Sam stumbled through the front door long after midnight, his body trembling, his vision blurring. Each breath felt heavy — as if the air itself had turned to stone. The last thing he remembered was the faint whisper in his ear:
"You've only seen the beginning…"
He barely made it to his room before his legs gave out. The world spun, and then — darkness.
When light finally returned, it was soft and distant. Sam's eyes fluttered open to see the familiar ceiling of his room. The scent of herbs filled the air. His body felt weak, as though every ounce of strength had been drained from him.
Beside his bed sat Lisa, her eyes red and swollen. She was holding his hand tightly, her lips moving in a silent prayer. When Sam stirred, her eyes widened in disbelief.
"Sam!" she gasped, tears slipping down her cheeks. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his hand. "Thank the heavens… You're awake."
Sam blinked in confusion. "Lisa? What… happened?"
"You've been asleep for three days," she said, her voice breaking. "You wouldn't wake up no matter what we tried. I called the doctor, even Sister Lili and Father Eran from the church — but nothing worked. You were cold… and your heart was so faint, I thought I'd lost you."
Her words hit him like a wave. Three days.
He tried to sit up, but dizziness struck him again. Lisa quickly steadied him, her expression firm despite her tears.
"Don't move too fast. You need rest."
Sam nodded weakly, his mind swirling. He remembered the scroll. The battle. The man with the sword that could cut the sky itself. Every image still burned vividly behind his eyes.
"I'm sorry I worried you," he whispered, managing a faint smile.
Lisa shook her head, her grip tightening. "Promise me, Sam. No more disappearing, no more secrets. Whatever you're doing… it's hurting you."
Sam hesitated, guilt flickering across his face. He couldn't tell her. Not yet. Not until he understood what was happening to him — or what that shadow wanted.
"I promise," he said softly, though the lie weighed heavy on his chest.
Lisa brushed his hair back, sighing in relief as she whispered, "You're all I have left, Sam. Don't make me lose you too."
Her words lingered in the quiet room, mingling with the faint hum of wind outside.
But beneath that silence, deep within Sam's chest, the pendant pulsed once — faintly — like the heartbeat of something ancient waiting to awaken.
Days passed, and Sam's strength slowly returned. The color had come back to his face, though his eyes seemed distant — as if they were staring at something far beyond the world around him.
Lisa checked on him often, refusing to leave his side for long. But that night, as the wind howled outside and the rain tapped against the window, Sam lay awake, staring at the faint glow pulsing from the pendant around his neck.
It was… different now. Brighter, almost alive.
He reached for it hesitantly. "What are you?" he murmured.
The moment his fingers brushed the metal, the room blurred — the world melting into streaks of black and gold. He gasped, clutching the pendant as the air turned weightless.
Then, through the haze, a voice — soft, trembling, and heartbreakingly familiar.
"Sam…"
He turned. A faint figure stood in the darkness ahead — her outline glowing with gentle light. Her hair flowed like silver silk, her smile both warm and sorrowful.
"Mother…?" His voice cracked.
"S-Sam," the figure whispered again, stepping closer. "You must listen to me. Time is short."
He tried to reach out, but his hand passed through her like mist. "How are you here? You're—"
"I'm not," she said gently. "What you see is only a fragment… a memory sealed within the pendant. I prayed you would never have to awaken it."
Sam's chest tightened. "What do you mean?"
Her expression darkened, the warmth fading from her eyes. "The seal beneath the church has begun to break. The darkness that once devoured gods… is stirring again."
The air trembled. Lightning flashed in the distance — not real lightning, but the echo of some great power.
"You must be careful, my son. There are forces that will come for you — both to destroy and to claim you. You carry a power that can shape the world, but if you lose control…"
Her form flickered violently, her voice distorting.
"…it will consume everything."
"Wait!" Sam shouted, stepping forward. "Tell me how to stop it! Tell me what I have to do!"
But her image began to fade, like smoke dissolving into night.
"You must seek the truth hidden in the ruins of the forgotten temple…" her voice whispered faintly. "…before they do."
Then — silence.
The glow of the pendant dimmed, leaving only the sound of Sam's rapid heartbeat.
