The path beyond the broken mirror was a narrow corridor carved from pale stone. Blue veins of light pulsed through the walls, giving everything a ghostly glow. Every step echoed, like the space itself was listening. Or judging.
Eryndor walked ahead, his hand resting on his sword. Luca followed, still quiet from what had happened. Neither spoke for a while. Just the hum of energy and their footsteps.
Finally, Luca exhaled. "That illusion… it tried to break you."
"Almost did," Eryndor replied, his voice flat. "But it showed me something I needed to see."
He slowed down. "The past doesn't just vanish. It waits until you're strong enough to face it."
Luca nodded, glancing at the glowing lines on the floor. "So, this place… it forces everyone to face their worst selves."
Eryndor gave a humorless smile. "Seems that way."
They walked until the tunnel opened into a circular hall. Pillars rose around them, engraved with runes that glowed like starlight. In the center, above a pool of liquid silver, was a crystal sphere, rotating, whispering in a language they didn't understand.
"The heart of the sanctuary," Luca murmured.
Eryndor stepped closer, feeling the energy thrum through the air. The aura was powerful, alive. He could sense fragments of memories swirling in the sphere, echoes of souls who had entered this place.
"Careful," Luca warned, noticing runes activating along the pool's edge. "It's reacting to us."
The air grew colder. The silver liquid rippled, forming rings of light. Then, a figure began to emerge from the pool, rising like a reflection taking form.
Long silver hair cascaded down her shoulders, glowing in the dim chamber. Her eyes were luminous, almost colorless, yet impossibly deep. She wore a flowing robe of white and blue silk, the same shade as the light surrounding the sanctuary.
Luca reached for his weapon. "Who are you?"
The figure didn't answer. She looked at Eryndor, her expression unreadable. When she spoke, her voice was calm and ethereal, echoing through the hall.
"I've been waiting for you."
Eryndor froze. "...For me?"
The woman nodded. "You carry the mark of the first flame, the echo of something lost."
Her eyes drifted to his chest, where blue lines pulsed beneath his armor, the same pattern that had appeared when he touched the sanctuary's gate.
Eryndor stepped forward. "You know what this is?"
"I know what it means," she replied. "It binds you to the cycle this sanctuary was built to preserve."
Luca frowned. "Cycle? What cycle?"
The woman turned to him, the silver in her eyes flickering like moonlight. "The cycle of rebirth and silence. This place stores the echoes of those who bore the burden of light. Their memories, their sins, their choices, they all return here."
Eryndor felt a deep unease. "Then why call me here?"
The woman stepped closer, the liquid beneath her feet rippling. "Because the seal that keeps the echoes contained is breaking. Only someone with that mark can decide whether to restore it… or destroy it."
Her words hung heavy.
Eryndor stared at her, trying to read her. "You talk like you've seen this before."
"I have," she said quietly. "Many times."
He took another step. "What happens if I destroy the seal?"
Her eyes softened, but her tone grew distant. "Then every memory bound here will be freed. The dead will return as whispers to the living world, and the balance will collapse."
Luca's grip on his sword tightened. "That sounds like a disaster."
The woman didn't deny it. "Restoration carries its own price. To restore the seal… someone must take the burden of all those echoes into themselves."
Eryndor's jaw tensed. "You mean… a sacrifice."
Her gaze lingered on him before she nodded.
The silence was suffocating. The sphere above them hummed, its light flickering.
Luca broke the quiet. "You said you've been waiting for him. Why him?"
"Because," the woman said slowly, "he created the first seal."
Luca's eyes widened. "What?"
Eryndor blinked. "That's impossible. I'd remember that."
The woman's expression didn't change. "Would you?"
She raised her hand, and fragments of light formed in the air, images flickering like pieces of a dream. A battlefield. Fire. Silver light raining from the sky.
And at the center stood Eryndor, older, cloaked in shadow and light, driving his sword into the ground as the sanctuary formed.
Luca stepped back, stunned. "That's… you."
Eryndor stared at the image, his chest tightening. "No. That can't be me."
But something in him knew. The echo of power, the déjà vu, it all aligned.
The woman lowered her hand, and the vision dissolved. "You sealed the echoes once. Now you must decide whether the world deserves that silence."
Her voice was calm, but her eyes carried sorrow.
