Chapter 12: Whispers in the Deep
The air in the obsidian chamber was heavy, and still. Even after the echo of the Gateborn had vanished, the presence lingered like mist clinging to the skin. Kael stood before the dais, hand still trembling from the Key's reaction, while Lira scanned the walls for exits. There were none.
"What now?" she asked.
Kael didn't answer right away. The mark on his palm was still pulsing—hotter now, but slower, like a beacon pulling him inward.
Then, with a rumble beneath their feet, the floor shifted.
From the center of the room, the dais began to descend, slow and deliberate. The air grew colder, the shadows deeper. They stood in silence as the platform lowered into the dark, until all light from above had vanished.
Then new light bloomed beneath them—a vast cavern revealed by veins of glowing emberstone threaded through the rock. Thousands of tunnels branched out below, each marked with a different rune, each glowing faintly like old stars.
"This is beneath even the Deep Holds," Lira said. "I didn't think anything was deeper."
Kael's breath caught. "This place… isn't mapped."
"No. Because it doesn't belong to the Academy."
When the dais settled, they stepped off into a wide pathway flanked by old sigils carved in flame-script. The ground was smooth, polished black glass.
The silence was total. No echo of footsteps. No air current. No life.
Until a whisper curled around Kael's mind.
"𝚲... Ϟ... Ͻ..."
Kael froze.
"Did you hear that?"
Lira shook her head. "What?"
"Voices."
She looked uneasy but didn't argue. Instead, she gripped her blade tighter and nodded.
They moved into the tunnel ahead, guided now not just by the pull of the Key, but by the whispers Kael alone could hear. Words in a language he didn't know—but knew.
Each step echoed with memory.
They passed murals again—these far older, cracked and faded. One showed a Gateborn standing before a tide of void-creatures. Another showed chains breaking. The final one depicted a figure made of fire, kneeling before a starless sky.
Kael stopped.
"I've seen this before… in a dream."
"You dreamed this mural?" Lira asked.
"No. I dreamed being here."
They pressed on.
Soon they reached an arch shaped like an eye. As they passed beneath it, a ward flared—scanning them. The Key in Kael's pocket pulsed once, and the ward went silent.
Beyond lay a vast library.
Not one of books—but of sealed memories.
Thousands of crystal shards hovered in the air, each one humming with power. Some glowed faintly. Others pulsed like trapped hearts.
"What is this place?" Lira asked, eyes wide.
Kael stepped toward a shard marked with the symbol Ͻ—the third rune that had spoken in the whisper.
The shard dropped from the air and hovered before him.
"Touch it," a voice said—not aloud, but in his mind.
Kael obeyed.
The world fell away.
He stood in a vision—not his own.
A Gateborn walked through a burning city. Ash rained from the sky. Creatures of black smoke screamed through the streets. The Gateborn held a blade made of memory and fire.
Beside him walked a woman with Lira's face—but older, and crueler. Her eyes burned with secrets.
"Seal it," she said.
The Gateborn nodded and raised his palm.
The same runes as Kael's.
The vision cracked.
Kael gasped and stumbled back.
Lira caught him. "What happened?"
"I… I saw one of them. A Gateborn. He knew you."
She frowned. "My face?"
He nodded.
They didn't speak for a while.
Instead, they explored.
Each shard Kael touched offered a glimpse—sometimes terrifying, sometimes sorrowful—of the Gateborn past. Of war. Of betrayal. Of a great sealing.
And always, fire.
Then they found the sealed door.
It stood at the far end of the chamber, blacker than the walls, carved with nine runes. Only three glowed: 𝚲, Ϟ, and Ͻ.
Kael reached out.
The door did not open.
Instead, it spoke.
"You are not complete."
Lira sighed. "Figures."
"But it knows me," Kael said. "It responded."
"Which means there are six more Keys."
Kael nodded. "We have a long way to go."
Just then, the chamber trembled.
From above—a roar.
The shadows shifted.
Something was coming.
They ran back to the platform, hearts pounding.
As it rose, the echoes of the deep followed them.
And far below, something ancient stirred in its prison.
To be Continued...