Asvard didn't know how deep he had gone. The Maw had no end, just turns and tunnels that twisted like veins. The air was thick, Heavy, But not dead. Something was breathing with him, like the Maw had lungs. Like it watched every step he took.
His body ached. Not from wounds. From change, His nails were darker now. His skin felt hot, like something was cooking underneath it. He could feel power but also something wrong. Like a hunger that wasn't his, the unnatural changes left him with a loud mind.
He didn't speak. Not because he was afraid. He just didn't want to hear his own voice. Not here. Not where everything whispered.
There were no lights. Just the glow of red cracks in the walls. They pulsed slowly, like they were alive. And the deeper he went, the more he started to hear things.
Voices. But not loud. Not clear. They weren't trying to talk. They were... remembering. Like the Maw held memories of things long dead.
A scream echoed once. Far away. Not human. Not anything Asvard had ever heard before. But he didn't run.
He walked. Always forward. Always deeper.
Then he saw it.
A wall made of glass ,thick, cloudy and of countless handprints , small and big , some enough big to say they shouldn't even exist.
Behind all of these , he saw it.
He stepped closer , it moved
It wasn't clear , it was like a shadow , a figure with no face or body , a shadowy figure.
Then it asked "why are you here, little fire?."
Asvards mouth all dried up, he didn't speak up at first, "i would want to know too , but I'm not going back without something"
It laughed silently but cold.
"You already have something. The Maw listens. Every breath. Every step. It doesn't forget."
Asvard felt his heart pounding. It wasn't fear nor excitement. He knew the thing behind the glass had what he needed. It was ancient.
"What is this place?." he asked.
"The place before the end. The mouth that remembers. The grave where kings left their names."
That didn't make sense. But it didn't have to. Asvard wasn't here for sense. He was here to survive. To grow.
He pressed his hand to the glass. It was ice cold.
"Will I die in here?"
The thing behind the glass moved again. Slower this time.
"Everyone dies. Not everyone changes."
Then the glass cracked. Not shattered. Just a single, deep line from top to bottom.
And the thing vanished.
Asvard stood there for a while. Breathing. Thinking.
Then he turned. And walked on.
Somewhere in the Maw, something had woke up. Something Ancient. Not completely but enough to notice.
Krelith who's far above got twitched. He chuckled. "He's getting closer."
"Much closer."
The path twisted. Time didn't work right down here. Asvard felt his body growing tired, but it wasn't the kind of tired he knew. It was like his soul needed rest. Like every second in the Maw took something from him.
Then the whispers came back. But this time, they weren't random. They spoke in pieces.
"The chain... broken... the mark... gone... the ash sleeps."
He kept moving.
He saw a room. Wider than the tunnels. With a throne in the middle.Cracked. Ruined. Strange symbols carved onto it. ,
Surrounded by blackened statues. 12 of them. Shaped like warriors but none were humans. One had blades for arms, Some , One had wings , One had no face but just a void figure.
Asvard stepped forward. Something has called him. He resisted. He stood there and the ground shattered. Barely able to dodge he backed down. Mist filled the chamber. Cold. Thick. Appeared a figure standing infront of the throne. Pointing at him. Then disappeared, along the mist.
The Whispers stopped
Asvard knew he wasn't alone in the Maw and whatever it is..... It may be still watching.
Somewhere above, Krelith stood still as the wind moved through the ruins.
He stared into the dark and said coldly, "He survived."
He looked out over the scorched stone and whispered to himself.
"Maybe... maybe he really is the one. Or maybe he'll just feed the next."
Then he laughed. And the ruins laughed with him.
Asvard kept walking. Suddenly the walls started shifting not in a rush but gently as if they were reacting to him. A strange symbol glowed in his hand. Not complete. Something dull. It pulsed the same rhythm as the Maw.
Someone, no. Something whispered to him in his mind.
"Cursed? Or to be cursed?."
"Doesn't matter" Asvard muttered "I'll survive no matter what. NO.MATTER.WHAT."
(To be continued...)