----Page 16----
Huuuuuummm... Huuuuuuummm...
The cavern trembled. The sound vibrated, reaching deep inside me, like a forgotten song. It was a low, rumbling noise.
Like a giant machine waking up after sleeping for ages.
It felt heavy, full of power a power the ancient texts spoke of, a time when golems walked as equals among men.
But that was then. Now, the power felt corrupted, twisted into something sinister.
Chains rattled, a harsh counterpoint to the cavern's hum. My gaze snapped to the source: his father, and all the other miners, dragged forward like cattle.
They were being pulled toward a huge, glowing gem: the Grexion Crystal.
The sight was horrifying. They looked like living zombies, their eyes vacant, their bodies mere puppets controlled by some unseen force.
Their rough, calloused hands were bound by thick iron chains, their faces gaunt and pale beneath the flickering torchlight.
"Fatheeeer! No... please... don't leave me!"
Seville's scream tore through the cavern, a raw, desperate sound that echoed my own helplessness.
Tears streamed down his face, each drop a burning testament to the love he was about to lose.
His small frame trembled in his worn, patched-up tunic, his dark hair matted with sweat and dust.
Then, something shifted. It was subtle at first, a faint tremor in the air. I saw a tear make a clean streak on his dirty cheek, and for a moment, his face was illuminated by a soft, inner light. Then... everything changed.
A surge of energy erupted from Seville, pushing outward like a shockwave. The air crackled, and a strong gale of wind swirled around him, whipping his hair and clothes.
His eyes snapped open, glowing with an intense, otherworldly light a vibrant emerald green that pulsed with raw power.
He started floating in mid-air, suspended between despair and something... more.
It wasn't the corrupted energy of the Grexion Crystal; I could feel it. This was different.
The uncorrupted spirits within the massive gem... they must have taken pity on his grieving soul. It was a desperate gamble, but they were offering him a lifeline, a way to channel his pain.
And then I saw them. Small, green fairies the Sylpheeds began to orbit Seville's body, their tiny forms glowing with an ethereal light.
Their wings shimmered like stained glass, catching the light and scattering it in a rainbow of colors. At first, their high-pitched giggles echoed through the cavern, and I thought they were mocking him.
But then, as they looked closer at Seville's face, their laughter faded. Their expressions shifted to remorse, and they gently lowered Seville back to the ground.
As soon as his feet touched the cavern floor, Seville's eyes fluttered closed, and he slumped forward, unconscious. The surge of energy had taken its toll.
Seville had made a pact, unknowingly, with the Sylpheeds. I could sense it. He had gained the ability to use wind magic, to channel the power of the air itself.
But there was something more, something I couldn't quite grasp.
The Sylpheeds... the Codex whispered stories of them, ancient guardians of the Grexion Crystals, playful creatures, often mischievous, but ultimately protectors of the balance.
And Mog... a sudden memory surfaced: Rynveil never mentioned the Grexion Crystal being present when he first met Mog. It clicked into place.
The Sylpheeds, drawn to Mog's loneliness, must have bound themselves to him, becoming his companions, his protectors.
They were the reason the crystal remained hidden for so long, a secret bond forged in solitude. It was all starting to make sense.
"What's happening, Master?" Arin asked, his voice filled with awe and a hint of fear.
He stood beside me, his youthful face etched with concern, his brown hair, brushes against his pointed ears, as he shifted his weight. His hand holding his bow, ready for action.
"I... I don't have any idea," I stammered, my eyes glued to Seville.
But then I felt it the Codex. It was humming, vibrating with a resonance I'd never felt before. It was as if it was calling out to Seville, recognizing something within him.
The pages of the Codex flipped open on their own, stopping at a blank page.
Runes began to appear, glowing with an ethereal light, and an image began to form on the page carving itself into the paper as if guided by an invisible hand.
It was Seville, but not just a portrait. It was an echo of his soul, captured in ink and magic.
Then, the Codex hummed louder, and a series of images flashed through my mind snapshots of Seville's happy moments.
The warmth of the miners' laughter echoing through the tunnels, the camaraderie of shared meals deep underground.
