Chapter 75: Into the Forgotten Chasm
No stars pierced the sky above the Forgotten Lands.
Only a vast expanse of shadow, stretched like a shroud across the heavens.
Echo stood at the edge of the last marked territory, where the map ended, and the unknown began.
Behind her, the expedition was silent.
Kael, vigilant as always.
Nerya, fingers drifting near her frostfire dagger.
Lumen, carrying the Emberlight staff that pulsed weakly now, as if sensing the danger ahead.
And Dace—the Hollow scout—chosen for his uncanny ability to detect illusions.
Before them stretched the Veilrift: a cragged, sunless ravine carved by something older than time, where no fire had ever burned.
"Once we cross," Kael murmured, "there's no turning back."
Echo didn't answer right away.
She stared down into the chasm.
There were no echoes.
No wind.
Only pressure.
Like the world waiting to inhale.
Then she stepped forward.
And the abyss welcomed them.
The descent took a day.
Then another.
The light from above thinned into gray.
Then black.
Even their fire—controlled, shaped, summoned—dimmed the deeper they went.
As if something unseen whispered:
"Not here."
The walls narrowed around them, shifting in ways that shouldn't be possible.
Rocks curled like bones.
Shadows moved in ways that didn't obey their torches.
Once, they heard laughter.
But no one had spoken.
On the third day, they found it.
A gate of obsidian teeth, spiraling inward like a maw.
Carved into the arch were words in a language Echo didn't recognize—yet understood:
"What you burn will burn you back."
Kael moved beside her, hand on his blade. "It's a warning."
"No," Nerya said, her breath misting. "It's a promise."
The gate opened without touch.
Just will.
Inside lay a hall of mirrors—not glass, but smooth, black stone that reflected truths, not appearances.
One by one, they passed through.
Kael saw himself failing to protect Echo—again and again, always too late.
He gritted his teeth and pushed forward.
Lumen's reflection turned to ash in her hands—every ember she summoned betraying her.
She trembled, then whispered a prayer to the Old Flame.
Dace vanished completely.
His mirror showed nothing.
And when he stepped out, he refused to speak.
But Echo…
Echo's mirror showed her standing alone.
Emberhold, in ruins behind her.
Every flame—dead.
Every bond—broken.
And her own eyes… hollow.
As if she'd become the flame she feared.
She blinked. And the image changed.
This time, it showed her with Kael.
Holding hands.
Both crowned in fire.
But behind them stood a figure of smoke and shadow.
Smiling.
Waiting.
"Ignore the mirrors," Kael said gently. "They lie."
"No," Echo whispered. "They warn."
Beyond the hall was silence.
Then… light.
But not warm.
Just pale. Thin. Empty.
The final chamber was vast, domed, ancient.
And at its center: the Void Flame.
It floated above an altar carved from bone and onyx.
A sphere of pure shadowfire—black and pulsing, with a halo of silver-blue that flickered like a dying star.
It made no sound.
But everyone heard something.
Kael heard his name.
Lumen heard her father's voice, though he'd been dead ten years.
Nerya fell to one knee, frostbrands on her hands cracking.
Echo stepped forward.
The Void Flame pulsed.
And spoke—not aloud.
But inside her mind.
"You were born from betrayal. Tempered by pain. Carried by others' fire. But you are mine."
Echo clenched her fists.
"I'm not yours."
"But you came. You opened the path. You called us."
The flame brightened.
And with it came something else.
A windless pull.
Lumen gasped. Her Emberlight staff began to flicker and lean toward the Void.
Kael reached for Echo, but his boots dragged across the stone.
Even Dace, silent and strong, knelt—sweat on his brow.
The flame was drawing them in.
Feeding on hope.
Feeding on fear.
Echo reached deep inside herself, to the fire that had never left her.
To the Unbound Flame.
To the truths she'd forged in battle and silence and love.
And screamed, "No."
The Void Flame halted.
It didn't retreat.
It tilted.
As if… amused.
"You deny what you are. You refuse what is already within."
Echo raised her hand—and summoned fire.
Not to destroy.
Not to wield.
But to balance.
The flame that sparked from her palm was small.
Soft.
But true.
"I'm not here to serve you," she said.
"I'm here to stop whoever would."
The Void Flame shuddered.
The dome trembled.
And a crack formed across the altar.
From within the Void… a second pulse echoed.
Not flame.
Not fire.
But footsteps.
Echo turned.
And saw a figure step from the darkness.
Wreathed in shadows.
Eyes silver-blue.
And familiar.
Too familiar.
Because it wore her face.
