The silence in the corridor pressed against Eryndor's ears, heavy as a stone. The air was still, thick with a faint metallic tang that reminded him of old blood and dust. Torches flickered along the walls, their flames pale and steady, like time itself moved slower here. Or maybe it was just him, holding his breath.
He turned his head. Luca was still lying beside him, out cold but breathing. Relief washed through Eryndor, but it didn't last. The magic humming through the walls pulsed again, steady as a heartbeat, and he could feel something tugging beneath the stone floor, ancient, waiting.
Eryndor stood, trying to even his breathing. His fingers brushed the hilt of his sword, feeling the faint vibration of energy there. Whatever this "sanctuary" was, it wasn't normal. The runes etched along the walls shimmered, forming patterns that seemed to shift if you looked too long.
A whisper followed him,soft, indistinct, but… familiar.
He spun around, blade raised.
Nothing. Just the torchlight.
Then he heard it again.
"...Eryndor..."
The voice wasn't behind him. It was in the walls.
He gritted his teeth. "Show yourself."
The air stirred, and a blue light appeared at the end of the corridor. The same glow that had trapped them in the forest now formed an archway, pulsing like it was breathing.
Eryndor hesitated, glancing back at Luca. Leaving him wasn't an option, but neither was waiting. The air was alive with unseen magic, and time felt… wrong. Too quiet, too slow.
He crouched beside Luca, gently shaking his shoulder. "Luca," he said quietly. "Wake up."
At first, nothing. Then Luca stirred, his eyelids fluttering open to the dim orange light. His eyes widened when he saw where they were.
"Where… where are we?"
Eryndor's voice was calm, controlled. "Some kind of underground sanctum. That silver-haired freak brought us here."
Luca sat up, wincing as he rubbed his temple. "So, we're prisoners again?"
"Not yet." Eryndor glanced toward the blue archway. "But we're being tested."
Luca followed his gaze, his voice dropping. "That light… it feels…"
"Wrong," Eryndor finished. "It's calling us."
They stood in silence, staring at the light that seemed to pulse in rhythm with their hearts. Then, without a word, Eryndor stepped forward, his boots echoing on the stone floor. Luca followed.
The corridor opened into a vast chamber. Pillars rose from the ground like petrified trees, carved with runes so old that the air around them felt brittle. At the center stood a mirror, tall enough to reach the ceiling, framed by twisting metal vines.
But it wasn't their reflections that looked back.
Inside the glass was a vision, a version of Eryndor himself, standing in sunlight, smiling. His hair was shorter, his eyes brighter. He looked… human. Unscarred by war and loss.
Luca stopped beside him, speechless. "That's you."
Eryndor didn't answer. His throat tightened, and a flicker of pain crossed his face. He reached out, but the mirror rippled like water. The reflection stepped forward, mirroring his gesture,but its smile was wrong, too calm, too knowing.
Then the reflection spoke.
"You shouldn't have come here."
Eryndor's grip tightened on his sword. "What are you?"
"I'm what you left behind," the reflection said softly. "The part of you that believed, before everything burned."
Luca's eyes darted between them. "Eryndor… what is this?"
The reflection's voice softened. "He doesn't remember, not fully. The promise, the power… the reason he walks this path. But here, in the sanctuary, everything forgotten must be faced."
The mirror flared with blue light. The reflection raised a hand, and before Eryndor could react, magic surged outward, wrapping around them like liquid fire. Luca cried out, reaching for him, but the world was already fracturing.
The light swallowed everything.
Then, silence.
Eryndor opened his eyes to a different world. The forest again, but brighter, younger. The air was warm, the sun golden. And standing before him was a boy, a younger version of himself, laughing with reckless abandon.
A girl's voice called out, soft and teasing.
"Come on, Eryn! You'll miss the sunset!"
He turned toward the sound. And his chest ached.
Luca's voice echoed faintly from somewhere unseen. "Eryndor? Where are you?"
