Gods of the Forgotten Realm

The words struck Kaelen like a dagger to the chest.

You are the one who doomed us all.

The air in the chamber grew heavier, thick with something unseen, something ancient. The flickering glow of the arcane symbols around them pulsed faster, as if in response to the revelation. Kaelen's breath was steady, but inside, his mind was unraveling.

He had come here in search of the Heart of Elarion, the fabled relic that could reshape fate. He had prepared for danger, for illusions, for the whispers of a cursed city.

But he had never expected to find himself at the center of its tragedy.

Kaelen forced his voice to remain steady. "What do you mean?"

The woman regarded him with unreadable eyes. "You were here before. You set things into motion. And now, you've returned to finish what you started."

His fingers curled tighter around the hilt of his dagger. "That's impossible."

She stepped closer, the dim light catching the delicate silver embroidery on her robes. "Is it?"

Kaelen wanted to deny it, wanted to call her a liar. But deep down, something in him was breaking apart—something that had been carefully hidden beneath layers of forgotten time.

The flashes in his mind returned. This time, they lingered.

A city in flames. A figure standing atop the temple steps, their silhouette sharp against the raging inferno. A blade dripping with something dark.

His hand gripping the hilt.

His voice, shouting words he could not remember.

Kaelen staggered back, shaking his head. "No. That's not me. That can't be me."

The woman sighed as if she had seen this before. "You don't remember. But the city does."

The shadow in the basin stirred again, its tendrils reaching outward, clawing at the edges of reality. The voice from earlier—cold, whispering—returned, curling through his thoughts.

"You cannot undo what has been done."

Kaelen's pulse quickened. His instincts screamed at him to leave, to run from this place and never return. But he had come too far. He needed answers.

He turned back to the woman, his voice sharp. "Tell me who you are."

For the first time, her expression softened. "My name is Seraphine."

The name sent a strange shiver down his spine as if it held meaning he could not grasp.

"Seraphine," he repeated, testing the sound on his tongue. "Why are you here?"

She hesitated. "Because I made a promise."

Kaelen frowned. "To who?"

Seraphine's eyes met his. "To you."

Silence stretched between them.

Kaelen exhaled, his mind racing. "If what you're saying is true—if I was here before—then why don't I remember?"

Seraphine's gaze flickered to the basin, where the shadow coiled and writhed. "Because Elarion takes what it wants. And it took your past."

Kaelen swallowed hard. If this city had stolen his memories, had erased entire parts of his life, then the question wasn't just what had he done.

It was why had he come back?

And more importantly—what had he left behind?

Kaelen's breathing was steady, but beneath the surface, his mind was spiraling. The weight of Seraphine's words pressed down on him like a slow-moving avalanche, suffocating, inescapable.

Elarion takes what it wants.

If the city had stolen his past, had erased entire pieces of him, then what else had it taken? How much of himself had been lost in the ruins of this place?

He forced himself to focus. "If I was here before," he said slowly, "then tell me—what did I do?"

Seraphine hesitated, her hands curling into the folds of her robes. "Not all of it is clear. Even to me."

Kaelen narrowed his eyes. "You just said I doomed this city. Now you're telling me you don't know how?"

She exhaled as if the weight of his presence alone was exhausting. "I know enough." Her voice was quiet, but firm. "I know that the last time you stood in this chamber, you stood where that basin is now. And I know that when you left, the city began to die."

Kaelen's gaze flickered to the dark liquid. The way it rippled, pulsing like a heartbeat.

The memory flashes from earlier returned, stronger this time.

A temple collapsing. Shadows consuming the streets. Voices screaming.

And his voice, speaking a name—not his own, but something older, something dangerous.

He clenched his jaw. "I wouldn't have done that."

Seraphine looked at him with something almost like sorrow. "Perhaps not willingly."

The basin suddenly trembled. The liquid darkened further as if something beneath the surface had begun to wake.

Seraphine stiffened. "It's not safe to linger here."

Kaelen didn't move. "Not until you tell me everything."

Her gaze darkened. "If we stay here, you won't have a choice. The city will show you itself."

Kaelen glanced at the walls, the arcane symbols now pulsing violently, like warning beacons. He wasn't sure if he was ready for what the city would reveal.

But he knew one thing.

If Elarion remembered him, then somewhere, buried deep within these streets, was the truth.

And he would find it—no matter what it cost him.