His father's lectures, the wisdom passed down through generations, now etched in Seville's heart. And finally, a single, powerful message resonated within me:
Live on... Seville...
The weight of it all crashed down on me. The unfairness, the loss, the sheer potential that was now awakening within this young boy.
I couldn't help it. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision.
"It's unfair!" I whispered, my voice choked with emotion.
"Why! Why did it have to become like this?"
I glanced at Gideon's unmoving form, a chilling realization washing over me. He saw all of this as an experiment, a way to test his twisted theories about the human soul.
He was a broken necromancer, treating life as his plaything, driven by a desire to prove his warped vision of the world.
He was an innovator, as he claimed, but his innovations were born of cruelty and a complete disregard for human life.
His pale face was frozen in a grotesque smirk, his eyes wide and unseeing.
"No!" I thought, my anger rising.
"Don't use Seville's body for your mischievous deeds. Using his grief was unforgivable."
The Codex in my hand buzzed softly, warning me. The crystal... It wasn't just taking them.
It was changing them. But into what? A weapon? A tool? Something far more sinister?
The crystal cracked again. A deep, grinding sound echoed through the cavern, a sound that spoke of shattered dreams and broken promises. The light inside flashed, and a giant figure stepped out.
Mog.
The golem's stone body had glowing green cracks, pulsing with an unnatural energy. His eyes burned with wild anger, a rage that mirrored the storm within the Grexion Crystal.
Each step melted the rock, leaving behind a trail of molten despair. The miners' chains wrapped around him, like part of his armor, a twisted mockery of his former purpose.
A voice came from the shadows, full of cruel fun.
"Amazing, isn't it? The mix of will and despair. A masterpiece, if I do say so myself."
Gideon walked into the light, limping. One arm hung twisted, a testament to some past defeat. His smirk was as sharp as ever, a predator enjoying its prey.
"Gideon!" I growled, pulling out my sword. He always wants to be the center of attention, doesn't he? Even now, with everything falling apart.
He tilted his head.
"Ah, Kinon. So predictable. Did you think you could stop me? After all this time, you still don't understand the true potential of this world."
"How did you know we were coming?"
I asked, gripping my sword tighter. The air crackled with tension, the weight of our shared history pressing down on us.
He laughed, a low, scratchy sound.
"Why not ask your pet? A slave is always a slave, no matter how much you try to deny it."
His words hit hard, a poisoned dart aimed at my heart. My jaw tightened.
Don't let him get to you, Kinon.
"Lies. You're trying to break us apart. You always have."
"Believe what you want," Gideon said, raising his hands.
"The Grexion crystal... It needs living souls. Your golem friend was just... the easiest to grab. A convenient sacrifice."
He paused, enjoying the moment.
"And now, its power is mine. With it, I will reshape this world."
Before I could move, Mog roared. The sound shook the cavern, making rocks fall.
He charged, but instead of attacking us, he turned towards Gideon, a look of pure, unadulterated rage on his face.
It was clear then: Gideon didn't control him. He had only unleashed him.
Mog grabbed Gideon, lifting him into the air. Gideon's smirk faltered, replaced by genuine fear.
"What? No! I control you! You're mine!"
Mog roared again, and with a single, brutal swing, he smashed Gideon into the cavern wall.
The sound of shattering bone echoed through the chamber, and Gideon slumped to the ground, lifeless.
Arin shot arrows at Mog's chest. They bounced off, useless.
"Useless! He's like a fortress! We need something stronger!"
I ran in, slashing low. My sword clanged off. It barely scratched him. "Damn it! He's too strong!"
"Magic isn't working either," Arin yelled, sounding annoyed.
"It's like he's absorbing it!"
Rynveil's face was tight.
"Of course not. He was made to stop magic. An ancient design, lost to time." His voice was low.
"He's too strong... I should have known. I should have seen this coming."
"What do we do?" I whispered, desperation creeping into my voice.
Rynveil kept his eyes on Mog.
"I'll handle this." Find out what made the crystal bad. There's a source, a key to all of this."
This felt wrong. Like something bad that happened before. A chill went down my spine. If Rynveil gets hurt... I don't want to think about it.
Arin hesitated.
"You think he's involved? Gideon, I mean."
