Chapter 09: The Source

"Keep moving," Trevor said, his voice low.

Beatrice followed close behind, her sword drawn. Her breathing was steady, but Trevor could hear the tension in it. The Echoes still lingered in her mind and they lingered in his, too.

"They're not following us," Beatrice whispered.

Trevor didn't slow. "For now."

The passage eventually widened, opening into a circular chamber carved into the rock. Unlike the natural formations of the canyon, this place was deliberate. The walls were smooth and etched with spiraling runes, all converging on the center of them room. There, a massive stone altar rose from the ground, its surface cracked and pulsing faintly with dark energy.

Trevor's heart sank as he stared at it. The corruption here was thicker than ever, seeping through the air like poison. The whispers clawed his thoughts.

Beatrice stepped past him, her gaze fixed on the altar. "What is this place?"

"An origin," Trevor muttered, his voice heavy.

Beatrice glanced at him. "How do you know that?"

Trevor didn't answer. But the truth was he did know… somehow. The energy radiating from the altar was familiar, like a half-remembered dream or the echo of a voice he hadn't heard in years.

"Careful."

The word left Trevor's lip as Beatrice approached the altar, but she didn't stop. The light from her blade cast faint shadows across the runes, making them writhe and twist like living things.

"This isn't just corruption," Beatrice murmured. "It's something… older."

Trevor stepped closer, his instincts on high alert. "Don't touch it."

Beatrice nodded, but her expression remained grim. "This is where it's spreading from. I can feel it."

Trevor's gaze swept over the altar again. The cracks pulsed in slow, deliberate intervals, like the heartbeat of something vast and unseen. His eyes narrowed as they caught on something carved into the stone, words written in a language he shouldn't have understood.

But he did.

"Return to us, child of shadows. Reclaim what was lost."

Trevor's breath caught in his throat. The whispers surged louder, battering against the edges of the mind.

"You were chosen."

"No," he whispered harshly, stumbling back a step.

Beatrice turned sharply, alarm flashing in her eyes. "Trevor? What's wrong?"

Trevor shook his head, clenching his fists. "We need to leave. Now."

"Why? What did you see?"

Before Trevor could answer, the runes along the walls flared to life. Crimson light filled the chambers as the whispers became a chorus of screams, deafening and relentless.The ground trembling beneath their feet, cracks spreading outward from the altar.

"Trevor!" Beatrice shouted.

Trevor grabbed her arm, pulling her back toward the passage. "Run!"

But before they could move, the chamber erupted.

A blast of dark energy shot from the altar, knocking Trevor and Beatrice off their feet. Trevor hit the ground hard, his vision blurring as pain lanced through his skull. He forced himself up, his hand instinctively going to his sword.

The crimson light dimmed, and the air grew still. Trevor pushed himself to his feet, his body tense and ready to fight.

Then he saw him.

Ardyn stepped into the chamber, his coat trailing behind him like the shadow of a storm. His sword was already drawn, arcs of faint blue energy crackling along its edge. His expression was calm, but his eyes burned with an intensity Trevor hadn't seen before.

"Guess you didn't need our help." Trevor said his voice firm.

"You shouldn't have come here," Ardyn said, his voice echoing faintly in the vast chamber.

Trevor's eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

Ardyn stopped at the edge of the altar, his gaze sweeping over the glowing runes. "This place wasn't meant for you… or for her." He gestured faintly toward Beatrice, who was struggling to her feet. "It's older than either of you can imagine."

"Then why are you here?" Beatrice demanded, her voice sharp.

Ardyn turned to her, his expression hardening. "To stop it. Or did you think I was here for a pleasant stroll?"

Trevor stepped forward, his sword still in hand. "Stop what?"

Ardyn's gaze flicked to him, and for a moment, there was disgust in his eyes. "The same thing you're running from."

Trevor stiffened. "What do you know about me?"

Ardyn smiled faintly, though there was no warmth in it. "More than you'd like me to."

Before Trevor could respond, the altar flared again. A deep, rumbling growl reverberated through the chamber, shaking the walls.

"It's awake." he said, his tone grim.

The cracks in the altar widened, spilling black mist that pooled the floor like ink. A figure began to rise from the darkness, a towering, formless shape with burning red eyes and limbs that stretched unnaturally. Its presence was suffocating, the corruption pouring off it like waves of heat.

"The shadow has returned," Ardyn murmured.

Trevor's knuckles whitened around his sword hilt. "What is that?"

Ardyn didn't answer. He turned to Trevor and Beatrice, his voice sharp. "You want to live?" Then listen to me. Keep that thing contained while I destroy the altar."

"Why you?" Beatrice frowned.

"Cause I'm the only one here who can use aura, my lighting." Ardyn smirked.

Trevor glared at him. "And we're just supposed to trust you?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Ardyn shot back.

Before Trevor should argue, the creature lunged.