Chapter 11
The air was dense with fog as they approached the ravine. Jagged cliffs marked the hidden route known only to smugglers, shadow-cloaked merchants, and a few lucky escapees.
Rynn knelt by an old stone marker, brushing away dirt and moss to reveal a faded emblem—a serpent entwined with an hourglass. "This is it."
Draziel scanned the terrain. "We move fast. If she's tracking our magical residue, this path may give us a chance to disappear."
Sylas gave a dry laugh. "Unless she's already ahead of us."
They began the descent—silent, weapons ready. The deeper they went, the more unnatural the air became. This wasn't just a hidden passage; it was something older.
"Feel that?" Rynn whispered. "Something's… watching."
Suddenly, a pulse of magic trembled through the stone. The path behind them sealed with a low groan.
Draziel raised his hand, flames flickering in his palm. "This passage wasn't abandoned. It was sealed. For a reason."
They weren't just escaping Nyra anymore.
They had walked into something ancient.
---
The descent grew darker with every step. The path wound like a buried serpent, walls narrowing and air thickening with ancient stillness. Moss coated the stone, and faint whispers—too soft to understand—seemed to bleed from the cracks.
Rynn touched the glowing glyph on the wall as they passed. "This place is older than the Dominion Wars… I think this was once a sanctuary."
Draziel remained silent, his eyes scanning everything. *Something* about this passage pulled at his memories—like echoes of a forgotten ruin he'd once razed. But it wasn't just memory. It was *resonance.*
The further they walked, the more his power… stirred.
Sylas walked a few steps ahead, blades drawn. "So we escaped the Veilcasters, just to walk into a cursed tomb. Nice upgrade."
Suddenly, the corridor opened into a vast underground chamber—columns of obsidian arched high above them, and glowing veins of crimson essence ran like rivers through the walls.
In the center stood a black obelisk, cracked and humming softly.
Draziel stepped closer. "This wasn't built for protection…"
"…It was built for containment," Rynn finished, eyes wide.
And just then—
*The obelisk pulsed.*
A shriek tore through the chamber—feral, hungry. Shadows rippled from the cracks in the obelisk, and from the far edges of the room, clawed creatures began to emerge. Twisted forms of essence-bound beasts long forgotten, their bodies half-spectral, half-corpse.
Sylas cursed. "We woke something."
"No," Draziel muttered, stepping forward. Flames curling around his arms. "*It woke because I'm here.*"
---
The first creature lunged — a mass of sinew and swirling essence, eyes like fractured gemstones. Draziel moved before it landed, flames bursting from his palm as he drove a spear of fire through its chest.
It didn't die.
It screamed.
And three more took its place.
"Sylas, left!" Rynn shouted, drawing twin arcanic seals into the air. Vines of luminous blue essence erupted from her glyphs, wrapping around another beast's limbs to hold it midair — just long enough for Sylas to leap and drive his blade through its throat.
Draziel spun, flames morphing into obsidian chains, lashing across the chamber. But every time one creature fell, two more slithered from the darkness.
"They're not dying," Sylas grunted, ducking under a claw swipe. "What the hell *are* these things?"
"Constructs," Draziel growled. "Tethered to the obelisk."
He turned toward the pulsing structure. The hum was louder now, like it was *feeding* off the battle — no, off *him*. The sigils etched into its surface shimmered faintly. Ancient. Familiar.
And then — a memory.
A battlefield littered with corpses.
An obelisk… broken by his hand.
A voice whispered in his mind:
*"You were never meant to live again."*
Draziel's grip tightened. *Of course.* This wasn't a tomb or a sanctuary. It was a *fail-safe*. A prison for his past — a relic designed to trap remnants of *his* essence.
The beasts weren't guarding it.
They were *drawn* to him because of it.
He turned to Rynn. "We destroy the obelisk. It's anchoring them."
Rynn's expression flickered. "But if it's tied to your essence—"
"Then it'll hurt," Draziel said. "But I'll live."
He hoped.
Sylas dove past him, slashing another beast across its eyes. "Make it quick, or we'll be essence feed!"
Draziel stepped forward. Every cell in his body screamed as he neared the obelisk. Its dark glow wrapped around him like a memory, and the glyphs responded — shifting from crimson to deep violet.
Suddenly — a figure *formed* in front of him.
Not a beast. A silhouette in black armor, face hidden by a visor of cracked obsidian. It radiated raw power.
And spoke with his *own voice*.
"Your sins remain, Kairos."
Draziel froze.
This wasn't just a memory. It was a *manifestation*.
His past self — or a fragment of it — bound by the obelisk.
Rynn's voice snapped him back. "Draziel—behind you!"
He spun, just in time to catch the black figure's blade against his forearm — pain flashing through him like fire. But Draziel didn't retreat.
He roared.
Essence exploded from his core — fire, shadow, and molten stone erupting in all directions. The beasts shrieked and burned, the obelisk cracked again.
He drove his fist into the core of the black figure — into *himself* — and whispered:
"*I'm not your prisoner anymore.*"
The obelisk shattered in a blinding surge of light.
The chamber fell silent. The beasts evaporated.
The weight… lifted.
Draziel collapsed to one knee, breathing hard. Sylas approached cautiously. "That was… unnecessarily dramatic."
Rynn helped him up. "You alright?"
Draziel gave a tired grin. "Ask me tomorrow."
But even as they climbed out of the ruins, Draziel couldn't shake the feeling.
*Something had changed.*
And not just in him.
Far away, in shadows unknown, others had felt the obelisk break.
---
The ruins trembled long after the obelisk had shattered.
Ash still drifted in the air, clinging to scorched stone and fractured glyphs. At the center of it all, Draziel stood still — unnaturally still. His chest rose and fell, but his eyes… were distant. Empty, yet deeper than before.
Like staring into a bottomless well.
"Draziel?" Rynn stepped closer, hesitant. "Say something."
He blinked. Slowly.
And then it hit her — not fear… but *wrongness*.
The essence around him wasn't just elemental anymore. It wasn't fire or shadow or stone. It was… *absence*. As if the world bent inward, recoiling from something it couldn't understand.
Sylas had his blade half-drawn. "What the hell is that around him?"
Draziel raised his hand.
The air rippled — just a shimmer — and a nearby column simply *ceased to exist*. No flash. No impact. Just silence… and *obliteration*.
His voice came low, hoarse. "It's not power. It's a void."
He collapsed to one knee, gasping.
Rynn caught him before he fell entirely. "You shouldn't have stood so soon. Your essence—"
"Changed," he said. "Or… awakened."
A black sigil now lingered beneath his palm — a mark not carved, but *burned* into the world. Voidscript. Ancient, predating even Dominion.
Rynn looked shaken. "I've never seen anything like this. It's not from this realm."
"No," Draziel said. "It's not."
Sylas sheathed his blade with a grunt. "Fantastic. As if we weren't in enough trouble. Now you're radiating a power that makes even *monsters* flinch."
Suddenly, the chamber groaned again.
"Time to move," Draziel muttered.
As they exited, the remains of the obelisk crumbled completely — but not into rubble. Into *dustless space*. A tear in the world, left behind like a scar. Silent. Waiting.
And far away, in a distant citadel drowned in shadow, *something noticed*.
A lone figure stood before a black altar, eyes opening as a black crystal pulsed faintly in his palm. A smile curved across pale lips.
"So," he whispered. "The Void has a new vessel."
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