The flames of the small bonfire roared and spitted moving shapes resembling the Easts’ dragons illuminating the still pristine walls of the ancient ruin. While most of their group played around the fire, Utsorion was going through their findings that they could not bring out previously from the ruins as ancient spells kept them in place. They learnt it the first time when Aschwinar tried to bring a few dozen back, when he opened his back previously filled to the brim with scrolls and books, dust welcomed the two friends when he opened it with an excited smirk that quickly curved down as he started cursing himself.

“How’s the first night in a dampened old ruin?” Aschwinar walks up to Utsorion lost in translating the texts, his gaze diverting between his notes and the laid out books and scrolls on a large tablet. “It’s fine so far, comfort leaves a lot to be desired, but I’ll get used to it.” He replies while fervently going through the texts. They mostly describe the monks that used to tend to the shrines of the ancient gods who perished way before their time in the War of the New Dawn. “Anything worthy of note?” Aschwinar asks as he sits down on a pillar that fallen over, its red marble like surface still gleaming in the dim area thanks to the architectural marvel of the elves. “Mostly just their Tenets, some diaries detailing the everyday lives of the monks and a few mentions of some monks feeling conflicted whether to abandon their gods or remain vigilant, hopeful for their return one day.” Utsorion answers with a sigh as he sits down beside him.

Thanks to Skazicreh’s encouragement Utsorion asked to come with them after they returned, still not finding the entrance to the hidden area. Being close to four of them also helped in his persuasion, while the three of the other half, Friedriel who she started out badly during their early years in the academy didn’t mind his presence, Berathyn her younger sister also did not mind for the very same reason. Lastly Akirather who just recently joined their group out of interest in his fellow easterner remained impartial, as he usually went with the flow. The only one who was against it was Adalbernar but he too caved in after Sieghildien talked with him in private. While he didn’t know what her beloved said, it seemed to turn him 180 around, even though the previous day they arrived he showed signs of frustration to watch over him.

“The same as the murals then. No mention of the hidden entrance either?” Aschwinar asks as he slides down to the ground and rests his head on the massive hull, his hair cascading down like a collection of rivers on the red surface. “Actually, it mentions something called an Ona-Sora that will reveals the path.” He opens his small notebook he got from Sieghildien a few decades back, showing his writing below the infernal moonrunes he copied from the tablet they worked on for the past two or three weeks.

“So now we have to search for vials of blood or something like that.” Arschwinar says as he sighs at hearing it. Ancient elven seals are usually activated with the blood of a prominent figure, usually in more modern cases it involves magical crystals imbued with magic that absorbs their blood. Even their descendants can unlock these seals thanks to elves sharing the same blood cells, which in some cases resulted in exiled sons and daughters to rob their parents.

“We should rest now, tomorrow’s going to be a long day too.” Aschwinar says after her mouth opens wide, letting out a loud moan that would awaken even a sleeping dragon. “Agree.” Utsorion adds as he follows suit in a much milder yawn before their hands lock, pulling his friend onto his feet. They join the rest in a friendly banter with Utsorion sitting next to his brother before they go to sleep.

**

“Watch out!” Friedriel screams as the large oni with hardened skin black as a diamond could be glinting with menace to any in the dark area. Her palms open as the large axe of flame and ash strike at Hidetsurial, a buzzing sound mixing in with the cacophony of battle as its hit impacts the blue transparent ward. “Thanks.” With a swift motion, the katana’s slices the hulking torso of the oni in two, its body quickly disintegrating before landing on the smooth ground.

“Mind your surroundings, you ditz.” Friedriel yells while the oni attacking her stops in its tracks, its three-meter-tall body covered in frost before an invisible force shatter it to a thousand pieces that evaporate in the air. “I will.” He replies with a smile on his alabaster face, rushing in front of two yokais made of ethereal black flames emitting a distorted wail. His enchanted katanas slice through them, the flames turn golden before they disappear.

