Echoes in the Spires

Lirien Thalor pulled out her curved sword, slicing the debris of the chamber caused by the void-tremor.

"Run!" She let out a bark.

With his legs heavy in his robe, Ethan ran away and picked up a blade. Fear-filled breath caught in his throat, and perspiration started to trickle down his cheeks. This didn't make sense to him. For what reason was he running? Debris smashed down from the chamber, and his rune grew brighter as he dashed through the luminous corridor of crystal, dodging each one of them one by one.

The void-tremor grew stronger as they stumbled through the crumbling gate-chamber. The girl he left behind ran through the collapsing gate chamber and followed him.

"Your pace is slow." Lirien said as she quickly moved forward and took Ethan's hand.

With a roar, the void-tremor swung out like a clawed tendril. The form of ichor echoed the corpse, splashing Ethan's face and causing him to gag.

Lirien led the way down the corridor, which led to a spacious room with a solid, cracked, starlit glass ceiling. Some runes on the floor flickered and dimmed, while others glowed. With its frame carved with constellations, a gigantic gate loomed, rippling like a portal to oblivion. Ethan felt his rune pulse warningly as a void-spawn snapped its mandible. Ichor splattered as Lirien's sword struck it, but she was tackled and pinned to the stone by another.

Before his mind could react, Ethan's blade moved, and Marcus's reflexes slashed the creature's head clean off. The violet eyes of Ichor dimmed and pooled.

Lirien clambered to her feet, staring at him, a stranger in his face instead of Marcus. "Still got it, Marcus," she said in a doubtful voice. Or is something wrong?

Ethan's robe was stained with ichor as he followed Lirien into the streets of Aetherion, his legs burning. With their starlight flickering under the pulse of another tremor, crystal spires towered.

However, more void-tremor aftershocks hit the earth, and the air hummed with uneasiness. "We're still not safe."

With her silver cloak flapping and her rune-etched sword shining at her hip, Lirien strode forward. Her green eyes searched his face as she turned back to him and took hold of his arm.

A diamond-carved dream, but the air hummed with unease as crystal spires rose, their starlit facets scattering prisms across cobblestones. As aftershocks throbbed through the earth, auroras flickered overhead, growing dimmer. Above, the quartz frame of the First Gate arched, glimmering with captured stars, but its runes faltered, unsteady.

As they whispered to one another, gatekeepers wearing tunics woven with stars looked toward the flaming gate chamber. Lirien's sword, which was engraved with runes, shone at her hip while her silver cloak billowed.

"Lirien, this isn't my first ride. Are you fishing for something else?" His eyes darted to her sword, putting her to the test.

Lirien laughed and put her palm to her forehead.

"I think you got me then."

A shattered recollection arose—Marcus's urgent, low voice: "Trust no elder." With the journal in his robe suddenly heavy and the words "The Council hides the truth" blazing in his brain, Ethan shook it off.

"Keep up, Marcus!" she uttered, her voice tight but softened by concern.

"Where are we going?"

"The Starlit Sanctum," Lirien said, pointing to a doomed structure of white stones, its roof studded with glowing orbs. "Sylra and Torren are waiting. They'll help you… adjust. The Council's already buzzing about the tremor. We need to report before Valthor starts asking questions."

"Valthor?" Seeking context, Ethan inquired. The image of Valthor Drayce, a council elder with a serpentine smile, flashed through Marcus's mind.

Lirien paused, gripping her blade with tighter fingers. An elder. He is not fond of surprises. Or gatekeepers who pose excessive inquiries. Her eyes flitted away once more, concealing something, but her tone was one of caution.

Lirien's sidelong glance sparked Ethan's interest in solving mysteries. Was she a traitor or an ally? Marcus whispered, "Trust no elder," and it burned like a ghost inside his skull. The suddenness hit him, causing his fingers to prickle. The words were as heavy as the journal in his pocket, its scrawl unreadable in his bewilderment.

"Unity Through Starlight" was written on Council posters lining the spires as they passed through the Starlit Sanctum, their runes gleaming.

Lirien hurried along, her cloak glinting in the starlight.

"The High Gods bless Aetherion's light," she said in a solemn tone. "They guide us against the void."

The Starlit Sanctum loomed; its pillars etched with runes pulsing like a heartbeat. The sanctum's fractal light was both mesmerizing and oppressive, a stage for a gatekeeper role that Ethan hardly understood, and his boots echoed on the alabaster floor.

Stopping, Lirien narrowed her eyes at Ethan. "You're silent, Marcus. Experiencing the void-tremor upon awakening was an odd sensation. Is everything okay with you?"

He spoke steadily, "Just adjusting," as his void-resistance reduced the pulse of the scar.

"What is a tremor to a gatekeeper?"

Lirien curled her lips, but it wasn't quite a smile. A cautionary tale. Though the void stirs, the Ninegates hold. You either stop its breaches or perish trying.

Ethan's recollection of the cult's knife cutting Zorathys's rune into his chest blended with her words, which echoed Marcus's last stand.

A low rumble shook the ground, sending quartz falling, and cracks of spider webbing appeared all over the sanctum. Outside, gatekeepers drew their blades, their runes flaring, and screams broke out. An invisible hand seemed to be choking the auroras above as they flickered and dimmed.

"Void-pulse!" Lirien pulled him toward the center of the sanctum, where a glimmering starlight orb was visible. "Remain vigilant!" With Marcus's legacy in its weight, Ethan gripped the journal tightly. Through a quartz window, he caught a glimpse of the First Gate's runes as the chamber trembled, their light fading like a dying star. The false crystalline order of Aetherion crumbled under the weight of chaos.

Ethan sat with the journal fragments open in a spire chamber under a faint starlight orb. Lirien gave him a last uncertain glance before leaving him to "get ready" for the oath. The tremor of the sanctum still reverberated in his bones, but the journal was his anchor. In addition to its scrawl, "The Council hides the truth," he recalls its caution: "Trust no elder."

Marcus died, but why? With the echo of the void-pulse in his bones, Ethan whispered, "He sacrificed his life for the truth." At what cost?