Rynveil nodded.
"He brought something. A piece... A seed of badness. I can feel it. Corrupting everything it touches."
Like with Kael, I thought. I hate remembering that. Gideon's using the same trick, twisting people's hearts.
Arin nodded, looking grim.
"I'll check him."
I turned to Gideon's body, holding the Codex tight.
We'll find it. I have to trust Arin. Don't let your feelings get in the way. Not now.
Rynveil stepped forward.
"Good. Because this... This is my fight. Mine alone."
Mog swung his arm. The ground shook. Rynveil didn't move. The hit landed, making the cavern shake. Dust flew, but Rynveil stood firm, his feet planted like roots in the earth.
My heart jumped.
"Rynveil!" He's going to get killed! I can't just watch.
"Don't interfere!" he yelled over the noise.
"I'll save him. No one else can."
Arin clenched his jaw and lowered his bow.
"We watch," he muttered, sounding worried.
"And hope he knows what he's doing."
Mog attacked again. The air cracked with each hit. Rynveil didn't dodge, didn't block. He took the hits, each one pushing him back, each one a blow against his very soul.
"Come on, old friend," Rynveil whispered.
"You remember this... Right? The training, the bond... It's still there, I know it."
Their fight wasn't new. It was a memory. They had sparred like this before, countless times, under the watchful eyes of the ancient golem masters.
----
Their fight wasn't new. It was a memory.
They had sparred like this before, countless times, under the watchful eyes of the ancient golem masters.
Now, each hit was full of anger and sadness, a twisted reflection of their broken bond.
Rynveil stumbled. Blood ran down his arm. His knees shook. But his eyes stayed on Mog, unwavering.
"You waited too long," Rynveil rasped.
"Do you remember, Mog? When we first met... you weren't this giant. You were just big enough to stand over me, gentle and curious. A protector who never hit in anger."
A look of pain crossed his face.
Sorry for being gone.
Sorry for failing you.
Mog roared again, the sound full of pain. The shard in his head flashed, making him shake.
Rynveil opened his arms wide.
"Then finish it. End my suffering. End yours."
Mog raised his fist, shaking. The light in his eyes flickered, a battle raging within.
The Codex buzzed in my hand. Words appeared on the page, glowing with ancient power:
Break the heart, not the shell.
Then, Mog stopped. His arm shook in the air, frozen mid-swing. The anger in his face began to crumble, replaced by a flicker of confusion.
He stared at Rynveil, his eyes searching, as if trying to grasp something just beyond his reach.
A low rumble came from him, not a roar of anger, but a confused, almost mournful sound. He lowered his arm slowly, his gaze fixed on Rynveil.
There was something familiar in the scene, a sense of déjà vu that washed over him, blurring the lines between the present and something else... something he couldn't quite remember.
Rynveil remained still, his expression unreadable. He watched Mog intently, as if waiting for him to make a choice.
The Grexion shard pulsed erratically, its light flickering like a dying ember. Mog trembled, his massive frame shaking with an internal struggle.
Then, the light from the shard faded completely.
Mog staggered back, his eyes widening in what seemed like a moment of clarity. He looked at his hands, then back at Rynveil, a silent question in his gaze.
The runes on the Codex faded, the book closing gently in my hand. The cavern was silent, the tension thick in the air.
When I looked up, Rynveil was carefully approaching Mog.
The golem was still immense, still powerful, but the rage had vanished, replaced by a profound sense of confusion and... something akin to sadness.
Mog blinked, his massive stone face struggling to form the words.
His voice, when it came, was slow, halting, like a child learning to speak.
"Ryn... veil..." He paused, his brow furrowing in concentration.
"Mo...g... Frie...nd..."
Rynveil's expression softened, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
Arin lowered his bow, his expression a mixture of relief and disbelief.
The pulse in the cavern continued, faint but persistent, a reminder of the bond that had almost been broken.
As we stood there, in the silence of the cavern, I felt a shift. A connection, a bridge forming between us and the golem.
But it was fragile, uncertain.
And somewhere, deep within Mog's consciousness, a spark ignited.
A flicker of awareness, a sense of self beginning to re-emerge from the darkness.
"Where... am I?"