Night doesn't always end when the sun rises.
Luin sat by a quiet stream, staring at his left hand.The crack left by the Second Seal wasn't a wound — it was a small opening into something deeper than flesh.
It felt like a fifth eye.Not one that sees outward, but one that looks inward.
And the longer he stared into it, the more the whispers came — not in words, but in meaning.
"You will never heal again."
Wylem approached slowly, standing behind him."Does it hurt?" he asked, voice calm but trembling underneath.
Luin whispered back,"It's not the pain… it's what doesn't hurt anymore."
⸻
The next day, they reached the ruins of a half-collapsed city.Its old name had been scratched off every sign; the air smelled of iron and betrayal.
Wylem pointed toward a low stone tower in the center of the square."There. That's where we'll meet the one who can help us decode the Third Ritual."
"Who?"
"He used to be one of the White Church's priests."
Luin froze."You're insane."
"Maybe," Wylem replied, "but he's the only one who knows how to take us to the next step… without getting our throats slit in our sleep."
⸻
Inside the tower, everything felt wrongly clean.The air was purer, and every wall was covered in cracked mirrors — each reflecting a different version of the room.
A short, bald man sat in the middle of a circle of candles, writing on sheets made of human skin.
He lifted his head."Wylem… and the cursed child."
Luin narrowed his eyes.
The man smiled."Don't be afraid. I'm the one who taught them how to plant the Seals… and how to cut them out."
⸻
"What do you want?" Luin asked flatly.
The man chuckled."I only want to see you fail."
Then he added,"But I'll help you anyway… because I'm curious."
"What do I need for the Third Ritual?"
The priest closed his eyes and murmured,"You must hear the voice within you — and answer it."
"I already did."
"No," the man said softly. "What you heard was its shadow. Now, you must listen to its origin."
⸻
Wylem intervened, tense:"Isn't there a safer way?"
"No."The priest's tone was simple, final."He must enter the Stone of Scars. There, he will have his first real conversation with what lives inside him."
"Where is it?"
"Near the city, buried in the mountain's gut. But…"
"But what?"
"It isn't entirely dead."
⸻
They left the tower with vague instructions and a map carved into a piece of bone.
That night, as Luin lay beneath the trees, the voice returned — clearer than ever.
"You opened the door… so don't pretend to fear what walks through it."
He closed his eyes and surrendered to sleep.Tomorrow would demand more than waking.
⸻
On the third day of their journey, they reached a strange threshold — a cracked rock wall breathing out the scent of old ash and stagnant water.The mountain looked carved out of a memory no one wanted back.
Luin stopped before the gap."This is it?"
Wylem compared the markings on the wall to the bone map."Yes… this is Mount Dumieh."
He hesitated."Are you sure about this?"
"I stopped asking for permission a long time ago."
⸻
Entering felt like sliding into a stone mouth.The air was unnaturally cold — the kind that felt alive, exhaled by something forbidden to breathe.
The deeper they went, the narrower the path became. The whispers drew closer.
"I heard something," Wylem muttered.
"It's not the mountain," Luin replied. "Mountains don't speak. But what's inside me does."
⸻
Hours later, they reached a round chamber carved deep into the rock.At its center stood a tilted black stone — like a shard that had fallen from the sky ages ago.
Its surface wasn't engraved — it throbbed.The cracks pulsed like veins.
Wylem stepped back."From here on… you're on your own."
Luin moved forward and placed his palm on the stone.
And in an instant—
He was gone.
⸻
He stood in a room without walls.No ground, no ceiling.Only a white void.
Then, a chair appeared.
And sitting on it… was himself.
But not quite.
This version had deeper features, hollow eyes — no reflection in them, only a dark abyss.
"At last, you came," the other said, his tone not entirely human.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the one who was buried… so you could be born."
"So you're the entity inside me?"
"No. I'm what's left of you. You killed me when you refused to remember."
⸻
The other stepped closer."To open the Third Seal, you don't need strength. You need to make peace with death."
"What death?"
"Your first one — the moment you stopped wanting to be yourself."
Luin felt something collapse inside him — not his mind, but the roots of his being.
"So I must kill you?"
"No. You must embrace me… and let me return."
⸻
In the real world…
Wylem watched Luin's body tremble, his eyes rolling back, new cracks forming across his skin.
