The forest they entered shimmered unnaturally. The air was warm but carried the scent of forgotten time, ancient, worn, like books sealed beneath stone. Birds did not chirp here. Even the wind seemed hesitant.
Leloid walked slightly behind Aethon and Eira, silent as ever. Not distant… just weighed down. His eyes, once expressive, flickered with restrained tension every time the Orb was mentioned. Eira noticed. So did Aethon. But neither spoke.
The map they'd stolen from the Joker Mage's vault was etched into animal hide, marked with runes that changed shape when the Orb's fragment pulsed. According to it, the next piece of the Orb lay buried beneath the Temple of Reversal, where time once ran backward after a great war. But it wasn't the location that troubled Aethon, it was the inscription etched beside it:
"Only the marked shall walk untouched. But beware: the Shard listens."
"Marked?" Eira repeated aloud. "Does that mean… you?" Aethon gave a cautious nod. "I think it refers to the fragment inside me. The Architect's essence." Leloid stopped walking. "Then we must tread carefully. If the Architect truly listens, then he might know our every step. Even this conversation."
A silence passed between them like a shadow. Leloid wasn't wrong. If the Architect's essence lived in Aethon, and Aethon carried the shard… were they guiding themselves, or being led?
"Why didn't you say that sooner?" Eira asked, half-accusing. Leloid met her eyes. "Because it would've changed nothing. But now, you should know—"
He hesitated. Something unspoken hovered on his lips.
"—The Orb… can not just seal but also destroy the Architect," he finally said, "but only through a sacrificial ritual."
The forest went still. Even the breeze stopped.
"What?" Aethon's voice dropped. "Sacrificial?"
Leloid nodded, eyes hard. "The Joker Mage suspected. I confirmed it in Lyrex's fortress. The Architect created isn't dead, just sealed, as a higher dimensional being, Killing him is of outscaling powers, powers no one in this realm can attain.",
"No," Eira whispered.
Aethon's fists clenched. The grass beneath his boots bent as if recoiling from the truth.
"Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Because I didn't want it to break you." Leloid's voice cracked for the first time. "You're my brother, Aethon. I wanted to believe we could find another way." Eira took a step toward Aethon, gently touching his shoulder. "There will be another way."
Leloid said nothing.
Somewhere beyond the trees, a faint ringing echoed—like chimes in reverse, haunting and melodic. The Temple wasn't far now. "We find the piece," Aethon said finally, voice cold but clear. "We face the truth when it's time." And as they stepped forward again, the shard in his arm gave a slow pulse… not in warning, but in anticipation.
Far behind them, hidden within the realm between thought and time, Lyrex watched through a shadowed mirror.
"All going to plan," she whispered.
"Let them gather the pieces"