“Thanks, Ber!” A bit further from them, transparent arrows constantly pulsing waves puncture two smaller onis with skin white as the snow, four horns sprouting from their foreheads while their contrasting dark hair cascades down their backs. The arrows fly through them, pulling them back to the wall before they start screaming as space distorts their bodies to pieces. Ascwinar turns and with a smug smile thanks Berathryn, an elven beauty in her own league with meek, doll like face remaining motionless evermore. Her long hair, knotted into a high ponytail calmly follows the motions of her body while melding in with the dim scenery, similarly to her form fitting outfit of elven silken and metal.

A faint smile prompts Aschwinar to turn his reddened face in the direction of her sister, quickly cutting through a group of yokais controlled by an oni clad in kimono bordered by its scorching aura. Its head rolls in the air, beaming with malice as it slowly disintegrates, tainting Sieghildiens’ beauty with its dark blood. Or at least tries to as Adalbernar appears out of thin air with his massive shield crafted to resemble a golden dragon with its wings spread out in protection.

“There my beautiful one.” He says while trying to clean off the little blood that reached her soft skin exposed above her collars. A small puddle of water appears around her then, the blood fragmenting into nothingness as she smiles at him. The mist rising from her radiant outfit disappears while she’s turning around, confirming that the battle is over. She looks around like a lost puppy with glistening calm eyes, worry gripping her heart as she looks for Utsorion. Her gaze meets with Aschwinar’s as his voice in her head calm her down. The group follow in his steps as he heads towards the large open path on the left.

“Should have kept your eyes on him.” Adalbernar scoffs at Akirather as they follow after the rest. As the onis and their yokais turned up, the wall split open silently as Utsorion watched near the entrance protected by his fellow easterner. As more and more yokai assaulted him, Utsorion slipped into the path, following a faint sound that felt familiar.

“I thought we said stay put while we fight.” Friedriel yells at Utsorion who remains frozen, Aschwinar joining beside him as they stare at the same thing. “Are those?” He asks. “Yes, most certainly.” Utsorion swiftly answers in a low voice, while his heart matches the rhythm of the ode, staring at the crystals pulsing with a black light, a crimson red sphere dancing inside possessing a liquid texture.

**

“Stay on guard. We’re reaching the deepest part.” Aschwinar says with a serious look on him as their steps echo through the enormous path. Statues aligning on both sides, facing them in their crumbled state. The sweet ode that haunted Utsorion the past three nights turned into a thrumming following the beating of his heart.

With each step, a stronger beat slips in the rhythm, a tender coldness filling him. His eyes filled with tiredness as the dreamless nights now taking toll on him, something that he thinly veils as his friends overtly check back on him. “We can return at any time.” Aschwinar whispers as he slows his pace to walk besides him.

“I’m fine, just overestimated my durance when it comes to sleeping on the cold hard floor.” Utsorion smiles at him, one that is clear to even Aschwinar that it’s a forced one. “Then let’s return to the mansion and rest. I can always teleport us back.” He puts his hands on his shoulders as he tries to reason him to leave.

“Its fine. I’m really just a bit more tired and anxious. I feel the solution so close.” Utsorion says, his face reflecting the hope he felt after sensing something stirring within him. It was completely different to what the books, his friends, his family described, yet it felt familiar. He felt with just imagination, he could bend the laws of the Maker and their dream. But it was still locked deep inside of his Nym, and the key lies beyond the seal, that he is surer than death itself.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“If you say so. But if you don’t feel alright, or just get injured we’re leaving.” Aschwinar sighs as he realizes that he can’t convince him. They slowly reach the end, a large gate with a frame an amalgamation of bones with the center, an upside-down depiction of the World Tree with tears surrounding it, resembling the jaws of a mighty beast. Utsorion tightens his grip around the crystal painting his palms black as the empty night sky.