He fell to his knees, gripping it tightly. "Mother…"
Outside, the wind howled louder — and somewhere far beyond the village, deep in the wastelands where light never reached, something massive stirred awake.
The morning sun broke through the mist, washing the village in a golden calm. After days of rest, Sam felt steady again — though the echo of his mother's voice lingered in his mind like a shadow that refused to fade.
He made his way toward the church, its bells ringing softly in the wind. The great doors creaked open as he stepped inside, the scent of incense heavy in the air. Father Eran — a man of gentle posture and kind eyes — was arranging candles at the altar.
"Ah, Sam," he greeted, turning with a smile. "You're awake and well. The entire village was worried."
Sam bowed his head politely. "I owe you and Sister Lili for checking on me. I… needed your guidance on something."
Eran nodded. "Of course, my boy. What troubles you?"
Sam hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Have you ever heard of a place called the Forgotten Temple?"
At the name, Eran's hands paused mid-motion. The candle's flame flickered strangely, stretching toward Sam as if drawn by the word itself.
"The Forgotten Temple…" he repeated slowly, his brow furrowing. "That's not a name I've heard in many years — if ever. Where did you learn of such a place?"
Sam glanced away. "I read about it in an old book. It mentioned something… hidden there. Something ancient."
Father Eran hummed, thoughtful. "If that's true, then your answers might not be found here." He moved toward the library shelves, pulling out a rolled map covered in dust. "There is a town far to the east — Lavatorian. A grand academy of scholars and historians stands there. They study relics from the old ages — ruins, languages, forgotten wars."
"Lavatorian…" Sam repeated quietly, his mind already set alight by the name.
Eran nodded. "If anyone still remembers the stories of that temple, it will be them. But tread carefully, Sam. Curiosity can open doors not meant to be opened."
Sam bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you, Father. I'll be careful."
As he turned to leave, Eran called out softly, "Sam… if you ever feel burdened, remember — even light casts a shadow. What matters is how you walk within it."
Sam smiled faintly at that, though his eyes carried the weight of something far older than his years.
Outside, the wind carried the faint sound of the church bells as he looked toward the horizon — toward the east, where Lavatorian waited.
And far above, unseen by him, a dark silhouette passed through the clouds — watching.
The sky was painted in shades of amber and violet as the evening settled over the village. The quiet hum of the market faded into the chirping of distant crickets. Sam stood by the old wooden gate of his home, his bag resting at his feet — packed with only the bare essentials: food, a blade Alfred had reforged for him, and the scroll he could not part with.
Lisa stepped out of the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron, her eyes catching the glint of the pendant around Sam's neck. For a moment, neither spoke — the silence between them heavy, full of unspoken worries.
Finally, she broke it.
"Where are you going, Sam?"
Sam hesitated, his gaze lowering. "Farther east. To a place called Lavatorian. Father Eran said I might find some answers there."
Lisa's brow furrowed. "Answers? About what?"
He gave a small, uncertain smile. "About myself… about what's been happening. I can't stay here, Lisa. Not without understanding what I am."
Her expression softened, but her eyes glistened with tears she tried to hide. "You just woke up after being unconscious for three days. And now you're leaving again?"
"I have to," he said quietly. "I can feel something coming. Something big. If I don't learn to control this power, I might bring danger here — to you, to everyone."
Lisa looked down, her voice trembling. "You always think of others first, even when you're the one in pain."
Sam smiled faintly. "Someone has to keep the balance, right?"
She stepped closer, clutching a small charm in her hand — a simple piece of wood shaped like a crescent moon. "Then take this. It's supposed to protect travelers on long roads. My mother gave it to me… now it's yours."
Sam took it carefully, his fingers brushing hers. "Thank you, Lisa. I'll come back — I promise."
Lisa tried to smile, but her voice cracked. "You'd better. Or I'll come find you myself."
He laughed softly, shouldering his bag. The sound of it was light, but beneath it was a sense of finality — a beginning.
As he turned toward the road leading east, the wind picked up, carrying the scent of rain and distant mountains. Lisa watched until his silhouette faded into the dusk, her hand clutching the spot where the pendant had glowed faintly moments before.
Far ahead, under the dimming sky, Sam felt the pendant pulse once — as if guiding him toward the unknown.