Echoes of a Forgotten War

The sun was rising over the ruins, casting long golden beams through the cracks in the ancient stone. The symbols on the ground still faintly glowed beneath Tharion's touch, though their energy was beginning to fade. His heart pounded—not from exhaustion, but from the overwhelming rush of memories he couldn't fully grasp.

Ceyla stood beside him, arms crossed, her expression tense. "What did you see?"

Tharion hesitated. How could he explain what had just flashed through his mind? A war unlike any he had ever fought. A world engulfed in golden flames. And a presence—something, or someone—standing at the center of it all, radiating power beyond comprehension.

"I don't know," he admitted. "It felt like... a memory, but not mine."

Ceyla frowned. "If it wasn't yours, whose was it?"

"I intend to find out."

The Ruins' Secret

As the two continued to examine the ruins, Ceyla knelt beside one of the crumbling pillars, brushing dirt away from another carved inscription. Unlike the symbols on the ground, this one was written in a language she could read.

"This says... 'The Keepers' Trial,'" she muttered. "And something about the 'Veil of Fate.'"

Tharion narrowed his eyes. "The Keepers?"

Ceyla shook her head. "No idea. But 'trial' doesn't sound promising."

The moment she said those words, the ruins trembled. Dust cascaded from the stones, and a deep rumbling echoed from beneath them. Tharion instinctively pulled Ceyla back, gripping his sword as cracks spread across the ground.

Then, without warning, a section of the stone floor collapsed inward, revealing a hidden passage beneath the ruins. A staircase descended into darkness, the air seeping out of it chillingly cold.

Ceyla cursed under her breath. "Well. That's ominous."

Tharion exhaled slowly, stepping closer to the gaping hole. A faint blue glow pulsed from deep within, beckoning. Whatever lay below, it was connected to his visions. He could feel it.

"We have to go down there," he said.

Ceyla gave him a look of disbelief. "We really don't."

He turned to her, his expression resolute. "I need answers. If these ruins are tied to my power, then this might be the only way to understand what's happening to me."

She let out a long sigh. "I was afraid you'd say that."

Into the Depths

The descent was slow and cautious. The deeper they went, the colder the air became, carrying the scent of stone long untouched by the outside world. Their footsteps echoed against the narrow stone walls, and the faint blue glow ahead pulsed like the heartbeat of something ancient.

After what felt like an eternity, they reached the bottom—a vast underground chamber, lined with towering stone statues. The statues were humanoid but elongated, their faces blank and unsettling. In the center of the chamber stood a pedestal, upon which rested an orb of swirling blue light.

Tharion stepped toward it, drawn by an unseen force. The closer he got, the more he felt the energy pulsing within his own body responding to it.

"Tharion," Ceyla warned. "This place doesn't feel right."

"I know," he said, but he couldn't stop himself. He reached out, his fingertips brushing the surface of the orb—

A blinding light erupted from it, and suddenly, the world around him vanished.

The Vision

When Tharion opened his eyes, he was no longer in the chamber.

He stood on a battlefield, surrounded by colossal warriors clad in radiant golden armor. The air smelled of blood and burning magic. Above him, the sky was split apart by lightning and fire as gods and monsters clashed in the heavens.

At the center of it all, a man stood—a towering figure wreathed in golden flames. His presence was overwhelming, his eyes glowing with the same light that now coursed through Tharion's veins.

"You are not ready," the man's voice boomed, shaking the very earth beneath Tharion's feet. "But you must be."

Tharion tried to speak, but the words would not come.

The golden warrior extended his hand, and for the briefest moment, Tharion felt an unimaginable power surge through him. His veins burned with raw energy, his vision filled with the truth of a world long forgotten.

And then—

Darkness.

Back to Reality

Tharion gasped as he was thrown backward, landing hard on the stone floor of the underground chamber. Ceyla was kneeling beside him, shaking his shoulders.

"Tharion! What the hell just happened?"

He blinked, disoriented, still feeling the remnants of the power in his body. His breathing was ragged, but his mind was clearer than it had ever been.

"I saw him," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ceyla frowned. "Who?"

"The one who gave me this power." Tharion clenched his fists. "And he's waiting for me."

Ceyla's concern deepened. "Waiting... where?"

Tharion turned toward the now-dimmed orb on the pedestal.

"The gods' battlefield."

And with those words, he knew that whatever came next would change everything.