The final descent into the subterranean hall felt less like a walk and more like a slow immersion into a dream composed of half-memory and half-nightmare. Aeryn stepped forward first, guiding the others by the faint radiance of his conjured glyph-lights. The air thickened the deeper they went, becoming dense with a texture reminiscent of old magic left sealed for centuries. Even the Echoflame torches planted along the descending tunnel were ancient—burning with white-blue fire yet producing no heat, their shadows bending in unnatural directions.
Aeryn's senses sharpened with every step. Not from fear, but from the distinct awareness that the System within him stirred at the energies permeating the stone walls.
[System Notice: Subterranean anomaly detected. Origin: Unknown Construct.]
[Analysis… 43%]
He ignored the message for now. He needed his mind steady, not hooked on words written in cold light.
Aeryn halted at a widening of the tunnel that opened into a circular hall. The ceiling rose high enough for even a giant to stand without stooping. Pillars carved of smooth obsidian surrounded the chamber's edges, each etched with runes that resembled eyes, tears, and fractal spirals.
The moment he entered, the air trembled softly.
Lysa whispered behind him, "It feels like walking into a memory."
Caldrin exhaled deeply. "No… more like walking into someone's regret."
Aeryn approached the center cautiously. The floor here bore a vast seal—a mural of concentric rings, each carved with movements of strange beings. Some resembled elves, others shadows, and some things that defied all known lore. The mural pulsed once with a faint luminescence when he stepped within its boundary.
The System flickered again.
[System Notice: Ancient Astral Resonance detected. Synchronization recommended.]
"Not yet," Aeryn muttered under his breath. "Not until I understand what this is."
He knelt to examine the runes on the mural's inner ring. They were unlike any known elven script. More angular. More fragmented. As if carved by someone whose hands trembled, or whose mind was fraying.
Lysa kneeled beside him. "I don't recognize this language."
"Neither do I," Aeryn replied. "But it feels… personal."
"How can runes feel personal?" Caldrin asked, walking closer.
Aeryn didn't answer immediately. He raised his hand and traced one of the angular symbols. A sudden surge of cold ether shot through him, creeping from his fingers into his chest.
His eyes widened.
Images flickered behind them. Not memories of his own, but echoes of something older.
A vast battlefield under a violet sky.
White-haired figures chanting.
A shattering star.
A mirror-like surface caving inward.
A scream that was never heard, only remembered.
He jerked his hand away.
Lysa steadied him. "Aeryn! What happened?"
He controlled his breathing. "They aren't just symbols. They're… remnants."
Caldrin's expression tightened. "Remnants of what?"
Aeryn stared at the mural, the images still lingering in his mind like ghostly fingerprints. "Remnants of a catastrophe."
Before they could question him further, the mural pulsed again. The runes began to brighten, one by one, until the entire chamber hummed.
Caldrin drew his weapon. Lysa raised her bow.
Aeryn stepped forward with steady determination.
"Lower your weapons," he said. "It's reacting to presence, not hostility."
"But it could be a trap," Lysa said sharply.
He gave her a calm look. "If it wanted us dead, it would have collapsed the entire hall the moment we stepped in."
Caldrin clicked his tongue. "Can't argue with that logic. Still feels wrong."
Aeryn moved toward the very center of the mural. When he reached it, the runes aligned, forming a spiraling pattern that pointed directly beneath his feet.
A small circular depression lay there, faintly glowing.
"What is this place?" Lysa murmured.
"A seal," Aeryn said. "But not one meant to imprison something dangerous."
Caldrin raised a brow. "Then what is it meant to hold?"
Aeryn placed his hand above the depression. "A memory. Or a message."
As his palm hovered closer, the System surged violently.
[Warning: Unidentified resonance seeks partial synchronization with Host.]
[Would you like to proceed?]
[Yes / No]
Aeryn whispered in thought, Show me the consequences.
[Projecting outcome…]
A brief vision flashed—Aeryn collapsed on the floor, shaking, the chamber's lights flickering violently. Another vision—Aeryn standing tall, eyes shining silver, fragments of ancient knowledge drifting around him like stars.
Then the projection ended.
Aeryn made his decision.
"Proceed."
[Synchronization Initiated.]
A sound like a thousand threads snapping filled his ears. The mural's rings spun, not physically, but within the fabric of reality. The runes lit in cascading waves, layering each other in patterns too complex to track.
The depression beneath his hand rose slightly, becoming a crystalline disk. It cracked open, releasing a single shard of shimmering ether shaped like a teardrop.
The shard floated upward.
Lysa gasped. "Aetherial condensation… but this structure—"
"It's not normal," Caldrin finished, stepping back warily.