“Aschwinar!” Sieghildien calls out to him in the front. “Coming my lovely sister.” She takes a worrying look at him, while Aschwinar walks to the front. This time Hidetsurial took the role of protecting his brother from another mother. “Stay close Brother.” He says as the gate seemingly shatters as Aschwinar touches it, the pieces floating in the air while the thrumming intensifies.

Dried husks sprung forth from the floor, charging at the group. Sieghildien and Adalbernar’s blades cut through the first, desiccated blood bursting out in clouds. Each of the twos’ movements resembling a highly sophisticated dance, supported by the transparent conjured arrows of Berathryn aiming at the large onis in ceremonial garbs, standing in front of two enormous statues of two beautiful figures worn by time.

Spheres of flames tear through the air, between the betrothed. Then their thunderous roars fill the hall, sending burning chunks of dried flesh and bones everywhere. The earth splits open, onis clad in their abyssal armor leaping out and rushing, Akirather moving to intercept them. With his curved golden long sword, he cuts down the first, leaving a diagonal scar on its chest before the oni disintegrates. With his long shield, he blocks the mace of the bulkier oni that pushes him back a few meters, the ground scratching.

The oni emits a bellow as lightning strikes him from behind Akirather, coming from the palms of Friedriel. “You’re welcome!” She says as her golden hair cascades down on to her body clad in crimson robes making movement easier for her.

“Stay close Brother!” Hidetsurial takes a defensive position, standing in front of Utsorion who seems to be away in mind. His attention focusing on where the two oni in ceremonial garbs stand, a large platform in front of the statues clearly erected for the worship of the two Primordial Izanami and Izanagi. The thrumming intensifies to a point he can’t hear the sounds of battle around him. Even the sound of the nearby roaring oni charging at his brother is completely muffled.

It reaches a point where he starts walking towards the platform, clenching the dark crystal in his palms. The more and more oni, yokai and zombies pour in from hidden paths running deep the hidden section, yet a part of him knows that they won’t attack him. The two seem to beckon him towards the center of the platform, their whispers pushed out by the intense thrums piercing his mind. With each step the thrums turn to an ode, then to a sweet melody. Finally, to a deep, resonating voice laced with eons. Reclaim.

**

Utsorion wakes up in a dark, wet place to the sound of water flowing. The last thing he recalls is inserting the key into a hole after his blood dipped on the circle shaped like the world tree, after clutching the jagged crystal. He recalls as Sieghildien, Aschwinar and Hidetsurial screamed his name before darkness enveloped the whole section. Then as if he fell asleep, he floated in a sea of nothingness until he woke up.

He groaned as he slowly peeled his palm off the ground after the blood dried. He turned his head to the sides and noticed Adalbernar laying beside him. His eyes closed and he breathed softly as he dreamt soundly.

Come. The sweet melody echoed through the gaping darkness in front of him, turning into the voice he heard. For a little he hesitated, turning back to the opposite, thinking of at least waiting for one of them to show up, or even for Adalbernar to wake up. But another part of him felt a deep desire to continue on. This feeling intensified with each moment until he gave in and continued on, leaving the dreaming Adalbernar behind.

He traversed the darkness blindly, yet he took each step with confidence, seemingly recalling where to turn and where to continue straight. Then after what felt like a short eternity, he arrived in a large cavern area, where dark waters surround a small island with the very same tree, he vowed his eternal love under to Sieghildien. A cradle with dark velvet draped over it resting under it.

He stepped onto the bridge connecting to it, slowly walking over the obsidian bridge that at first glance appeared to be the work of nature. He carefully stepped closer to the cradle, swinging tenderly in the windless area. Peeking inside, a fetus of swirling darkness greeted him, filling him with a strange calmness, dispelling the fatigue of hundred years of dreamless nights.

“I have to admit, I worried you may decide on returning before reaching this sanctum.” The familiar voice of Skazicreh echoes from behind him. Utsorion swiftly turns around and sees the dark elven gardener in a revealing attire fit for a king or a high priest. His chest exposed with two serpentine tattoos slithering in circles. His long dark hair gushing over hid body, golden decorations adorning it.

