The sun dipped low behind the towering cliffs as the group moved deeper into the crag-marked valley. This path, unlike the first one through the Whispering Gorge, hummed with quiet energy. Liam felt it with every step, like the ground itself was pulsing—heartbeat-like. There were no ruins here, no spirits that whispered of grief. Only silence. And yet, it was the most unsettling of all.
"This is different," Nyra muttered, eyes scanning the rocky horizon. "No creatures. No traps. Just… stillness."
Kael nodded grimly. "That's what worries me."
Aeris walked ahead of them, her fingers grazing the crystal that hung at her neck—gift from the realmwalker long ago. It shimmered faintly in response, as if it recognized the energy that lingered here.
"I've felt this before," she said, voice low. "Not here, but… in the moments when I used to question who I really was. This place... it reflects truth. Or forces it."
Nyra stiffened. "What do you mean?"
"Everyone who walks this path," Aeris said, turning slightly, "will be confronted with something they've buried."
Kael gave a short laugh, bitter. "We're all running from something, huh?"
Liam remained quiet. But he felt it already. The pull. A pressure behind his eyes, in the back of his skull. Like something ancient was waiting to speak to him—not in words, but in memories.
As they pressed forward, the terrain shifted. Grass returned to the earth, softening the jagged rock. Trees sprouted where there had been only stone moments before. Their bark shimmered with silvery sheen, their leaves translucent, catching the last of the fading light like stained glass.
"Are we still in the same place?" Kael whispered.
"No," Aeris replied. "We've stepped into the veil of echoes. A trial woven into the path."
Suddenly, the ground beneath Liam's feet quaked. Not violently—but enough to stagger him. He reached out, but there was no one beside him.
The others were gone.
He spun around. "Nyra? Kael? Aeris?"
Silence.
He stood in a clearing now. The silvery trees had vanished, replaced by towering black pillars of obsidian, each one humming like a tuning fork. The air felt thick.
And then, he saw her.
Elira.
She stood a few paces ahead, her cloak rippling despite the stillness. But her eyes—they weren't the warm gaze from his visions. These eyes were sharp, hollow.
"Liam Gray," she said. "You came looking for truth. Are you ready for it?"
He stepped forward. "Are you real?"
She didn't answer. Instead, the obsidian behind her cracked—and a memory poured forth. Liam as a child, clutching a book in a dusty attic, whispering to himself as thunder roared outside. Alone. Forgotten.
Another crack. His mother's voice, telling him dreams weren't for boys like him. That magic was a lie. That he had to grow up and stop chasing the wind.
Another. His father's angry hands. The night he ran.
"No…" Liam staggered back. "This isn't—"
"These are the shards that shaped you," Elira said, stepping closer. "If you can't face them, you'll never wield the power the fragments hold."
She lifted her hand.
A blade formed—not of steel, but of light and shadow twisted together. She pointed it at him.
"Fight the lies… or they will define you."
Liam's hand rose on instinct. The spellbook fragment on his chest pulsed violently—and a shield of flame burst before him.
The first strike came fast. Her blade slammed into his shield, sparks flying. He pushed back, stepping into the flame, letting it coat his limbs. The second strike he parried with raw instinct, casting a gust of wind to knock her back.
But she didn't fall.
She moved like water, flowing around his counter and slicing across his leg. Pain. Real.
"You're not Elira!" he shouted.
"No," she said simply. "I am the truth that waits in her shadow."
The fight escalated. Liam ducked, dodged, cast a bolt of lightning into the sky that shattered the obsidian around them. Memories fell like broken glass, slicing his skin as they rained.
Finally, breath ragged, he summoned both fragments. Fire and wind roared into one. A vortex. He drove it forward—not at the vision, but at the obsidian behind her.
The last pillar shattered.
The woman dissolved.
And he was alone again.
The forest returned. Aeris stood beside him, her hand gently on his shoulder. "You passed."
He looked at her. "Was that… her?"
"Maybe." Her eyes were sad. "Or maybe it was you."
Nyra and Kael appeared moments later, shaken. Kael had blood on his knuckles. Nyra's face was pale, eyes red.
"Let's never walk that path again," she muttered.
They moved forward again in silence.
Then a figure stepped from the woods. Hooded. Armored.
Kael raised his blade, but Aeris held up a hand.
The figure lowered their hood.
He was older. Worn. But his eyes were unmistakable.
"Calen," Aeris whispered. "You're alive."
The man smiled faintly. "You took your time, little spark."
Liam's heart raced. "You know Elira?"
Calen nodded. "I was one of her protectors."
He looked at them, his eyes darkening.
"And if you're here, it means the others are waking. The war has already begun."