The blue stones beneath Aren's boots glowed brighter with each step, casting eerie shadows on the vine-choked walls around him. The air felt damp and heavy, carrying a scent of old moss and something else ; something ancient and restless.
Aren whistled softly, letting his voice bounce off the stone. "Echoes, huh? At least someone's willing to laugh at my jokes," he muttered.
He moved carefully now, his blade drawn and ready. Despite his constant jokes, every muscle in his body stayed sharp as a spring. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that glowing stones would lead him to the relic without a price.
After a few turns, the narrow tunnel opened into a massive chamber. Pillars carved with snarling beasts and coiling serpents reached up to a cracked stone ceiling far above. Water dripped somewhere in the darkness, each drop echoing like a whisper.
In the center of the room stood a wide, circular platform made of black stone. Strange runes spiraled around its edge, flickering with the same blue light as the stones he'd followed.
Aren stepped closer, tilting his head. "Looks like someone really wanted to show off their carving skills."
He circled the platform, his eyes darting over the symbols. Then he noticed it , a small inscription in the center, almost hidden under years of grime and moss. He crouched down and brushed it clean with his sleeve.
"Speak the truth or be swallowed by silence."
Aren blinked. "Well… I talk a lot of nonsense, but I can tell the truth when I have to." He stood up, tapping the edge of his blade against his palm as he thought.
The ground beneath the platform began to rumble, and stone tiles along the walls shifted, revealing narrow slits ; traps waiting to spring.
Aren took a deep breath. "All right… truth. I'm terrified of failing. I hide it with jokes because… if I stop laughing, I remember what it's like to lose someone. To feel powerless."
The echo of his voice seemed to swirl around the chamber, curling up toward the cracked ceiling. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then the blue runes flared to life, flooding the room with light. The hidden slits in the walls slowly sealed shut, and the rumble faded.
Aren let out a long, shaky breath. "Ha! I knew my big mouth would save me one day."
A new path appeared at the far end of the chamber , a narrow staircase carved directly into the rock, descending into deeper shadows. Aren stepped forward, his heart still hammering.
"Well, Grandma, you always said I talked too much. Guess it finally paid off," he whispered, forcing a grin back onto his face.
Without hesitation, he started down the stairs. His boots tapped softly against the stone, the glow of the runes fading behind him. As he descended, the air grew colder, and the sound of distant, echoing drums began to rise from below.
Aren couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh good, they brought music. Maybe they'll have snacks, too."
Somewhere down in the darkness, the next trial waited ; sharper, deadlier, and closer to the heart of the jungle's secret. But Aren's eyes gleamed, and his fingers tightened on his sword.
This was exactly where he wanted to be.