Then—
A scream.
Not entirely human.
⸻
Inside the void—
Luin opened his eyes.
He was alone.The stone was gone.The void had turned to darkness.
A voice whispered from nowhere:
"Now, we begin."
⸻
When Luin finally emerged from the stone chamber, he was not the same.His body looked the same, but the way he stood, the way he breathed, the way his gaze lingered — all of it was different.
Something beneath his skin had awakened… and didn't wish to sleep again.
Wylem noticed immediately but didn't ask.
"What did you see?" he asked carefully, like someone stepping on thin ice.
Luin answered after a long silence:"The roots of what I was… and what I'll become."
⸻
At the mountain's exit, the path was blocked.
Four men in the robes of the White Church stood waiting, one holding a staff adorned with the symbol of the Closed Eye — the insignia of the High Council of Psychic Oversight.
"In the name of the Church," the leader declared, "you are under spiritual arrest for tampering with pre-ritual forbidden arts."
Wylem's hand went to his sword.
But Luin said, quietly,"No."
They all turned toward him.
"I won't run anymore."
⸻
The man with the staff began reciting an incantation.But as he spoke the final word, he choked.
His eyes widened — a black shimmer flared across his forehead, as though his soul's skin was burning.
Luin didn't move.
He just stared straight into the man's eyes… and read him from within.
Another priest tried to rush forward, but his voice vanished — erased, like the world had decided he no longer deserved sound.
Luin said quietly:"I didn't open the Third Seal… I descended into it."
⸻
The battle that followed was brief — and silent.
Wylem had drawn his weapon but soon realized he didn't need to.Luin wasn't fighting… yet the world was.
The churchmen's auras distorted, burning from the inside. Their spells unraveled. Their faith turned to fear.
One screamed,"Don't look into his eyes!"
Too late.
The man who said it collapsed, sobbing like a child whose mother had been torn away.
⸻
Minutes later, it was over.
The bodies weren't torn or broken — just empty.As if their souls had been lifted out without pain… only sorrow.
Wylem stood aside, silent.
Luin walked past the corpses, eyes dim, voice low:"They see me as a threat now… but they never realized I always was."
⸻
In a distant hall of the White Church, five men gathered around a black mirror that reflected nothing.
"The Third Seal has been summoned," one said."It has never been opened by an unchosen one."
Another replied:"It was chosen… just not by us."
Then a faint whisper filled the chamber, as though the room itself was breathing:
"The fracture draws near."
⸻
Wylem led Luin to an abandoned hut beyond the city's edge, where only the wind and brittle grass could be heard — bones clicking in the dark.
The shelter was half-dug into an old hillside, built by some forgotten sect centuries ago.
"No one will find us here," Wylem said as he pushed open the heavy door."At least… not quickly."
Luin said nothing.He stared at his hand.
A faint glow pulsed beneath his skin — not light, but movement.As if something alive had begun to breathe inside him.
"Does it hurt?" Wylem asked.
"No," Luin replied softly. "But I can feel my body rearranging itself… for something I don't yet understand."
Then he looked up."Wylem… what do you know about the Third Seal?"
⸻
Wylem stayed silent for a long time.
Then, almost a whisper:"The Third Seal isn't power. It's a being."
Luin frowned."What do you mean?"
"I mean the Church didn't just misname it — they misunderstood it completely. The Third isn't a step. It's a descent. When you open it, you don't gain… you lose. And whoever survives… never returns the same."
"Do you know anyone who survived it?"
Wylem turned away.He didn't answer.
But his hand went to his neck — tracing an old scar Luin had never seen before.
⸻
That night, Luin slept — though his eyes never fully closed.
In his dream, he heard a voice like his mother's… or what he remembered of her.
When he opened his eyes within the dream, he stood inside a hall of mirrors.
Each reflection was him — but each bore a different scar, a different eye, a different intent.
One of them stepped forward and whispered:
"The Third Seal hasn't opened yet…it has unveiled you."
Then it smiled — not like a human.
⸻
Luin woke with a gasp, sweat pouring down his face, heart racing from something that hadn't even been born yet.
But the worst part wasn't the dream.
It was the small mirror in the corner — the one that had been covered by a gray cloth.
It was no longer covered.
And in its reflection…
He wasn't the one staring back.
—
End of Chapter Twenty-Two