The old doors came loose with a hard shove. It creaked and groaned as it was pushed open and kicked up dust. The interior designs were much like the exterior. They were a little less weathered but still had not held up well. The moss had found a way inside and crept along the sides. Other plants crept in at corners. Elias stepped in first and paused at the doorway.

Tears welled up in his eyes. Elias knelt as he looked over the bone-strewn main hall. His heart stopped for a moment. If the others spoke he didn’t hear them. He let the tears come down his face.

Elias stood at the Sword Temple's threshold, its once-majestic structure now a mere skeleton of its former glory, consumed by nature's relentless embrace. The air was thick with the scent of decay and ancient stone, a mute testament to the fleeting nature of even the greatest of human endeavors. Here, amidst the ruins, Elias was confronted not just by the physical remnants of his past but also by the ghosts of his choices, the echoes of a path he had once walked with unwavering conviction.

Stepping into the temple's shadowed halls, Elias felt the weight of sorrow and regret bearing down on him. Each step was a journey through memories long buried but never forgotten. The walls, entwined with creeping vines and moss, whispered tales of a time when clashing swords and laughter filled the air. In his mind's eye, Elias saw the young warriors training, their faces alight with determination and hope, now forever lost to the merciless tides of war and time.

The stillness of the temple was oppressive, the silence broken only by the distant calls of birds and the rustle of leaves in the wind. Elias walked through the corridors, his footsteps echoing hollowly, a solitary figure in a vast mausoleum of dreams and aspirations. The grand training hall, once the heart of the temple, lay before him, its great doors hanging off their hinges, the interior exposed to the ravages of the elements.

Inside, the remnants of training dummies and weapons littered the floor, covered in a shroud of dust and cobwebs. The once polished floorboards were now warped and rotten, each step a stark reminder of glory and honor's impermanence. The banners that had hung proudly from the rafters, symbols of the temple's illustrious heritage, were now faded and tattered, their vibrant colors dulled by the passage of time.

Elias's gaze fell upon the central dais, where master’s would have once stood, overseeing their charges' training. It was here, in this very hall, that he had honed his skills, where he had been molded into the warrior he had become. It was here too, that he had learned the values of discipline, honor, and sacrifice – values that now seemed like distant echoes in a world torn asunder by war and corruption.

Elias was washed over by a wave of grief and guilt. He was away when the temple fell. Not even fighting. Not even preparing for further battle, but instead, he had run. He had let himself be taken away to the capital and then further and further north. It wasn’t until he learned the news that he realized that it was too late. He had left it all behind. But his absence had left a void, one that had been filled by the chaos and destruction that had eventually consumed the temple. The realization struck him with the force of a physical blow, the weight of his choices, his mistakes, crashing down upon him.

As he stood there, amidst the ruins of his past, Elias felt a profound sense of loss, not just for the temple and his fallen comrades, but for the part of himself that he had left behind. The youthful idealism, the unshakeable belief in the righteousness of their cause, had been eroded by the harsh realities of war, leaving behind a man who was all too aware of the complexities and compromises of life.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Behind him, Alice and Thompson followed inside watching, staring at the destruction. Old carcasses of dead monsters were spread throughout the interior. Swords lay on the ground next to their former masters. The people inside had done everything they could to protect the temple from the invading corrupted monsters. They stayed silent as Elias took everything in. They weren’t even sure he would hear them if they said anything.

Elias's steps echoed hollowly as he crossed the Sword Temple's threshold. The weight of his past decisions bore down on him, each echoing footfall a reminder of the time lost, the opportunities squandered. He felt the sorrow of this hallowed place, the walls whispering tales of battles fought, of lives lost.

"I can't believe it's still standing after all these years," murmured one of his companions, a hint of awe in their voice.

Elias barely registered the words. His mind was adrift in a sea of memories, of what-ifs and could-have-been. He had been away, too caught up in his own struggles, while the very foundation of his past crumbled and bled.

The air inside the temple was thick with the scent of age and disuse. Cobwebs clung to the corners, and a fine layer of dust covered the once gleaming floors. The silence was oppressive, a stark contrast to the vibrant life that once filled these halls.

"You think we'll find anything useful here?" another companion asked, their voice breaking the solemn stillness.

Elias remained silent, his gaze fixed on a faded tapestry depicting a scene of victory and valor. How many had fallen here, believing in a cause, in a hope that he had abandoned?

"Hey, Elias, you alright?" a concerned voice cut through his reverie.

He didn't respond. The voices of his companions faded into the background, mere whispers against the roaring tide of his own thoughts. Elias remembered the pride he once felt walking these halls, the sense of purpose. Now, those feelings were replaced by a numbness. He had turned his back on his destiny, on those who had relied on him.

The temple, with its silent judgment, seemed to echo his remorse. The walls held the memories of his past, of a time when he could have made a difference, and could have changed the course of fate. As his companions explored, Elias remained rooted to the spot, lost in his thoughts. The temple was a mirror to his soul, a reflection of the warrior he once was, and the man he had become.

He thought of the paths he had chosen, the decisions that had led him to this moment. It was a crossroads, not just for him, but for the world that lay beyond the temple's ancient walls. Elias realized that the weight of his past could either crush him or forge him anew. The temple, a monument to both glory and tragedy, stood as a testament to the choices one must make, and the sacrifices that come with duty.

As he stood there, enveloped in the temple's sorrowful embrace, Elias knew it was time to confront his past, to embrace his destiny. The road ahead would be fraught with peril, but he could no longer hide from the call of duty.

With a deep, steadying breath, Elias finally turned away from the tapestry, from the ghosts of his past. It was time to face the future, to right the wrongs of yesterday. The Sword Temple, with its echoes of sorrow and regret, had awakened something within him.

"I'm ready," he said softly, more to himself than to his companions. "Let's find what we came for." Elias looked up while only half focused on the present.

“Why don’t you lead the way,” said Alice. She paused for a moment. “You know this place better than us. We will help you search for the documents. Just tell us what to do.” He nodded in response.

“I’ll show you the way… I think I remember.”

Elias turned slowly looking around the courtyard they were in one last time. He took the time to reminisce and then push away the memories to focus on the present. Alice needed the final sword form. She needed him and that was all that mattered now. He couldn’t change the past. That time had long gone.