The mountain trembled as Nkosana descended from the Whispering Flame. Thandi stood a few steps away, unsure whether to reach out or bow. The change in him was undeniable—his aura no longer wavered like a flickering candle but surged like a storm trapped in flesh.
Lightning cracked across the sky as if the world itself had taken notice.
"We need to move," he said, voice low but laced with quiet power. "The Council won't wait."
Thandi nodded. "You think they already know?"
"They've always known. They just hoped I wouldn't survive long enough to matter."
They traveled through ravaged landscapes—villages drained of color, shadows longer than they should be, whispers in the wind calling Nkosana's name. Each step forward was a step deeper into the curse's territory… or perhaps into his destiny.
At nightfall, they reached the ruins of an old monastery. The Eye of the Storm was said to lie beneath it—an ancient relic that showed the bearer their true enemy.
Thandi looked around, nervous. "You sure about this?"
He didn't answer. He just stepped through the crumbling archway.
[07/28, 09:35] ChatGPT: Inside, the silence was deafening. Statues of angels stood shattered, their faces worn away. At the altar stood a single mirror, surrounded by runes. But this was no ordinary reflection.
As Nkosana approached, the mirror shimmered and showed him… himself.
Only this version was laughing.
Blood dripping from his hands.
Thandi's lifeless body at his feet.
His reflection whispered, "You don't need her. You don't need anyone."
Nkosana clenched his fists. "You're not me."
"But I *am*. I'm who you become when you give in."
The mirror shattered, and from its shards rose a creature of flame and shadow—his inner demon, now made flesh.
The Eye of the Storm had revealed the enemy… and it was him.