Chapter 34: The Path to Tareth

They left before sunrise.

Aeren rode at the front, guiding the way through the narrow southern trail. Kael stayed a few steps behind Elira, his cloak pulled up to hide his face from the cold wind. The mountains stood tall in the distance, like sleeping giants covered in snow.

The road to Tareth was quiet—too quiet.

No birds. No travelers. Not even distant smoke from the nearby villages.

It was as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Elira tried to calm her thoughts, but they kept returning to the vision in the Temple of Light—the broken doors, the silver-eyed boy, the blood.

She didn't know who he was.

But she felt, deep in her bones, that she would meet him. Soon.

"Do you think the second door is already broken?" she asked.

Aeren didn't look back. "I don't know. But the land feels... different. Even the wind."

Kael finally spoke. "Something's watching."

Elira's horse shifted nervously beneath her. She gripped the reins tighter.

They rode for hours, only stopping once to drink water and rest the horses. By mid-afternoon, the trees thinned, and blackened stone appeared along the trail.

It looked like the aftermath of a fire—but nothing burned.

"This is ashrock," Aeren said, dismounting. "It only forms in places touched by strong magic."

Elira stepped down and crouched near one of the black stones. It pulsed faintly when she touched it. Not warm. Not cold.

Just... wrong.

"We're getting close," she said.

Kael was already scanning the horizon. "There."

A low valley stretched out before them, filled with broken trees and twisted earth. In the middle stood a massive crater—dark, deep, and silent.

Tareth.

Or what was left of it.

They left the horses at the edge and climbed down on foot. The ground crackled beneath their boots, and strange patterns marked the soil—circles, lines, runes half-buried in dirt.

Elira knelt beside one and brushed away the dust.

Aeren leaned in. "You recognize it?"

"Yes," she said softly. "It's the same mark from the door."

Kael stepped forward. "Then this is one of them."

Elira shook her head. "No. This isn't the door. It's the scar left behind."

A cold wind howled through the valley.

Suddenly, Kael drew his sword.

"Elira—get back!"

She turned just in time to see the shadows shift.

From the edge of the crater, something rose.

Not a man.

Not a creature.

A shape—tall, hollow, and made of smoke and black light. Its eyes burned like coals, and its body twisted like mist caught in wind.

Aeren drew his dagger. "What is that?"

Elira backed away, her heart pounding. "I don't know."

The creature didn't move like a living thing. It floated—dragging its darkness with it, leaving ash in its wake.

Kael struck first, blade flashing. But it passed right through the thing.

"No form," he muttered, stepping back. "It's not flesh."

Aeren circled the other side. "It's guarding the crater. Like a shadow left behind."

Elira took a deep breath. She didn't have a weapon.

But she didn't need one.

She closed her eyes and reached inside herself—past the fear, past the cold.

To the light.

A faint warmth pulsed in her chest.

The magic of a healer. Of a mender. The light that refused to break.

She stepped forward and raised her hand.

"Back," she said.

The shadow paused.

"Back," she repeated, stronger now. "You have no power here."

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the light in her hand flared—brighter than she'd ever seen it.

The creature screamed.

A terrible, echoing sound that made the air tremble. It twisted wildly, its body unraveling. A moment later, it vanished in a flash of light and ash.

Silence returned.

Aeren ran to her side. "Elira—are you all right?"

She nodded slowly. "I didn't know I could do that."

Kael lowered his sword. "Whatever that was… it didn't belong in this world."

They approached the crater edge.

Inside, they saw ruins—part of an old temple buried beneath stone. Broken pillars. Cracked statues. And at the very center, a stone platform covered in runes.

Aeren dropped to one knee and studied them.

"They match the door."

Kael frowned. "But there's no door here."

"Because it's already opened," Elira whispered.

She knelt beside the runes and pressed her hand against the stone.

A strange sound echoed in her mind.

Not a voice. Not a word.

Just one long note. Like the ringing of a bell deep beneath the earth.

Then silence.

She stood. "The second seal is gone."

Kael's jaw tightened. "Then the third will start to break soon."

Aeren looked at her. "We need to find it. Before they do."

She nodded.

They turned back toward the horses, the sky already darkening.

But Elira paused.

Just before she climbed out of the crater, she saw something glinting in the dirt.

She picked it up.

A coin. Old. Burned at the edges. But still marked with a name.

Blackhart.

Her heart beat faster.

This wasn't just some old ruin. Someone had been here.

Recently.

And they had left this behind.

She turned the coin over.

On the other side was an engraving of a crown, broken in half.

"Elira?" Aeren called.

She closed her fist around the coin and followed them.

The past was no longer buried.

And whatever was coming next—

It had already begun.