of molten gold running through their stone bodies.
Lira clutched Aric's arm. "Are they watching us?"
"They're listening," Kael said grimly. "When power returns to this place, so do its sentinels."
As they walked between the towering statues, Aric could feel their gaze like a physical weight. A faint whisper echoed through the air—soft at first, then clear enough to form words.
"The Keeper returns.""The Flame awakens."
Aric froze. His pulse quickened, the golden light flaring in response.
Kael's expression hardened. "Don't react. They're testing your presence. If you show fear or false strength, they'll know."
Aric forced himself to keep walking, though his every instinct screamed that unseen eyes followed each step. When they reached the last statue, the mountain rumbled beneath their feet.
From the mist behind them came the sound of shattering stone.
They turned just in time to see one of the broken statues move. Cracks split across its chest, and molten light poured from within as it rose to its full height. Its face—once a serene mask—twisted into something alive.
Kael stepped forward, spear ready. "Keep behind me."
But the creature didn't attack. It looked straight at Aric and knelt, lowering its massive head.
"Keeper," it rumbled, its voice deep as the mountain itself. "You walk once more upon sacred ground. The fire remembers your touch."
Lira gasped. "It… it knows you."
Aric stepped forward cautiously. "You remember me, but not what I've done?"
The guardian's molten eyes burned brighter. "The Flame remembers all things. The world was reborn, yet its scars remain. You carry both sin and hope within you."
Before Aric could speak again, the ground shook violently. The guardian turned its gaze toward the horizon, where a dark storm was forming—not of clouds, but of shadows.
"They have sensed your awakening," it said. "The Echoes of the Abyss rise again."
Kael swore under his breath. "That can't be good."
The guardian's massive hand opened, revealing a fragment of glowing crystal—a shard pulsing with golden light. "Take this, Keeper. It is a spark of what you once were. You will need it to face what comes."
Aric reached out, and as his fingers brushed the crystal, the world blurred. Power surged through him like a living river, flooding his senses. For a heartbeat, he saw glimpses of countless souls—warriors of light, cities swallowed by fire, a star collapsing into itself. He gasped and nearly fell, but Lira caught his arm.
"Aric!" she cried.
"I'm fine," he said, breath ragged. "I just… saw everything. The Flame's history, its grief."
The guardian began to crumble, its duty fulfilled. Before it turned to dust, its voice echoed one last time:
"The path ahead leads to the Valley of Echoes. There, the world remembers what the living forget."
Then it was gone. Only a faint glow lingered where it had knelt.
Kael exhaled slowly, lowering his weapon. "So the stories were true. The Flame's guardians still serve."
Lira looked out toward the darkening sky. "If they serve you, Aric, that means the shadows are coming for you too."
Aric clenched his fists. "Let them. I've hidden from what I was long enough."
They resumed their climb, but the air grew heavier, colder. The clouds above churned, flashes of violet lightning illuminating the peaks ahead. In the distance, the sound of wailing wind carried strange echoes—whispers of ancient sorrow.
As they reached the next ridge, they saw it.
Below them stretched a vast valley filled with spectral light, rivers of mist winding through ruins that seemed older than time. Ghostly figures drifted between the stones, their forms flickering like candle flames.
"The Valley of Echoes," Kael murmured. "Where the dead remember, and the living lose themselves."
Lira shivered. "It feels… sad."
Aric stared down at the valley, the golden spark within him responding with a soft pulse. "Sadness isn't all it holds," he said quietly. "It holds answers."
The wind rose, carrying faint voices that seemed to call his name.
Kael glanced at him, wary. "You still want to go down there?"
Aric's gaze never wavered. "Yes. Because somewhere in that valley lies the truth of what the Flame wants from me now."
And as he spoke, far across the peaks, the storm of shadows split open—and something vast and dark unfurled its wings.
The old powers had awakened. And they were not all on his side.