Shirei regained consciousness with a sense of disorientation that forced him to blink his leaden eyelids. He felt his body screaming to run, as a painful memory of the battle against the monsters filled his mind.

Only after those first moments did he realize that he was surrounded by an oppressive darkness. It wasn't the grassy ground where he'd fallen asleep; he was elsewhere, in a completely different place.

This place...

Shirei recognized the familiarity of the surroundings, it wasn't his first time visiting the place. The palace of Rakion, the Lord of the Abyss, shrouded him in its cold, tangible darkness.

The walls were high and dark, built of black stone that seemed to absorb all traces of light. The golden torches scattered along the corridor gave off a weak ocher flame, the source of the little lighting, and projected sinister silhouettes on the walls. The air was thick, charged with an arcane and ancient energy, an echo of powers beyond mortal comprehension. Shirei found himself at the beginning of a long corridor, the ends of which seemed to disappear into the infinite darkness. The floor, paved with black marble and golden veins, resonated under his steps with an echo that seemed to amplify the solitude and mystery of the place. He proceeded with caution. He felt the weight of silence, broken only by the sound of a distant bell and the incessant ticking of a clock. As he advanced, the outlines of the corridor began to take shape more clearly. The ceiling rose in Gothic arches, enhanced by stained glass windows that, despite the lack of natural light, emitted a pale crimson luminescence. At the end of the corridor, an imposing door stood out. Tall and massive, it was forged from a dark metal.

The doors were framed by elaborate columns, carved with demonic figures and shadow creatures, each of which seemed to gaze upon him with empty, menacing eyes. The door gave off an aura of power and intimidation, as if something was hidden behind it that would be best left unrevealed to the world.

Shirei's body stopped in front of the closed door despite his will to continue, his heart pounding in his chest. Every fiber of his being was on alert, his instincts screaming to prepare for whatever might happen. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and focus his thoughts.

Shirei continued to stare at the door, his breathing a little calmer, but his heart still pounding. He started to raise his hand, but a movement to his right made him whirl around.

There, a few steps away from him, was a young man, apparently around the same age as him, who he had met before.

The boy was wearing visibly uncomfortable armor, the edges of which seemed stiff and ill-suited to his physique. The armor was a light pink tending to silver, but adorned with thin golden streaks that ran along the edges and joints, drawing intricate geometric patterns. The golden lines glimmered faintly in the torchlight, adding a touch of elegance and mystery to the young man's figure. The boy's hair was as black as the darkness surrounding it, straight and long enough to cover his eyes. Falling freely across his forehead, they framed delicate, attractive features.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Salix's eyes, a liquid silver with a barely perceptible hint of pink, were directed towards the door.

Shirei wondered what it all meant, realizing that the footsteps he heard earlier were not his, but those of Tefine's son.

“Salix.”

But the boy didn't even look at him, making him doubt the veracity of that scene.

Shirei sensed an aura of unease around Salix, as if the young man was struggling with something internal, an unease that reflected the discomfort of the armor he wore. However, despite the obvious discomfort, there was a firmness in his posture.

“What does all this mean?” Shirei asked, his voice echoing slightly in the silent hallway.

Salix looked up, but did not move and remained waiting in front of the closed doors.

“I'm Salix,” he announced finally.

“I know. What's happening?” Cragar's son asked, curiosity mixed with slight suspicion.

Salix took a step closer to the entrance, his armor making a soft clink with each movement.

The doors opened with an ancient groan, revealing a vast room that seemed to defy the laws of physics and architecture. Salix entered first, striding forward with purpose, and Shirei followed, his eyes wandering to take in every little detail. The royal hall of Rakion was a circular area, the floor of which was decorated with intricate symbols resembling an ancient clock. The lines and numbers intersected in a hypnotic pattern, giving off a light golden luminescence. Salix's every step seemed to resonate with an almost musical echo, as if he were treading on time itself.

The walls, or rather their absence, were replaced by golden columns that stood like pillars in a circle, supporting a scaffolding made up of a thin circular segment without a ceiling.

Purple banners hung from the columns, the billowing fabric appearing alive. Some figures drawn inside whispered words in a language that Shirei couldn't recognize. The banners were embroidered with some symbols, in a lost language that Shirei hypothesized to date back to the third generation: the Age of the Ancients.

He couldn't help but wonder the translation of those words.

Beyond the columns, the nonexistent walls faded into a breathtaking vision of a dynamic galaxy. Twinkling stars and luminous nebulae danced in the void, creating a cosmic panorama that seemed to encompass the entire room.

The sensation he perceived was that of being on an altar in space, a meeting point between the physical and otherworldly worlds.

In the center of the hall, dominating the entire universe with its regal presence, was a golden throne. The seat was massive, ornate with detailed carvings of mythological scenes and epic battles, which Shirei traced to the exploits of the ancient god. It seemed to glow with a light of its own, a fusion of pure gold and divine power. As Cragar's son advanced following Salix inside, he noticed a strange blade floating above the throne.

His first instinct was to trace the scene back to the legendary sword of Damocles, but he quickly suppressed that thought.

The weapon was long and thin, made of a dark metal that contrasted starkly with the golden throne. It had a silver hilt without a guard, while the anthracite-colored blade resembled a strange scythe seen elsewhere.

It seemed to be suspended in the air by an invisible energy, a disturbing force that the violet-eyed demigod traced back to Rakion.

Before he could examine the weapon in even more detail, his attention was diverted by something, or rather someone.

A figure was present beyond the shadow cast by the throne.