“Just like in your previous lives. They were all so close, but in the end turned around and left before finding the… solution.” He continues while gliding slowly besides him, putting his dark clawed hands on the railings. “Was the whole tale of yours just to convince me to come here?” Utsorion asks as feeling suspicious of him.

“No.” He says with a solemn look on his handsome face. “The previous times I did tell lies involving hardships, lost loved ones and so on. But this time, I chose honesty.” He adds just as Utsorion steps away.

“So, what is this place and who are you really?” Utsorion asks, his loud voice echoing.

“A long time ago, this served as a prison of sorts. But through the ages it was a place of many things. Like this is where your parents vowed their eternal love, and the place where you were seeded in all your lives.” Skazicreh starts walking around, seemingly aimlessly as if recalling events from the past.

“And if you choose to take the solution, you will know who I really am… old friend.” Then he turns around and bathes Utsorion in a warm, affectionate smile.

Combine. The voice echoes in his mind, louder than before as Utsorion falls on his knees, clutching his head, memories of all his lives flowing back at the same time going back tens of thousands of years. “He is impatient. I get that.” Skazicreh speaks, gliding towards the cradle, leaning in to caress the fetus of shadows.

“Let me help. Please.” He lifts it out, holding it tenderly between his arms while approaching Utsorion slowly. He gets up while his breathing gets harder at first, then as Skazicreh gets closer and closer, it becomes easier as if a weight is lifted from his chest. His scream echoes through the dark, hidden section as he touches it and falls to the ground. Dark veins appear along his alabaster body as he tears off his robes. His eyes darken, becoming lakes of eternal voids gleaming with the light of entropy.

Then he starts convulsing as something shifts beneath his skin, his body slowly malforming into a more hideous, skeletal shape as if he rapidly lost mass while small horns in the shape of a crown form under his forehead’s skin. “What’s all this?” Adalbernar yells from the other side as he witnesses it all go down.

“Monster. Always knew it!” Utsorion slowly stands back up on his feet. His eyes that once gleamed with kindness, hope now empty and dark, fallen in small craters. An ethereal sword gradually takes shape in Adalbernar’s shape as he speaks with spite approaching the two. “I’ll do it.” As he fastly approaches, Skazicreh’s aura freezes the surroundings as necrotic energies move around. Utsorion puts his hands on his shoulder then steps in front. Then his index finger makes a small movement, then in the next moment Adalbernar falls into the dark river. His cadaver disappearing in the dark waters as his armor pulls it down to the depths.

“Damn it, are you okay?” Skazicreh quickly catches Utsorion as he collapses onto the ground, exhaustion assaulting him not long after Adalbernar’s unceremonious demise. “I’ll be fine… old friend.” He says, his voice carrying an echo deep, and resonating. “Time to leave.” He adds as he tries to get back up.

“Rii!” As he leans on the tree with his hand, slowly gaining back his original form, his heart aches as Sieghildien’s voice reaches his ears. She rushes to him, and the two quickly embrace. “I though I lost you.” She says in her soft voice, trying to sound calm and collected as usual, yet her expression can’t lie to him.

“I’m fine now. Or more than that.” He says while wiping her small tears off her eyes. “What do you mean?” She asks after calming down a bit.

“I found the solution. But it will take some time.” He continues while caressing her hair gently.

“But it’s a road I’ll have to walk alone.” Their lips lock in a tender moment, as light fades through the colorful leaves and branches of the tree. “But we will meet again one day, in another world. I vow this to you.” He continues after mustering all his strength to speak those words. Before she could ask what, he means, he falls into her arms as she slips into a dream in which the two spend their life together.

“Thank you.” He slowly lowers her down to the soft ground, caressing her cheeks with a solemn look. Skazicreh appears once more standing over the two in silence. Then as Utsorion turns back, he grabs his left hand, the two disappearing in a blink of an eye, as if they were never there to begin with…