Alexandra's POV
They say there's no turning back once you step into the unknown.
I took that step, and now, every breath I take feels like it's dragging me deeper into the invisible, far more significant than I imagined. The air was heavy with tension as I left the old watchtower behind. The map burned faintly in my pocket—yes, burned, like it was alive, like it knew where I was headed and wanted to guide me.
Or warn me.
Rae was unusually quiet, walking a few paces ahead. I knew she was scared. I was too. But I couldn't let it stop me. Not now. Not after everything I'd learned.
The call had changed. It was no longer a gentle nudge—it was a pull. Urgent. Unrelenting.
As we approached the forest's edge, I felt it again—a low hum beneath my feet, like the earth itself was vibrating. Rae paused and looked back at me.
"You feel that?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded. "It's stronger now."
She opened the map again, and that's when we noticed something new—a symbol that hadn't been there before. A circle with a single eye in the center, and a line drawn straight through it. The ink was still fresh. We both stared at it, realizing it marked a location just beyond the forest—a place neither of us had dared to enter before.
The place called Ebonreach.
"You think this is where it wants us to go?" Rae asked.
I didn't answer. I didn't have to.
We knew.
Ebonreach had a reputation. It was the kind of place mothers used to scare their children into behaving. "Step out of line and you'll end up in Ebonreach," they'd say. But no one ever came back to say if it was true.
We pushed into the forest, following the path the map had marked, even though it didn't seem to exist in the real world. Trees grew closer together. The air thickened. The sky dimmed. It was like walking into a dream—except this dream could kill us.
Rae pulled out the compass. It spun wildly in every direction before shattering in her hand.
"What the hell?" she gasped, dropping the pieces.
We were officially flying blind.
That's when we heard it—the whispering.
Not like voices in your head, no. It was real. Surrounding us. Breathing with us.
"Do you hear that?" I asked.
Rae's face went pale. "They know we're here."
We kept moving.
The trees opened suddenly, revealing a clearing. In the center stood a stone pedestal, covered in moss and strange carvings. I stepped closer, drawn to it. There was something on top—a small, black orb pulsing faintly.
I reached for it. Rae grabbed my arm.
"Don't," she said sharply. "You don't know what that is."
But I did.
It was the Eye. The same one from the map.
It wanted me to take it.
So I did.
The moment my fingers touched it, the world shattered.
I was standing in a different place. Cold. Silent. The forest was gone. Rae was gone.
But the orb was still in my hand, only now it glowed with light—blue, bright, alive.
Then I heard the voice. Not like the whispers in the trees, but clear and direct, inside my mind.
"You have been marked."
"You carry the Eye of Knowing."
"You will remember what was hidden. You will see what others fear."
I clutched my head. Visions poured in—flashes of ruins, faces I didn't recognize, symbols, battles, fire, and something far beneath the earth, sleeping.
I screamed.
When I woke, Rae was leaning over me. "You've been out for hours," she said. "Are you okay?"
"I saw it," I whispered. "The thing that's calling us. It's not a place. It's not even a person."
"What is it?"
"A force. A... memory. And it wants to return."
Rae didn't ask questions. She helped me to my feet, and we pressed on. Something had changed in me. I could feel it. The whispers in the woods had stopped—but I still heard them, in me.
The Eye had connected me to whatever was buried in Ebonreach.
We finally reached a black gate, iron and ancient, hidden in a wall of vines. No hinges, no handles. But the moment I touched it, it creaked open like it had been waiting centuries for me.
We stepped through.
Ebonreach wasn't just a village—it was a ruin. Houses stood in crooked silence, their roofs fallen in. Ash floated in the air, though there was no fire.
It looked... forgotten.
"This place..." Rae began. "It's like time stopped here."
"It did," I replied. "Because of what they buried."
That's when we saw them—statues lining the streets. Dozens of them. People, frozen mid-run, mouths open in silent screams.
"Oh my god..." Rae whispered.
"They're not statues," I said, realizing the awful truth. "They were real."
Petrified. Left as warnings.
Rae turned to me, panic in her eyes. "We have to go."
"We can't," I said. "We're already inside."
Then the gate slammed shut behind us.
We ran, heart pounding, searching for anything—anyone. That's when we found it. A tower, still intact, at the center of town. The same one I saw in the vision.
We climbed the spiral steps, dust rising with every footstep. At the top was a room. A circular room, filled with mirrors.
And in the center—a woman.
She looked... asleep. But her chest rose and fell gently. She was held in place by vines, magic, something ancient.
"Who is she?" Rae asked.
"I don't know," I said. "But I think she's the one who sealed this place. Or maybe she's what it was meant to contain."
As I stepped closer, the Eye began to glow again, reacting to her presence.
She stirred.
Just slightly.
Her eyes opened.
She looked directly at me.
And spoke.
"You're too late."