Gods of the Forgotten Realm

The ground beneath Kaelen's feet vibrated—faintly at first, like a distant tremor, but it grew stronger with each passing moment. The chamber was waking. The city was stirring.

Seraphine moved swiftly, grabbing his wrist. "We need to leave. Now."

Kaelen wrenched his arm free, his jaw tightening. "Not until you tell me what I need to know."

A sharp crack echoed through the chamber. The pillars lining the walls shuddered, the ancient symbols flickering wildly, their glow struggling against the encroaching darkness seeping from the basin. The shadows slithered outward, tendrils snaking across the stone like living veins.

Seraphine's voice was calm, but firm. "If you want answers, you'll have to find them outside this place. Stay any longer, and Elarion will take more than just your memories."

Kaelen hesitated, his instincts warring against his stubborn need for truth.

Then the shadows lunged.

A tendril of darkness shot toward him, faster than thought. He barely had time to react before Seraphine flicked her wrist, and a barrier of shimmering blue light erupted between them and the encroaching force. The impact sent a shockwave through the chamber, rattling the ancient stones.

Seraphine flinched, beads of sweat forming at her brow. "Move!"

Kaelen didn't argue this time. He turned, sprinting toward the passage he had entered from, Seraphine close behind. The corridor stretched before him, longer than he remembered, the shifting walls bending impossibly as if the city itself was warping reality.

Another pulse rippled through the air. The symbols along the walls twisted, their glowing script rearranging, forming new words.

Words that he could read.

Come back. Come back. Come back.

Kaelen's heart pounded as they ran. The city wasn't just waking—it was calling to him.

The exit was closed now. The archway loomed ahead, framed by the eerie glow of an unnatural twilight beyond. But before he could reach it, the world tilted. The ground beneath him buckled, sending him sprawling forward.

The moment his hands touched the stone, a jolt of raw energy surged through him. Images—fragments of another life—rushed into his mind like a tidal wave.

He saw himself standing before the basin, the dark liquid swirling.

He saw Seraphine kneeling, her wrists bound in chains of light.

He saw his hand raised—holding a dagger, its blade glinting with unnatural power.

And he heard a name.

A name that sent ice through his veins.

His own.

Kaelen gasped, his body jerking as if pulled from deep water. The vision shattered, leaving him breathless, his fingers trembling against the cold stone.

Seraphine's voice cut through the haze. "Kaelen!"

He forced himself upright, chest heaving. The exit was just ahead. They had to move.

With a final, desperate push, he sprinted forward and burst through the archway, leaving the whispering darkness behind.

Kaelen stumbled into the open air, his chest heaving as he braced himself against the cold stone of the ruined archway. The sensation of the vision still clung to him, like phantom hands grasping at his mind.

He had seen himself standing before the basin. He had seen the dagger.

He had seen her, bound in chains.

Seraphine emerged behind him, her robes billowing as she turned to face the temple entrance. The stone passage behind them trembled, the glow of the arcane runes flickering wildly. Then, with a deep, echoing groan, the entrance collapsed inward.

Dust and debris billowed into the twilight air. The temple was sealing itself shut.

Kaelen straightened, his hands still trembling. "What the hell was that?"

Seraphine didn't answer immediately. Instead, she closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as the tension in her shoulders eased. Only then did she look at him.

"You remembered something, didn't you?"

Kaelen clenched his jaw. He didn't want to say it aloud, didn't want to give voice to the haunting images still burned into his mind. But Seraphine was watching him with knowing eyes.

He exhaled sharply. "I saw myself. In that chamber. Holding a dagger."

Seraphine's gaze darkened. "Did you see what you did with it?"

Kaelen swallowed. The answer hovered on the edge of his mind, just beyond his grasp. He had been standing over the basin. The dagger had been in his hand.

But had he struck someone? Had he performed a ritual?

The memory refused to settle, twisting away like mist in the wind.

"I don't know," he admitted.

Seraphine studied him for a long moment, then looked away, her expression unreadable.

Kaelen turned his attention to their surroundings. They stood at the edge of a vast ruin, a city half-buried in the sands of time. The sky above them was a deep, unnatural twilight—neither day nor night—its light casting the ancient streets in an eerie glow.

Elarion. The Forgotten City.

Kaelen had spent years searching for this place, following fragmented records and whispers from scholars who barely believed in its existence. But now that he was here, he realized something chilling.

The city hadn't been lost. It had been hidden.

And for good reason.

Seraphine adjusted her robes, her gaze scanning the ruins. "We can't stay in one place for long. The city is awake now. It knows you're here."

Kaelen frowned. "You keep saying that. What does it mean?"

Seraphine met his gaze. "Elarion isn't like other ruins. It's alive, in ways you can't yet comprehend. And it doesn't forget those who have wronged it."

Kaelen felt a chill creep down his spine. "You're saying the city itself is watching me?"

Seraphine nodded. "It's always been watching you."

Kaelen inhaled sharply, fighting the instinctual urge to look over his shoulder. The ruins were silent, but now that he was listening, he could feel it—that strange, oppressive weight in the air, as if unseen eyes were pressed against his skin.

The realization settled in his chest like a heavy stone.

He hadn't just returned to Elarion.

He had been expected.