CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: The Solgrave Silence

Xadriel

Solgrave was a myth.

A place spoken of in hushed whispers by old seers and mad priests. A city swallowed by time and judgment — cursed to sink beneath the weight of its own ambition. It was said the gods locked it in a fold between worlds, not out of vengeance, but out of fear.

Now, they stood at its gate.

The air was colder here. Still. Even the wind didn't dare move.

Elianah gripped the Memory Core tightly as Selene chanted under her breath, her hands glowing as they passed over the cracked archway. Runes that hadn't been touched in centuries responded to her magic, pulsing like dying embers awakened.

Xadriel swallowed hard. "You're sure this is it?"

Selene didn't look back. "No one's sure of anything in Solgrave. But if the map exists, it's here."

Elianah stepped forward, her voice steady. "Then we enter together."

The moment they passed the arch, the world shifted.

The light dimmed — not into darkness, but into silence.

Sound didn't echo here. It disappeared.

Xadriel's heartbeat was suddenly the only thing he could hear — loud, urgent, like a warning.

Buildings rose around them, carved from obsidian and ivory, abandoned but intact. Statues lined the streets — faces twisted in fear, hands reaching upward toward something unseen.

Calyx muttered, "These aren't statues. They're remains."

Selene's eyes narrowed. "The Hollowed perfected a magic that traps a soul mid-scream. This… was their testing ground."

Elianah moved faster now, her pace almost desperate. Her mark was glowing — guiding her. Every step seemed to pull her deeper into the city, down alleys and halls as if her body remembered what her mind could not.

Finally, she stopped before a circular door carved into the ground.

A seal glimmered faintly at its center.

The same crescent-and-sword symbol.

Her mark burned in response.

"This is it," she whispered. "The Vault."

Xadriel reached for her, but before he could speak, her fingers pressed to the center.

The seal shattered into light.

The ground gave way.

They fell.

And when they landed, they found themselves in a chamber unlike anything they'd seen before.

Thousands of scrolls floated mid-air, whispering softly to each other in languages lost to time. In the center stood a pedestal — and upon it, a single relic:

A mirror. Fractured. Bleeding silver light.

Elianah approached it slowly.

As she gazed into it, the whispers stopped.

And then… it spoke.

> "You who bear the mark… you who broke the seal… you who carry lifetimes of love and war…

Ask your question. The answer will cost you."

She didn't hesitate.

"Where is the Hollowed's anchor in this realm?"

The mirror shuddered — and then it bled. Silver droplets ran down its surface, forming into a shape:

A tower.

One they had seen before.

Xadriel's eyes widened. "That's—"

"Elianah's family estate," Selene finished. "The old house."

"No," Elianah said, breath catching. "The ruins beneath it."

The map seared itself into the air and then vanished.

The mirror cracked one last time, then exploded into light.

And then the whispers returned — not soft this time, but screaming.

The Hollowed had found them.

And Solgrave was waking up.