Chapter 75: Into the Forgotten Chasm
No stars pierced the sky above the Forgotten Lands.
Only a vast expanse of shadow, stretched like a shroud across the heavens.
Echo stood at the edge of the last marked territory, where the map ended, and the unknown began.
Behind her, the expedition was silent.
Kael, vigilant as always.
Nerya, fingers drifting near her frostfire dagger.
Lumen, carrying the Emberlight staff that pulsed weakly now, as if sensing the danger ahead.
And Dace—the Hollow scout—chosen for his uncanny ability to detect illusions.
Before them stretched the Veilrift: a cragged, sunless ravine carved by something older than time, where no fire had ever burned.
"Once we cross," Kael murmured, "there's no turning back."
Echo didn't answer right away.
She stared down into the chasm.
There were no echoes.
No wind.
Only pressure.
Like the world waiting to inhale.
Then she stepped forward.
And the abyss welcomed them.
The descent took a day.
Then another.
The light from above thinned into gray.
Then black.
Even their fire—controlled, shaped, summoned—dimmed the deeper they went.
As if something unseen whispered:
"Not here."
The walls narrowed around them, shifting in ways that shouldn't be possible.
Rocks curled like bones.
Shadows moved in ways that didn't obey their torches.
Once, they heard laughter.
But no one had spoken.
On the third day, they found it.
A gate of obsidian teeth, spiraling inward like a maw.
Carved into the arch were words in a language Echo didn't recognize—yet understood:
"What you burn will burn you back."
Kael moved beside her, hand on his blade. "It's a warning."
"No," Nerya said, her breath misting. "It's a promise."
The gate opened without touch.
Just will.
Inside lay a hall of mirrors—not glass, but smooth, black stone that reflected truths, not appearances.
One by one, they passed through.
Kael saw himself failing to protect Echo—again and again, always too late.
He gritted his teeth and pushed forward.
Lumen's reflection turned to ash in her hands—every ember she summoned betraying her.
She trembled, then whispered a prayer to the Old Flame.
Dace vanished completely.
His mirror showed nothing.
And when he stepped out, he refused to speak.
But Echo…
Echo's mirror showed her standing alone.
Emberhold, in ruins behind her.
Every flame—dead.
Every bond—broken.
And her own eyes… hollow.
As if she'd become the flame she feared.
She blinked. And the image changed.
This time, it showed her with Kael.
Holding hands.
Both crowned in fire.
But behind them stood a figure of smoke and shadow.
Smiling.
Waiting.
"Ignore the mirrors," Kael said gently. "They lie."
"No," Echo whispered. "They warn."
Beyond the hall was silence.
Then… light.
But not warm.
Just pale. Thin. Empty.
The final chamber was vast, domed, ancient.
And at its center: the Void Flame.
It floated above an altar carved from bone and onyx.
A sphere of pure shadowfire—black and pulsing, with a halo of silver-blue that flickered like a dying star.
It made no sound.
But everyone heard something.
Kael heard his name.
Lumen heard her father's voice, though he'd been dead ten years.
Nerya fell to one knee, frostbrands on her hands cracking.
Echo stepped forward.
The Void Flame pulsed.
And spoke—not aloud.
But inside her mind.
"You were born from betrayal. Tempered by pain. Carried by others' fire. But you are mine."
Echo clenched her fists.
"I'm not yours."
"But you came. You opened the path. You called us."
The flame brightened.
And with it came something else.
A windless pull.
Lumen gasped. Her Emberlight staff began to flicker and lean toward the Void.
Kael reached for Echo, but his boots dragged across the stone.
Even Dace, silent and strong, knelt—sweat on his brow.
The flame was drawing them in.
Feeding on hope.
Feeding on fear.
Echo reached deep inside herself, to the fire that had never left her.
To the Unbound Flame.
To the truths she'd forged in battle and silence and love.
And screamed, "No."
The Void Flame halted.
It didn't retreat.
It tilted.
As if… amused.
"You deny what you are. You refuse what is already within."
Echo raised her hand—and summoned fire.
Not to destroy.
Not to wield.
But to balance.
The flame that sparked from her palm was small.
Soft.
But true.
"I'm not here to serve you," she said.
"I'm here to stop whoever would."
The Void Flame shuddered.
The dome trembled.
And a crack formed across the altar.
From within the Void… a second pulse echoed.
Not flame.
Not fire.
But footsteps.
Echo turned.
And saw a figure step from the darkness.
Wreathed in shadows.
Eyes silver-blue.
And familiar.
Too familiar.
Because it wore her face.