The hills turned to stone.
Grass gave way to gravel, and gravel to ash-colored slate. Trees no longer grew here, only twisted shrubs clawing toward a sky that refused to answer.
They were far from any map now.
Even Teren admitted, "We're walking on the bones of the forgotten."
Frido said nothing.
Because in his pocket, the stone was warm.
And the warmth pulsed like a heartbeat.
---
The Entrance Buried in Dust
They reached the cliff face by midday.
A dead end, it seemed.
No cave. No path.
Just silence.
But Frido stepped forward and placed his hand against the stone.
The moment he did, the wind stopped.
The world went still.
And the cliff opened.
Stone cracked down the center, revealing stairs descending into blackness.
Not carved—but grown, somehow. Like the earth itself had built a way in long ago and sealed it shut when no one was worthy.
Mirea drew in a sharp breath. "Is this… the Archive?"
Frido nodded.
He wasn't sure how he knew.
Only that he did.
---
A Place Without Voices
Inside, it was dark.
Not the kind of darkness you light a torch for.
A silence-dark.
Where even thoughts sounded too loud.
They moved slowly, each step echoing far too far.
And then… they entered the Hall.
A vast chamber of stone shelves. No books.
Only stones.
Hundreds. Thousands. Each marked with a symbol. Some pulsed faintly.
Teren whispered, "What is this place?"
Frido stepped forward. The stone in his pocket tugged toward a shelf.
When he touched one of the stones, he heard a voice—not in his ears, but in his heart:
> "The boy who would bear silence shall break the last oath."
Mirea gasped. "Did you hear that?"
Frido turned.
"You did?"
She shook her head. "No. But… I saw something. A woman. Crying. Holding a child."
Teren stepped back. "We shouldn't be here."
But Frido took the stone with him.
He couldn't leave it.
It had his name etched into it.
---
Visions in the Vault
The next chamber held a pool—black and still.
No reflection.
Only memory.
When Frido stepped to the edge, the water rippled.
And then it showed him:
A battlefield covered in silence, no screams.
A king kneeling in surrender.
A boy standing alone, untouched, unarmed.
The image vanished.
Mirea touched his shoulder.
"I saw it too," she said softly. "But… I saw your eyes. And they weren't yours."
He turned to her. "What do you mean?"
"They were older. Sadder. But still kind."
Frido looked back at the pool.
He didn't know what it meant.
But he knew something had changed.
---
The Wall of the Unwritten
At the end of the Archive, past columns cracked by time, they found a final chamber.
A wall stood there.
Blank. Smooth.
Except for one sentence written in tiny, near-faded script:
> "When the world forgets itself, only silence will remember."
And beneath it… nothing.
No names. No stories.
Just space.
Frido approached the wall.
And without thinking, reached into his pocket.
The stone pulsed. Once. Twice.
And then—
A second line appeared on the wall in glowing letters:
> "Frido, of the Unspoken, shall remind the world what it buried."
Teren stepped back. "That's not a prophecy."
Mirea whispered, "It's a warning."
---
Leaving the Past Behind
They left the Archive as the sun was setting.
The doors closed behind them—not with sound, but with the quiet finality of a dream ending.
Frido walked slower.
Not from weariness.
But from weight.
Mirea walked beside him, silent.
Until, finally, she said, "Are you afraid?"
He didn't answer for a long time.
Then: "Yes. But not of what's coming."
She nodded. "Of what it will cost?"
He nodded.
And in the silence between them, a promise was made.
Unspoken.
But unbreakable.
---
What the Wind Brought
That night, as they camped beneath stars too bright to be kind, Frido held the stone in his palm.
And again, it pulsed.
This time, it whispered:
> "The voice you carry is not your own. But you must choose how it ends."
And Frido, though his heart trembled, whispered back:
> "I will end it with silence."
Mirea didn't hear.
But she felt it.
In the way the wind paused.
In the way the stars blinked.
And in the way the fire never crackled that night.
---
End of Chapter 35