Chapter 11: Echoes Beneath the Stone

The torchlight flickered against the damp stone walls as Kael followed the winding staircase deeper into the ruins beneath Ebonreach. Each step echoed like a whispered warning, swallowed by the endless dark. Behind him, only silence.

Liora's voice lingered in his head. "Whatever you find down there... don't trust it."

Not exactly comforting. But she was right. Something about this place felt off. The air was too still. Too heavy.

He reached the bottom of the staircase, and the narrow corridor opened into a vast underground chamber—an ancient temple, half-buried beneath the city. Pillars carved with forgotten runes reached toward a ceiling lost in shadow. At the center, a raised altar pulsed with faint blue light.

Kael's eyes narrowed.

"This wasn't here five years ago," he muttered.

He stepped forward, boots crunching over broken stone and dried moss. Something was humming, low and steady—almost like a heartbeat. It came from the altar. But the moment he touched its edge, the hum stopped.

Silence.

Then a whisper—no, a voice—drifted from the shadows behind him.

"You shouldn't be here."

Kael turned, daggers already in hand.

A figure stepped from the darkness. Pale skin, sunken eyes, and tattered robes that looked older than the ruins themselves. The man's presence sent a shiver through the air.

"Who are you?" Kael asked, not lowering his guard.

The figure didn't answer. Instead, he raised a bony hand—and the runes on the walls ignited with crimson light.

The ground trembled.

Kael leapt back as the altar cracked open, revealing a pit of swirling energy. It felt ancient. Hungry.

"The seal is weak," the man rasped. "But your blood... it calls to it."

Kael's grip tightened on his blades. "I'm not here for your cryptic nonsense. What is this place?"

The man's lips curled into a grin. "This is where ruin was born. Where Monarchs were broken. And reborn."

Before Kael could move, chains of light shot from the runes, wrapping around his limbs. He growled, struggling, but they burned against his skin like fire.

"Let go!"

The man stepped closer. "You want power, don't you? This is what you came for."

Kael's eyes flared. Essence surged from within him—raw, defiant. With a sharp cry, he shattered the chains with a burst of black-blue energy.

The explosion rocked the chamber. Dust and debris fell from the ceiling as Kael lunged forward, blades flashing.

The man caught one of the daggers with his bare hand—no reaction. Just that same hollow smile.

"You're still bound by time," he said, voice echoing unnaturally. "But the ruin within you is awakening. When it does... everything changes."

Kael kicked off the altar, flipping backward and landing several feet away.

"I've had enough of riddles."

He dashed forward again, blades crossing. But the man vanished—like smoke swallowed by the wind.

Only his voice remained.

"Seek the Obsidian Throne... and learn who you were meant to become."

The light vanished. The altar sealed itself shut, leaving nothing but cold silence.

Kael stood still, heart pounding. What the hell was that?

The runes were dead again. Whatever power had stirred was now dormant. But it left something behind. In the center of the altar sat a single obsidian shard, pulsing with the same blue hue as before.

Kael picked it up.

The moment he did, visions slammed into him. A battlefield. Cities burning. Shadows rising from the ground. And in the center of it all—a man who looked just like him, wearing a cloak of fire and ruin, standing atop a mountain of corpses.

Kael gasped, stumbling back. The shard fell from his hand and clattered to the floor.

"That... wasn't me," he whispered. "No way."

But deep down, he wasn't so sure.

---

Back in the city above, Liora paced across the room of the inn they had rented. The air was tense, her thoughts racing.

He should've been back by now.

Her hand hovered over the hilt of her sword. She hated waiting. Especially when it involved Kael. Ever since that night in the alley—the night he almost died—he had changed. Grown colder. Stronger. But also more reckless.

The door creaked open. Kael stepped inside, covered in dust and dried blood.

Liora rushed to him. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"No," Kael said. "Not physically."

She frowned, stepping closer. "Then what is it?"

Kael hesitated. Then handed her the shard.

Liora took it—and immediately winced. "This thing... it's not normal."

"Yeah," he said. "Neither is what I saw."

He told her everything—the man in the ruins, the visions, the throne. And the warning.

When he finished, Liora didn't speak for a moment.

Then: "We leave Ebonreach. Tonight."

Kael raised a brow. "You believe me?"

"I don't need to believe," she said. "I felt the same thing in that shard. Whatever this is, it's connected to your regression. And I have a bad feeling it's just the beginning."

Kael looked at her—really looked at her. Even with everything going wrong, she still stood beside him.

"Thanks, Liora."

She snorted. "Don't get sappy. We've got gods to piss off."

Kael cracked a rare grin.

Outside, the wind howled through the alleyways. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

They began packing what little they had—maps, rations, the shard wrapped in cloth. Liora's eyes lingered on Kael as he moved, shoulders tense, eyes darker than before.

"You're not telling me something," she said quietly.

Kael paused. He didn't turn around. "I saw myself in those visions, Liora. But it wasn't... me. It felt like something older. Like a version of me that didn't care about anything. Not even you."

The silence stretched.

Then she stepped up behind him, placing a hand gently on his back. "Then let's make sure you are the one who wins. Not whoever that monster is."

He turned to her, and for a moment, their eyes met. Close. Too close.

But Kael looked away.

"We should go."

Liora nodded, masking the flicker of something in her chest.

They slipped out of the inn under cover of darkness. The streets were quiet, and Ebonreach slept unaware of the storm brewing beneath it.

As they left the city gates, Kael felt the shard's presence like a pulse at his side. Something had been unlocked. And whatever lay ahead—it was waiting for him.

Far to the east, beyond mountains and forgotten ruins, the Obsidian Throne awaited its heir.

And somewhere in the shadows, others had already begun to move.

A masked figure stepped from a crumbling watchtower, watching the pair vanish into the night.

"So... he's finally begun the path," the figure whispered. "Let's see how long he survives."

Their footsteps faded into the wind, but the echoes of ruin had only just begun.