The shard hovered before Aeryn's eyes. Then, without warning, it shot into his chest.
He staggered but did not fall.
The chamber exploded with white radiance.
His mind plunged into a vast expanse of black lacquered with thin lines of light—like pathways, corridors, or veins of the world itself. In this place, neither time nor sound existed. Only patterns.
Then a voice whispered.
Soft. Aged. Tired.
"Chosen by the Hollow Star… your path is long delayed."
Aeryn's heart pounded. He tried to speak but found no words.
"Remember this truth: the fall was not an ending. It was a beginning we could not witness."
Images burst across his vision.
Towering elven figures cloaked in pale luminescence.
A celestial rift spiraling open.
A city shattering into dust and screams.
A sealed chamber deep beneath a dying forest.
And a lone figure placing a shard into a crystalline socket—
the same shard embedded in Aeryn's chest now.
"Recover the fragments," the voice whispered. "Or the void will reclaim what little remains."
Aeryn felt himself pulled backward—hard.
He crashed into his own body with a sharp gasp.
The light collapsed around him.
When the world returned, he was kneeling, hand pressed to the floor, breath shallow.
Lysa held his shoulders. "Aeryn! Aeryn, look at me!"
Caldrin stood guard with a grim expression. "You were out for too long."
But Aeryn didn't answer immediately. His eyes stared at the mural beneath him—and saw it differently now.
The runes were no longer foreign.
They were familiar. Faded echoes of a language buried within the deepest bones of elven ancestry.
"Aeryn," Lysa repeated softly. "Are you hurt?"
He met her gaze, steadying his voice. "I'm alright."
But inside, he could still feel the shard pulsing slowly in his chest—waiting.
Caldrin crossed his arms. "So. What in all the fallen spirits did you just do?"
Aeryn rose to his feet. "I synchronized with something ancient. A remnant from a forgotten era."
Lysa swallowed nervously. "And what did it show you?"
"That we're not the first to stand here. And whatever destroyed that age… still lingers."
They exchanged uneasy looks.
A low rumble echoed through the chamber. Not from the mural, but from the tunnel behind them. Dust drifted from the ceiling.
Caldrin cursed. "We triggered something."
"No," Aeryn said as he focused his heightened perception. "Something else is moving. Something awakened by the resonance."
Lysa's hand went to her bow. "How many?"
Aeryn closed his eyes briefly, feeling the faint tremor in the air. "Three… no, four presences. Heavy, distorted. They're coming fast."
Caldrin tightened his grip on his weapon. "Just how distorted?"
Aeryn's voice was low. "The kind that shouldn't exist outside sealed chambers."
The tremor grew louder.
Then, from the darkness of the tunnel, an inhuman growl echoed.
A shape crawled into view—twisted, elongated, its limbs bent at unnatural angles, its eyes glowing like broken fragments of dying stars. It resembled a creature trapped between reality and nightmare.
Lysa's voice was tight. "That's… not any beast I know."
More shadows followed behind it.
Aeryn stepped forward, Ether coiling around his fingertips like threads of moonlight.
"No matter what they are," he said, "they're drawn to the resonance, and they won't stop."
Caldrin smirked despite the tension. "Finally, something we can actually hit."
The creatures screeched, charging forward.
Aeryn raised his hand.
Ether surged.
The shard in his chest pulsed sharply.
His mind expanded—not painfully, but with clarity, precision, and frightening intensity. The world slowed. The runes under his feet glowed faintly, resonating with his presence.
He wove Ether into a lance of pale light and hurled it.
The first creature evaporated into motes of dust.
Lysa released three arrows in rapid succession. Each shot struck the creatures with perfect timing, pushing them back.
Caldrin barreled forward, cutting through another in a clean, brutal arc.
But the fourth creature lunged from the side—jaws gaping wide.
Aeryn turned sharply and raised a barrier of shimmering ether. The beast collided with it, shrieking as its form dissolved against the defensive magic.
Silence slowly settled.
The last creature fell into dust that shimmered before fading.
Caldrin spat to the side. "That better be the last of them."
Aeryn doubted it. But he did not voice the thought.
Lysa looked at the mural. "This place is too active. Too alive. We need answers, Aeryn."
He nodded. "And we'll find them. But not here. This chamber was only the first thread."
Caldrin sheathed his blade. "Then where to next?"
Aeryn looked toward the tunnel that led deeper into the ruins.
"The shard showed me glimpses. There are others like it—hidden across Elyndor. If we don't gather them, whatever destroyed that forgotten age will rise again."
Lysa inhaled sharply. "Then our real journey begins now."
Aeryn stepped ahead, resolve firm.
"We go deeper."
And the ruins answered with a distant whisper, as if acknowledging the return of someone long awaited.