But the memory world had already taken hold, closing around him like a dream he couldn't wake from.
Warm wind brushed through the golden field, carrying the scent of spring. The sun hung low, painting the world in amber. For a moment, it felt real, the laughter, the light, the warmth on his skin.
Eryndor stood frozen in the tall grass, his heart pounding. The younger version of himself ran ahead, chasing the girl's voice through the meadow. His laughter rang clear, echoing like a memory he'd buried too deep.
"This… can't be real," Eryndor murmured, taking a step.
The wind shifted. The sun's warmth faded, and shadows rippled beneath the golden light. Still, the illusion held, too perfect, too beautiful.
The younger Eryndor stopped at the edge of a hill. He turned, smiling with the innocence of someone who hadn't learned what it meant to lose everything.
"You remember this place, don't you?" he asked.
Eryndor's throat felt dry. "It's a trick."
"Then why does your heart ache?"
The words struck deeper than any blade.
He wanted to deny it, but the memory's pull was strong. He did remember this place, the valley before the fire, before the betrayal. Before he made the choice that changed everything.
He took another step, the grass brushing against his legs. "What do you want from me?"
The younger version smiled. "To remember what you ran from."
The field shifted. The light dimmed. And the golden landscape burned away, replaced by smoke, ash, and screaming.
The illusion twisted into the night he could never forget. Flames licked the sky, painting everything red. Eryndor staggered back as the heat seared his skin, the smell of burning filled his lungs.
At the center stood the same younger version, but his eyes were hollow now. "You said you'd protect them," the illusion whispered. "But you let it all burn."
Eryndor clenched his fists. "It wasn't supposed to happen"
"But it did," the voice cut in. "Because you hesitated. Because you cared."
The words tore through him. He saw flashes, faces of those he'd lost, the flare of magic, the weight of a dying promise. He had sworn never to let it happen again.
The illusion twisted further. The faces of the fallen appeared in the smoke, their eyes reflecting disappointment and sorrow. He heard their voices overlapping, accusing.
"You were supposed to save us."
"You promised."
"You failed."
Eryndor's knees hit the ground. His sword clattered beside him. He pressed his palms against his head as the voices grew louder, his breath breaking.
Then, another voice cut through, faint, distant, but real.
"Eryndor!"
Luca.
The sound hit him like a cold shock. The illusion flickered.
Luca's voice grew louder, filled with urgency. "You're not alone, do you hear me? Wake up!"
The younger version of Eryndor turned toward the voice, his expression darkening. "He'll take everything from you, too," he hissed. "Just like the others."
Eryndor lifted his head, his eyes burning. "No."
He reached for his sword, gripping it tight. "Not this time."
The illusion trembled as he rose. Flames whirled around him, but he stood tall, his voice steady and fierce. "I'm done running from the past."
The world cracked. The sky split with a shattering sound like glass. Light poured in, dissolving the illusion into streams of blue energy. The echoes of the dead faded.
When Eryndor opened his eyes, he was back in the stone chamber. The mirror was shattered, its surface glowing faintly before dimming to black. Luca was there, kneeling beside him, gripping his shoulder. His face was etched with worry.
"Eryndor," he breathed. "You're back."
Eryndor blinked, the haze of memory fading. His voice was rough. "How long… was I gone?"
"Too long," Luca said quietly. Then, softer, "I thought I'd lost you."
Eryndor looked at him, something unspoken passing between them. Gratitude, guilt, something he couldn't name. Finally, he said, "You brought me back."
Luca managed a shaky smile. "Someone had to."
Eryndor stood, steadying himself, and turned toward the end of the chamber. The shattered mirror had left a trail of light leading deeper into the sanctum. Whatever waited, it wasn't over.
He glanced at Luca, his tone quiet but certain. "Let's finish this."
Luca nodded, determination flickering in his eyes. "Together."
Side by side, they stepped into the light.