The wind in the Abyss was like a living thing. It whispered, hissed, and sometimes screamed. Every breath Ella took tasted of metal and ash. The darkness seemed endless, yet it wasn't empty. Shapes moved within it — pale and half-formed, like the ghosts of forgotten dreams.
Maeve raised her staff, and a faint ring of light spread around them. "Stay close," she said, her voice low. "We're walking through the Veil of the Lost. It's where souls who couldn't find peace wander forever."
Lyra clutched Ella's hand. "Souls? You mean… people?"
Maeve nodded. "Once. Some came seeking power, others redemption. The Abyss keeps them all."
Ella looked ahead. The faint light of the Heartstone pulsed in her palm, answering something deep within the darkness. She didn't know what it was calling to—but it felt old. Older than kingdoms, older than fear itself.
They walked for what felt like hours. The air grew heavy, pressing down on them. Around them, whispers rose like waves, some crying, some calling names that didn't belong to them.
Then one of the shadows broke away from the rest. It drifted toward Ella, its face hidden beneath a hood of smoke.
"Turn back…" it whispered. "The Keeper does not forgive."
Maeve stepped in front of Ella, her staff glowing brighter. "We seek no forgiveness. We seek truth."
The shadow hesitated, then vanished into mist.
Lyra shivered. "Who's the Keeper?"
Maeve's face darkened. "The guardian of the gate to the lower Abyss. A creature born from sorrow. It feeds on memory."
Ella frowned. "Feeds on memory?"
"It takes your past and traps you in it," Maeve said quietly. "That's why few return. They forget who they are."
They continued forward, the air growing colder with every step. Soon, they reached a vast plain of black sand. In the distance stood a massive figure—taller than any man, wrapped in rags and chains. Its eyes burned white in the dark.
"The Keeper," Maeve murmured.
The creature turned toward them, its voice echoing like thunder. "Who walks my ground?"
Maeve stepped forward. "Maeve of the Circle. We seek passage through the Abyss."
The Keeper's head tilted, and its chains rattled. "Many seek passage. Few are worthy."
Ella stepped forward beside Maeve. "We don't come for power. We come for truth."
The creature's eyes shifted to her. "Truth is the deepest wound of all, child. You will not bear it."
Ella lifted the Heartstone. "Then let it cut me."
The ground trembled. The Keeper raised one hand, and the sand beneath Ella's feet began to move, swirling upward until it formed a mirror made of black glass.
"In this mirror," the Keeper said, "you will face what you hide. If your heart breaks, the Abyss will keep your soul."
Maeve tried to protest, but the Keeper's power pushed her back. The mirror began to glow, and Ella felt herself being pulled inside.
Everything went white.
Then she was standing in her old village again — not the illusion from before, but real, living, warm. She could smell the bread baking, hear the laughter of children, and see her mother by the door of their home.
Her mother turned, smiling softly. "Ella."
Tears filled Ella's eyes. "Mother…"
But something was wrong. The sun was too bright, the colors too sharp. When she blinked, the ground rippled like water.
Her mother walked toward her. "Why did you leave me?"
Ella froze. "What?"
"You ran," her mother said, her smile fading. "You hid while they burned our home. You survived because you were afraid."
Ella shook her head. "No, I didn't—"
"You did," the voice said. "You were chosen because you ran."
The world darkened. Flames rose from the ground, twisting into faces — the faces of the villagers, the people she couldn't save.
"You let them die," the voice hissed. "And now you carry their curse."
Ella fell to her knees. "No! I didn't mean to! I didn't know!"
"Then learn."
A blinding light burst from the flames, and for a moment she saw her mother's true form — not human, but radiant, almost angelic, with wings made of light and eyes filled with sorrow.
"Ella," she said softly. "You must remember who you are. You are not my child alone. You are the blood of the old ones — the Lightbearers. The last of them."
Ella stared in shock. "Lightbearers?"
Her mother reached out, touching her forehead. "You were hidden for your own safety. The darkness hunts your kind. It always has."
The flames turned blue, and the vision shattered. Ella gasped, falling backward out of the mirror. Maeve caught her as the light faded.
"What did you see?" she asked.
Ella's voice trembled. "My mother. She said… I'm a Lightbearer."
Maeve's eyes widened. "So it's true. The prophecy wasn't just myth."
Lyra looked between them, confused. "What does that mean?"
Maeve took a deep breath. "The Lightbearers were the first guardians of balance. They could shape light into life itself. Malakar destroyed them to claim their power."
Ella looked down at the Heartstone, which now glowed brighter than ever. "Then he destroyed my people."
Maeve nodded slowly. "And you are the last."
Before Ella could speak again, the Keeper's voice thundered through the cavern. "You have faced your truth. You may pass—but beware. The deeper you go, the more the Abyss remembers."
The ground split open before them, revealing a spiral staircase made of bone and stone leading downward.
Maeve turned to the Keeper. "What lies below?"
"Malakar's throne," the creature said. "And the price of every lie ever told."
Lyra grabbed Ella's arm. "Are we really going down there?"
Ella nodded, her eyes fierce. "If that's where he is, that's where we end this."
Maeve raised her staff, lighting the first few steps. "Then let's finish what began centuries ago."
They began their descent, the whispers around them growing louder with every step. The air thickened until it felt like they were walking through water.
After what felt like hours, the staircase opened into another vast chamber—this one filled with floating shards of crystal, each holding faint images inside: memories of people, moments, dreams.
Lyra stopped beside one, staring. Inside the crystal, she saw herself as a child, laughing with her brother. Tears welled in her eyes. "It's showing me…"
Maeve touched her shoulder. "Don't look too long. The Abyss feeds on what you miss."
But Ella couldn't look away. In one of the crystals, she saw her mother again—alive, standing beside a man whose face she couldn't see. He held a sword made of light. Together they looked toward something hidden in the dark.
"Who is he?" Ella whispered.
Maeve followed her gaze, and her face went pale. "That sword… it's the Blade of Dawning. The weapon that sealed Malakar the first time. That man was your father."
Ella's breath caught. "My father?"
Maeve nodded slowly. "He died protecting the Heartstone. But if these memories still live… maybe his soul does too."
Before Ella could ask more, a rumble shook the ground. The crystals shattered, their light sucked away by a dark mist that rose from the floor.
Lyra screamed, pointing. "Something's coming!"
From the far end of the chamber, a massive creature emerged—half shadow, half bone, with wings of smoke and eyes like burning coals.
Maeve raised her staff. "The Keeper warned us. The Abyss remembers."
Ella stepped forward, her heart pounding. "Then let it remember me."
The Heartstone blazed with light, brighter than it ever had before. The creature shrieked and lunged, its claws cutting through the air. Ella lifted her hand, and a wall of pure light erupted from the ground, slamming into it.
The impact echoed like thunder. Lyra stumbled back, shielding her eyes. "Ella!"
"I've got it!" Ella shouted, her voice shaking but strong. "Maeve, help me!"
Maeve joined her, adding her power to the light. Together, they pushed the creature back, forcing it into the shadows until it dissolved into mist.
When the light faded, Ella collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath.
Lyra rushed to her side. "Are you okay?"
Ella nodded weakly. "Yes… but it's getting stronger. So am I."
Maeve looked around the chamber, her face filled with awe and worry. "You're awakening faster than I expected. The Abyss is forcing your bloodline to surface."
Ella looked at her, eyes glowing faintly. "Then maybe it's time the darkness learned to fear the light again."