WHISPERS IN THE DARK

Chapter 11

The cold burn of the black stone still lingered in Aya's palm. Her breath was unsteady, her pulse hammering against her ribs. The vision she had seen, herself, standing in a battlefield of ruins, wielding terrifying power, unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

Was it a warning? A prophecy? Or something worse, a fate already set in motion?

The Silent Watchers remained motionless, their presence pressing against her mind like a silent judgment. Idris, sensing her distress, tightened his grip on her arm. "Aya. What did you see?"

Aya swallowed, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "I saw… destruction. And I was at the center of it."

Idris frowned, his expression darkening. "That doesn't mean it will happen."

But Aya wasn't so sure.

The lead Watcher tilted their head slightly, their veiled face unreadable. Then, without another word, they turned, and the shadows swallowed them whole.

One by one, the Watchers vanished, their forms dissipating into the darkness of the ruined corridors.

Aya exhaled sharply. It wasn't over. Not yet.

The masked figure, who had stood silent throughout the exchange, finally spoke. "You have been given the stone. That means the Watchers have acknowledged you."

Aya's fingers curled around the smooth black relic. "Acknowledged me… or cursed me?"

The masked figure's silence was answer enough.

She turned to Idris, searching his face. "We can't leave yet. There's more to this than I thought."

Idris sighed. "I figured you'd say that."

The masked figure inclined their head. "If you stay, you must be prepared. The oasis has woken, but its secrets are not yours alone. Others will come, some seeking knowledge. Others…"

Aya finished the sentence for them. "Seeking power."

The figure nodded.

A cold wind swept through the oasis, rustling the golden leaves overhead. Aya felt it in her bones, the storm was coming.

Two Days Later

The oasis had changed.

Where there had once been ruins, now there was life, ancient structures partially restored by the magic that pulsed through the waters. The golden trees stood taller, the air richer with energy.

But the changes were not all comforting.

Aya had spent the last two days deciphering the obelisk's inscriptions, yet new symbols continued to appear and shift, as if the oasis itself was writing its own story. At night, she heard whispers carried on the wind, voices speaking in a language she almost, but not quite, understood.

Something old was stirring.

And she wasn't the only one who had noticed.

Idris entered the chamber where she had been studying, his jaw tight. "Aya. We have a problem."

She straightened immediately. "What is it?"

He hesitated, then said two words that made her blood run cold.

"We're not alone."

Aya grabbed her cloak and followed him outside.

At the far edge of the oasis, where the sands met the first pools of water, three figures stood.

They were clad in desert robes, their faces partially obscured by hoods, but even from a distance, Aya could feel the tension rolling off them.

Strangers. Outsiders.

Aya's grip tightened on the black stone in her palm. Who were they? And how had they found this place?

She and Idris exchanged a glance. Then, together, they approached the intruders.

The tallest of the three figures stepped forward, lowering their hood.

Aya's breath caught.

The man was not a common wanderer. His dark hair was streaked with silver, his eyes sharp as polished steel. His clothing bore the insignia of a scholarly order Aya had only read about in forbidden texts—the Order of the Eternal Archive.

A group of scholars and explorers known for seeking out lost knowledge at any cost.

The man studied Aya with an unreadable expression before finally speaking.

"So," he murmured. "The Shaded Oasis truly exists."

Aya's pulse spiked.

They weren't just wanderers.

They were hunters of knowledge.

And if they had come this far… they weren't leaving empty-handed.