Chapter 11: Beneath the Breaking sky

Chapter 11: Beneath the Breaking Sky

The monastery had fallen into an unnatural silence since Lin Xian had stepped through the threshold of the dreamgate. The air felt thick, suffused with the lingering echoes of forgotten realms. Outside, the wind whispered a warning, and the mountain seemed to sigh with the burden of the events unfolding atop it.

Lin Xian had gone into the heart of the dreamgate—a place between worlds—and Mei and Serakai remained behind. Neither of them knew what awaited him, only that the rift he sought to close was not a mere crack in the fabric of reality, but a tear that threatened to unravel everything. His journey would take him into the depths of his own soul and the abyssal mysteries that had haunted him since his powers first manifested.

Mei sat at the edge of the chamber, the weight of the silence pressing heavily on her. Her fingers traced the pattern of the obsidian charm Lin Xian had given her, now cracked and frayed. It was a symbol of their connection, of the promise they had made to each other. But now, it felt like a relic of a different time. Would Lin Xian come back from whatever darkness he had entered? Or would he be lost to the very thing he had once fought?

Serakai stood by the window, watching the shifting sky. The storm that had been brewing for days was finally upon them. Black clouds churned, swirling like the breath of some vast creature awakening. The air was thick with the promise of destruction, but Serakai knew the storm was not just external. Something within the monastery trembled with the same power, the same ancient force that had bound Lin Xian to his fate.

"He's in there," Mei whispered, her voice barely a breath. "I know it. I feel him."

Serakai did not turn from the window, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "He's not just fighting for himself anymore," she said quietly. "Whatever he's becoming, whatever he's awakening, it's something far greater than all of us. And that—" she paused, choosing her words carefully, "—that may be what saves him or destroys him."

Mei's heart ached at the thought. She had watched Lin Xian struggle with his powers, with the darkness growing inside him. But she had never seen him more lost than he was now, standing on the precipice of something unrecognizable. Would he fall? Or would he rise?

The sound of footsteps echoed through the stone corridors, sharp against the stillness. Mei looked up to see Serakai approach, her expression unreadable.

"Have you felt it?" Mei asked, her voice trembling.

Serakai nodded. "I felt the shift when he stepped through. The air grew colder, the very earth seemed to hold its breath. He's not the same person who left this room. Whatever he's seen, it's already changing him. But there's still time."

"Time for what?" Mei's voice broke. "How much longer can we wait? What if—what if he doesn't come back?"

Serakai's eyes softened, and for the first time, there was a flicker of vulnerability in her gaze. "We wait for him to find himself. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that no one else can do that for him. He must face it on his own."

Mei nodded, her throat tight. She wanted to believe Serakai's words, but they felt hollow, like a prayer whispered into a storm. Lin Xian had always been strong, but there was something different now—something primal, something terrifying.

Lin Xian stood in the heart of the dream-realm, his senses assaulted by the flood of visions and voices that had overtaken him. The world around him was no longer tangible. It had become a tapestry of endless possibilities, a swirling mass of light and shadow, where nothing was real and everything was. The Throne loomed before him, its ancient power breathing like a living thing, its roots twisting deep into the very fabric of existence.

He had come here to face his own soul, but now, he wondered if he was simply walking toward his own destruction. The Abyss, the darkness that had been growing inside him, pulsed in time with his heartbeat. He could feel it, like an infection spreading through his mind, corrupting his thoughts. And yet, there was something compelling about it—something that whispered of untold power, of control over fate itself.

Lin Xian stepped forward, the ground beneath him shifting as if it could not decide if it wanted to support him or swallow him whole. The Throne was so close now, and he could feel its call, its presence suffusing the very air.

He reached out a hand toward it.

At that moment, the shadows surrounding the Throne stirred. Figures appeared, each one a fragment of his own self—each one a reflection of what he had been, what he could be, what he feared to become. There was the child, innocent and full of wonder, gazing at him with wide, unblinking eyes. The old man, bent and fragile, his hands clasped in silent prayer. The warrior, fierce and proud, standing tall in the face of destruction. And then, the creature—dark, twisted, a form that seemed to crawl from the very depths of the Abyss.

They all spoke without words, their gazes heavy with meaning.

"Which one will you choose, Lin Xian?" a voice echoed from the shadows. "Who will you become?"

Lin Xian clenched his fists, the visions swirling around him faster now, more chaotic. The pull of the Abyss was stronger than ever, its tendrils reaching for him. The power it offered was intoxicating, but it was not his. It could never be. He was the Myth-Carrier, the one who could rewrite fate—not bend it to his will.

His breath came in shallow gasps as the shadows closed in around him, suffocating him with their weight. He closed his eyes, fighting to hold on to the last vestiges of himself.

Then, he heard her voice. Mei's voice, faint but clear, breaking through the chaos. "Lin Xian. Don't forget who you are."

His eyes snapped open. The shadows were still there, but now they seemed smaller, less menacing. The Abyss, which had once seemed infinite, now felt like a mere reflection of the fear that gripped him. He had not come here to be consumed by it. He had come here to rise above it.

The Throne before him was not a place of power, but a test. A challenge. A choice.

Lin Xian stepped forward again, his hand reaching out, not to claim the Throne, but to touch it.

The moment his fingers brushed the cold stone, the world around him shattered.

Back in the monastery, Mei's heart lurched in her chest. She felt it then—the shift, the tremor in the very air, as if the world had turned on its axis. Something had changed. Something important.

Serakai looked at her sharply. "He's made his choice."

Mei nodded, her heart pounding in her ears. The storm was growing stronger outside, but it was nothing compared to the storm that had just been unleashed within the dream-realm.

Lin Xian had chosen to fight.

But the real battle was just beginning.

The world of dreams began to fracture, the edges of reality bending as the power of the Abyss receded. The Throne groaned, its roots cracking as it struggled to hold onto the world it had once commanded. Lin Xian stood at its base, his mind clearer now, the weight of the choice he had made settling over him like a heavy cloak.

He was not the myth. He was the one who shaped it.

And with that understanding, the rift began to close.

But not before one last voice reached out to him.