The night was still, the air heavy with the quietude that only deep slumber brings. Eldric lay on his bed, the exhaustion of the day's intense training weighing down on him. His mind drifted into sleep, sinking into the darkness that enveloped him like a shroud. For a time, all was peaceful—his breathing steady, his mind at ease. But as the night deepened, something stirred within the recesses of his subconscious, pulling him into a dream that was anything but restful.
The world around him twisted and blurred, the comforting familiarity of his room dissolving into an oppressive gloom. When the mist cleared, Eldric found himself standing once more in the ancient castle of the lich, the very place where he had first awakened in this world. The air was thick with the scent of decay and the faint whisper of forgotten souls. Cold stone walls rose around him, draped in shadows that seemed to pulse with a life of their own.
The castle was as he remembered it, but somehow more sinister. The darkness clung to every surface, and the distant sound of dripping water echoed through the halls like a death knell. Eldric's heart pounded in his chest as he took a step forward, the sound of his boots on the cold stone floor unnervingly loud in the silence.
He moved through the familiar corridors, each turn bringing him closer to a deep sense of dread that gnawed at his resolve. The castle felt alive, watching him with unseen eyes, and the shadows seemed to shift and move in the corners of his vision, as if eager to swallow him whole. There was a presence here—something dark and ancient, lurking just beyond the edge of his perception.
As Eldric rounded a corner, he saw it—the throne room, its massive doors standing open as if inviting him in. The room beyond was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from two flickering green flames that hovered in the distance. Swallowing his fear, Eldric stepped forward, drawn inexorably toward those flames, toward the figure that awaited him.
The throne room was vast, its high ceilings lost in shadow. The air was colder here, and the silence more oppressive. At the far end of the room, seated upon the throne, was a figure cloaked in darkness. The dim light of the green flames illuminated the edges of a black hood, obscuring the figure's face. Yet, even without seeing, Eldric knew who it was.
The lich.
The ancient, malevolent being who had brought him into this world, who had tortured and experimented on Eldric's current body, Eldric Thorne, leaving behind a trail of pain and suffering. The same being who had sought to claim the power of the Mana Eyes for his own twisted purposes.
The lich sat motionless on the throne, one skeletal hand resting on the armrest, the other clutching a staff crowned with a glowing green crystal. The shadows around him writhed as if they were alive, and the air was thick with a palpable sense of dread.
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Eldric tried to speak, to demand answers, but his voice was caught in his throat, choked off by the overwhelming fear that gripped him. His body felt heavy, as if the very air was pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. He wanted to run, to escape this nightmare, but his feet were rooted to the spot, refusing to obey his commands.
Slowly, the lich's head began to rise, and as it did, the green flames within the depths of his hood flared brighter, illuminating the gaunt, skeletal features of his face. The burning orbs of light that served as his eyes locked onto Eldric, and a wave of cold, numbing terror washed over him.
For a moment, the two stared at each other in silence, the lich's gaze piercing through Eldric as if seeing into his very soul. Then, with a voice like the grinding of bones, cold and hollow, the lich spoke.
"I will come soon."
The words echoed through the throne room, resonating within Eldric's mind, each syllable dripping with malice and a promise of impending doom. The green flames in the lich's eyes flared once more, burning brighter, hotter, as if fueled by some dark power.
The shadows around the throne surged forward, enveloping Eldric, wrapping around him like tendrils of cold, suffocating darkness. Panic surged within him as he tried to struggle, to break free from the nightmarish grip, but the shadows held him fast, dragging him down into the depths of the abyss.
The last thing Eldric saw before the darkness swallowed him whole was the lich's face, those burning green eyes, and the cruel, twisted smile that stretched across his skeletal visage. The promise of his words lingered in the air, a forewarning of a terror yet to come.
And then, with a start, Eldric awoke.
His body jolted upright, drenched in cold sweat, his heart pounding in his chest as if it would break free from his ribcage. The room around him was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. For a moment, Eldric sat there, gasping for breath, his mind struggling to shake off the lingering terror of the dream.
It had felt so real, so vivid, as if he had truly been back in that accursed castle, standing before the lich. The memory of those green flames burned in his mind, and the words echoed in his ears like a sinister refrain.
"I will come soon."
The fear that had gripped him in the dream still clung to him, making it difficult to think clearly. But Eldric knew, deep down, that this was no ordinary nightmare. It was a warning—a premonition of something dark and terrible on the horizon.
He forced himself to calm down, taking deep, steadying breaths. The dream might have been a message, but he could not allow it to cloud his judgment or distract him from his path. Whatever the lich had planned, Eldric would be ready.
But as he lay back down, trying to find sleep once more, a lingering unease settled over him. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed darker, more threatening, and the silence more oppressive than before. The night felt like it was watching him, waiting.
The words echoed again in his mind, a chilling reminder of the threat that loomed over him.
"I will come soon."
And as Eldric drifted back into an uneasy sleep, he couldn't shake the feeling that the lich's return was closer than he dared to imagine.