Chapter 15: Echoes of the Forsaken

The air remained heavy with the remnants of energy left behind by the guardian's collapse. Elliot could still feel the phantom pulse of its power resonating through his bones, as though the battle had carved something indelible into his very essence. He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around the newly acquired shard. This one felt different—heavier, denser, as if it carried more than just raw power. The whispers that once trickled through his mind in gentle murmurs had grown louder, more insistent. They spoke in fragmented words and ancient tongues, weaving together a story he couldn't yet decipher.

Seris knelt beside him, wiping a streak of sweat and dust from her forehead. "That was… more than I expected." Her voice was steady, but the exhaustion beneath it was unmistakable. She glanced at the shard in Elliot's grasp, her brows furrowing. "And that one feels… off. Like it's carrying something it shouldn't."

Elliot nodded. He felt it too. It wasn't just raw energy—it was knowledge. An imprint of something long forgotten.

The cavern around them remained eerily still. The walls, once alive with shifting light and motion, had settled into an uneasy quiet. The altar before them, its once-radiant symbols now dimmed, seemed to be waiting, as if expecting them to make the next move.

"Do we take a moment to rest, or move on?" Elliot asked, still catching his breath. His body ached from the battle, but something in him pushed forward, an insatiable drive whispering that time was against them.

Seris studied him, eyes narrowing as though weighing his resilience. Then she stood, sheathing her dagger. "If we rest, something else might find us. We move."

Elliot sighed but didn't argue. The fight had left them vulnerable, and he doubted they'd get another chance to recover in peace. He nodded and followed Seris as they stepped beyond the shattered remains of the guardian, making their way through the vast chamber toward an archway of towering obsidian pillars.

As they crossed the threshold, a sudden wave of energy rippled through the air. The cavern behind them shimmered, and the entrance collapsed into darkness, sealing off their path back.

"No turning back now," Seris muttered.

Elliot barely had time to respond before the whispers in his mind surged forward, their voices rising in unison.

"The path of the Keybearer unfolds."

He stumbled, gripping his head as the voices twisted into something more tangible—memories not his own. He saw glimpses of towering cities swallowed by shadow, of warriors clad in obsidian armor, wielding weapons that pulsed with eerie violet light. A great war, one that fractured the very fabric of the realm. And in its center—

The shards.

Each one a fragment of something whole, something unimaginably powerful. A key, a weapon, or perhaps something far worse.

"Elliot!" Seris's voice snapped him out of it, her firm grip on his arm grounding him. His vision cleared, and he found himself trembling.

"What did you see?" she asked, voice low.

He swallowed hard. "History… or maybe a warning."

Seris's gaze lingered on him for a moment before she let go. "Then we need to move faster."

They pressed onward, descending deeper into the ruins. The air grew colder, and the walls were now lined with inscriptions—etched stories of those who had come before. Some depicted heroes wielding shards of light, standing against monstrous beings wreathed in shadow. Others showed the fall of entire civilizations, their skies fractured, their lands crumbling into nothingness.

Elliot traced his fingers along the markings. "Whoever left these… they wanted someone to remember."

Seris exhaled sharply. "Or to warn whoever came next."

A low rumble echoed through the corridors ahead, cutting their conversation short. They exchanged glances before quickening their pace, emerging into a vast, open hall. Unlike the previous chamber, this one was lined with colossal statues, each depicting a figure cloaked in regal armor, their faces obscured by masks of stone. At the far end, an altar—similar to the one before, yet different in its construction—stood bathed in pale, flickering light.

Elliot stepped closer, and the moment his foot touched the altar's base, the room came alive.

The statues groaned, their ancient limbs cracking as they began to move.

Seris cursed under her breath. "Of course."

The first statue lunged forward, its stone blade cutting through the air. Elliot barely dodged, rolling aside as the ground where he once stood shattered. Seris was already in motion, weaving between the massive constructs with inhuman speed, her dagger flashing in the dim light.

Elliot steadied himself, raising the shard. It pulsed in response, recognizing the new threat. He focused, channeling the energy through his arm, and with a thrust of his palm, a surge of golden light burst forth, slamming into the closest statue. The force sent it staggering, cracks forming along its torso.

Seris took the opening, leaping onto its back and driving her blade into the fissure. The statue let out a hollow, echoing wail before crumbling to dust.

But the others were still advancing.

Elliot clenched his teeth. "We need to disable them all, or they'll keep coming."

Seris nodded. "Then let's end this."

The battle ignited once more, the room filled with the clash of stone and steel, with echoes of history and the unrelenting march of fate.

And somewhere, in the depths of the ruins, something watched.