The forest ended abruptly.
Beyond its twisted edge lay a world stripped bare—land scorched black, trees petrified into skeletal remains, the air thick with the scent of fire that had long since died out. No birds sang here. No wind stirred. Even time seemed hesitant to move forward.
Talen stepped onto the cracked earth, his boots crunching over brittle bones hidden beneath the ash.
This was it.
The threshold of Vorathax's domain.
He tightened his grip on his sword, though he knew steel would do little good if the legends were true.
Still… he walked on.
The silence pressed against him like a living thing. His breath came slow and measured. Every heartbeat echoed louder than it should have.
Then, just ahead, something shifted.
A figure stood at the edge of a ruined road—tall, cloaked in shadow, unmoving. At first, Talen thought it was another statue, another remnant of forgotten battles.
But as he drew closer, it turned.
And smiled.
It was not a man.
Nor quite a beast.
Its eyes gleamed like embers buried beneath cold stone.
"You're early," it said, voice smooth as flowing lava.
Talen raised his sword.
"Who are you?"
The figure tilted its head.
"I am what comes after heroes."
Talen lunged.
The creature did not move. Did not flinch.
Instead, his blade passed through it like mist—and reemerged coated in black flame.
He staggered back, heart pounding.
"What are you?"
The figure took a step forward, and the ground cracked beneath its feet.
"I am your reflection," it whispered. "I am what you refuse to remember."
Talen shook his head violently.
"No. I'm Talen. Knight of Eldenmere. Slayer of Vorathax."
The creature laughed—a sound like distant thunder.
"Are you?" it asked. "Or are you merely the echo of one?"
It reached toward him—not with hands, but with memories.
Suddenly, flashes filled his mind:
A boy screaming.
A sword dripping red.
A throne bathed in fire.
A voice whispering from the dark:
"You are not the first to wear this name."
Talen fell to his knees, gasping.
His vision blurred.
In the space before him, the creature changed.
Its form twisted.
Now it looked like him.
Exactly like him.
Only its eyes remained different.
Empty.
Knowing.
"You've come far," the mirror-Talen said. "But you won't leave."
Talen tried to speak, but his throat was dry.
"Why not?"
The reflection smiled.
"Because you already did."
And then, behind them both, the mountain roared.
Vorathax was waiting.