Eryndor stood frozen, caught between disbelief and the possibility that she was right.
Then, softly, he asked, "Who are you really?"
The woman gave a faint smile. "A fragment of what you left behind."
The silence after her words felt endless. Eryndor's mind was a storm of disbelief, questions, and a faint, unbearable familiarity.
The woman, this silver-haired reflection, stood perfectly still above the liquid surface, her expression unreadable, yet there was sorrow in her gaze.
Luca stepped closer to Eryndor. "What does she mean, 'a fragment of what you left behind'? Are you saying she's… part of you?"
The woman's voice echoed gently, "Not just part. I am the memory you sacrificed when you sealed the sanctuary. You gave up everything that tied you to the mortal world, your name, your past, and the one you loved."
Eryndor's breath caught. "The one I… loved?"
The silver-haired woman smiled, a smile that carried a thousand years of pain. "You once called me Lyra."
Her name struck him like a blade. He didn't recognize it, yet the sound made something deep inside tremble, an emotion buried too long to fade. Images flickered: moonlight on armor, a hand reaching for his, a voice whispering his name as the world burned.
Eryndor stepped forward, the ground shimmering. "If that's true… if you're what I left behind, then why are you still here?"
Lyra's gaze softened. "Because the seal used my soul as its anchor. I was never meant to awaken until the mark called you back. You and I are both bound to this place."
Luca looked between them, disbelief on his face. "You're saying he sacrificed you, to keep this place locked away?"
Lyra nodded. "He didn't mean to destroy me. He did what he must to save a dying world."
Her eyes lingered on Eryndor. "Now the cycle repeats. The echoes have grown restless. The world trembles again. The same decision stands before you, save them, or let everything be free."
Eryndor clenched his fists. "There must be another way."
Lyra's expression was calm, but her voice trembled. "There isn't. You knew that once. And you chose silence over chaos."
The words struck him. The idea of choosing again, of sacrificing another life, or his own humanity, made his breath uneven.
Luca stepped forward, defiance in his tone. "No. We'll find another way. You said she's a fragment. There has to be something left of her soul that can be saved."
Lyra turned to him, eyes glimmering with gratitude. "You have his heart. The same foolish kindness."
Eryndor looked up, his voice low. "If I restored the seal… what happens to you?"
"I return to sleep," Lyra whispered. "Until you come again, when the seal weakens. That is our curse."
He swallowed hard. "And if I destroy it?"
Her smile faded. "Then I fade completely. The echoes would consume me, and you."
For a long moment, no one moved. The sphere above them hummed, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Luca spoke, his tone sharp. "So whatever he chooses, you both suffer."
Lyra nodded. "That is the burden of the first flame."
Eryndor took a step closer, his reflection merging with hers in the silver beneath their feet. He reached out his hand, hesitant, unsure, and for a moment, his fingers nearly brushed hers before the surface rippled.
The sphere flared with light. The chamber trembled as the runes ignited.
Luca shielded his eyes. "What's happening?"
Lyra's voice echoed, urgent. "The seal senses your indecision, it's collapsing!"
Eryndor turned to her. "Tell me how to stop it!"
Her voice cracked. "You already know how!"
The ground split, lines of light surging outward. The sanctuary groaned as the sphere began to fracture, shards spinning into the air.
Luca was thrown back, hitting a pillar with a shout. Eryndor stood his ground, the mark on his chest blazing.
He looked at Lyra, and the truth came rushing back, her face, her voice, the night he sealed the world.
He remembered her hand in his as he whispered his promise. "If I must forget, let it be so. But when the world trembles again, I'll find you."
Now, he understood.
"Lyra!" he shouted. "If I take the echoes into me, the world survives, but you vanish."
She smiled sadly, her eyes glowing. "You'll carry me with you. That's enough."
"No!" His voice broke. "I won't lose you again."
The chamber exploded with light. Silver threads rose from the pool, wrapping around his arms and chest. The mark burned, and the sphere shattered, releasing a storm of energy that filled the hall with screaming echoes.
Luca struggled to his feet. "Eryndor! Don't"
But it was too late. Eryndor reached out, grasping Lyra's hand. Their fingers met, and everything went silent. The light flared.
Then,nnothing.
Only the whisper of her voice remained, carried on the fading hum of the sanctuary.
"You've always been the light that binds the end to the beginning…"