Chapter 4: The Echoes of the Past 2

---

---

The distant rumbling grew louder as the ground beneath Aeron's feet trembled. He could feel the vibrations reverberate up through his boots, every nerve in his body screaming for him to run. His senses, sharpened by the fear and the urgency of the situation, screamed at him that something was coming, something vast and incomprehensible.

Aeron's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. His first real encounter in Eldrin's Veil, and it wasn't going to be an easy one.

He had felt the stirrings of an ancient presence earlier—an unsettling sensation that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. Now, the feeling had solidified into something undeniable. Whatever was coming, it was big. Big in a way that made even the still landscape seem small, insignificant. Even the trees, with their trunks twisting upward into the overcast sky, felt like silent witnesses to whatever fate was unfolding.

Aeron's breath came in ragged gasps, and he realized he hadn't even bothered to take stock of his surroundings. The sheer enormity of what was about to unfold had swallowed his focus.

The world around him felt still, as if it were waiting. Waiting for the inevitable.

A sudden crack split the air, sharp and jarring. It was the sound of stone breaking, but it was far more profound than that—like the fabric of the world itself had just been torn open. Aeron's body tensed involuntarily, and instinctively, he took a step back.

The ground cracked.

A deep fissure appeared before him, black energy swirling in the gap like something ancient and unknowable was pulling at the very foundation of the land. It grew, expanding, threatening to swallow everything in its path. Aeron's gaze shot downward, and he saw the first hint of what was emerging from the depths—glowing tendrils of pale, ethereal light rising from the fissure.

A gust of wind swept through the area, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Then, it came.

A massive form rose from the crack, and Aeron's mouth went dry. It was as if the very shadows had come to life. The being before him was massive—its body adorned in dark, rune-covered armor that seemed to flicker and shift with an unnatural glow. The creature's size was staggering, towering at least three times taller than Aeron. Its form was vague at first, indistinct, as though the shadows were still struggling to form a coherent shape.

But as the figure solidified, Aeron could make out the outline of what appeared to be an ancient warrior—a towering figure, draped in dark robes, its body encased in black, metallic armor. Its helmet was shaped like a twisted skull, its face obscured, but its eyes... its eyes shone with a cold, ancient light.

There was no warmth in its gaze. No mercy.

Aeron's pulse quickened, the beat thudding in his ears as he faced the unthinkable. The being loomed over him, its glowing eyes narrowing in what could only be described as an expression of silent judgment.

The air felt heavier as the armored figure straightened, its massive gauntlet reaching out, palm up, as though presenting itself to the world. To Aeron.

"You have awakened."

Aeron's heart skipped a beat. The voice that echoed through the air was deep and resonant, as though it were not just a sound, but a force that reverberated through his very bones.

Aeron's mouth went dry, but his wits quickly returned. He forced out a dry laugh, his hand still clutching his sword tightly. "Uh, yeah, I got that much. You know, the whole 'being in an ancient power's presence' thing, a real classic entrance."

The figure remained silent. Its head tilted slightly, as though it was considering Aeron's words. Had it just… paused? Was this some sort of trick?

Aeron couldn't quite tell, but it was clear he was no longer facing some simple monster. This wasn't just another enemy in the game—it was something different. The air itself seemed to thrum with ancient power, filling the space with an electric tension. And yet, despite everything, despite the overwhelming odds stacked against him, Aeron's mind was racing with questions.

"So, uh," Aeron continued, trying to break the heavy silence with a touch of humor, "I'm guessing you're not the welcoming committee?"

The armored figure's eyes blazed for a moment, and for a second, Aeron thought it might strike. But instead, it simply spoke, its tone colder than before. "I am no committee. I am an ancient being. The Watcher of Realms. You have crossed the threshold of awakening, and now you must face what lies beyond."

Aeron frowned. "Okay, well, that's a little… dramatic, don't you think? Watcher of Realms? Is that like a job title or a title of doom? Because I swear to you, I didn't sign up for any of this."

The figure's expression was unreadable, but the air around it shifted, as if it was contemplating Aeron's casualness. Did Aeron just make a joke at the expense of an ancient being?

"You mock the ancient forces at your peril, mortal." The Watcher's voice dropped to an even lower register, the weight of the words nearly pressing down on Aeron's chest. It took a slow step forward, its footfall resounding like thunder.

"Okay, okay," Aeron said quickly, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make light of it. I'm just a little… overwhelmed, you know?"

The Watcher paused again, and Aeron almost swore he saw a flicker of something—annoyance? Amusement? He couldn't tell.

"This is no mere jest, mortal. You have awakened to something that few ever will. The powers of the world are now yours to command—or they will be, should you survive the trials ahead."

"Ah, the trials again. Yeah, I'm starting to see a pattern here. Trials. Tests. Quests. Do you people ever get creative with your threats?" Aeron asked, crossing his arms. "I mean, seriously. 'Trial of Destiny?' 'Trial of the Forgotten Flame?' I can't be the only one who thinks this is a little overdone."

The Watcher's eyes narrowed, but to Aeron's surprise, it didn't attack. Instead, it gave a slow, almost contemplative nod.

"Perhaps... you are not as foolish as you appear." The figure's voice was softer now, the cold edge replaced with something more... curious. "Very well. You will face the trials. But remember this, mortal—no one has ever passed them without sacrifice."

Aeron cocked an eyebrow. "Sacrifice? You mean, like, sacrifice sacrifice? I'm not sure I'm ready to part with, like, my favorite gaming chair or my comfy socks for that." He motioned to his feet, pointing to the boots he'd equipped in-game. "Trust me, these are important."

The Watcher's eyes flared once more, and for a moment, Aeron was sure he'd pushed it too far. But then the being turned away, its shadowy form receding into the darkness.

"You have your path. The first trial will find you soon enough."

Aeron stood there, watching the figure disappear, the tension in the air gradually releasing as the presence faded. He let out a slow breath, his heartbeat gradually returning to normal.

"Well, that was… something," he muttered to himself.

He looked around, scanning the environment for any more signs of impending danger. But for now, there was nothing—only the empty, silent land stretching before him. The trees, twisted and leafless, seemed to lean toward him, as if waiting for his next move. The world was silent again.

But something had changed.

Aeron knew his journey had just begun. And though he was no closer to understanding the full scope of the power he had awakened, one thing was certain: whatever lay ahead, he was determined to face it—with humor, resilience, and the belief that somehow, he would survive it all.

Last Chapter Next Chapter