Celm’s breath came in shallow gasps, his mind a tangled mess of confusion and dread. His body felt as though it were no longer his own, weighed down by an invisible force.

"What was happening to me? Was it real?" His thoughts churned, each one clashing with the next, until nothing made sense.

The world around him had become a blur, a distorted reflection of itself. Nothing felt stable. "Am I... losing my mind?"

A shiver ran down his spine, a cold presence washing over him. He looked up, but the sky seemed endless, a suffocating dark canopy that stretched far beyond his reach.

The wind had stopped. There were no birds, no rustling leaves. Only silence. "This can’t be real… is it all just in my head?"

“Is this real?” he whispered, his voice sounding too fragile in the quiet. “Or am I just… broken?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to steady his mind, but it only made things worse.

His thoughts were fragments—memories of dragons, of something deep within him clawing for control.

"I can’t even trust my own thoughts anymore. What if this is all a dream?"

He gripped the pendant around his neck, but it felt insignificant, just a weight pulling him down. "This thing… it’s supposed to help me?"

The world around him shifted, like the ground itself was moving beneath him. "What’s going on?"

Then, something caught his eye.

A massive, shadowy figure, slowly taking shape in the distance. It grew, towering into the sky, its form indistinct but undeniably massive.

The fog surrounding it swirled, a thick, oppressive mass that seemed to cling to everything. It was like the air itself was alive, suffocating him, crushing him.

Celm’s heart raced. "What is that? What the hell is that thing?"

His mind scrambled, but his body refused to move, locked in place by an invisible force. "I can’t move… why can’t I move?"

His fingers tightened around the pendant. The cold metal pulsed against his skin, faint, but growing stronger.

The shadowy figure in front of him shifted again, the fog thickening.

"I have to get out of here... I have to—"

The pendant flared with blinding light.

A rush of warmth flooded his chest, and for a moment, everything went still. The oppressive fog receded, and the shadowy figure—the Sepulcher—wavered, like a ghost caught in the fading light.

Celm’s thoughts began to clear, slowly, like dust settling. His vision sharpened, and his breath steadied.

"Wait… it’s working? The pendant… it's doing something!"

The weight that had crushed him lifted, but it wasn’t gone completely. He was still trapped here. Still unsure.

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

"But I can breathe again. I need to figure this out."

The Sepulcher’s form flickered again, retreating, its presence melting into the darkness like a dream fading at dawn.

The fog thinned, and the world came back into focus.

Celm could hear the faint rustling of leaves, the soft murmurs of the trees as they swayed in the wind, but something wasn’t right.

He crouched down, eyes darting to the ground, trying to make sense of it all. "What is this place?"

The rocks beneath his hands felt cold, solid, but when he pressed one to his ear, a strange sound echoed—like the rocks were breaking, but when he looked, there were no cracks, no damage.

“What the hell is going on?” he muttered to himself. “Is this real, or am I losing it?”

His thoughts were still jumbled, his mind far from whole, but there was enough clarity to form a plan.Or at least, an idea.

"I need to find a way out. I can’t stay here. This place… this thing… it’s not natural."

“I need to find a way out,” he whispered, more to himself than anything. “There must be an escape… somewhere…”

The wind shifted again, brushing against the back of his neck, and suddenly, the sounds of the forest grew louder—closer.

Trees began to creak and groan, and the ground seemed to tremble beneath him. Something’s coming.

"What is that?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, a primal fear bubbling in his chest.

He glanced over his shoulder, but there was nothing there. Still, the feeling of being watched lingered.

"I can feel it… I’m not alone."

Celm’s eyes darted to his surroundings. He needed to hide.

"I have to hide. I can’t be seen."

Without thinking, he scrambled behind a tree, heart pounding in his chest, every sense alert.

"Please… let it pass."

The sounds of the forest grew louder, the trees creaking and cracking as though something massive was making its way toward him.

The air felt heavier, charged with an unknown energy. "What is it? What’s coming for me?"

And then, as quickly as it started, the world went silent.

Celm froze, holding his breath, peeking around the trunk of the tree. His heart skipped a beat when his eyes landed on the ground in front of him. It wasn’t the dragon he expected to see—it was far worse.

An enormous eye. A dragon’s eye.

The pupil was a dark abyss, impossibly deep, and it locked onto him.

Celm’s heart slammed against his ribs. His body trembled, his breath hitching in his throat.

"No... no, no, no..."

The feeling of inevitability washed over him, the dread sinking deep into his bones.

"It’s over… this is it. I can’t run from this…"

His thoughts began to fragment again, spiraling. “I can’t—”

he started to say, but his legs were already moving before his mind could catch up.

He bolted, running with everything he had, feet crashing against the ground, heart racing.

Behind him, the ground shook with every step of the pursuing dragon. The roar reverberated through the air, filling his ears and vibrating his very head.

The trees and rocks flew past in a blur, the world becoming a cacophony of sound and motion.Celm pushed himself harder, his lungs burning.

"I can’t stop. Not now. Keep moving. Just keep moving."

The air was thick, choking, and the sky—dark and raging with clouds—seemed to close in around him. His mind was a mess.

"Why is this happening? What did I do to deserve this?"

But then, just as he was about to crash into a tree, the pendant flared to life again.

This time, the light wasn’t just bright—it was sharp, cutting through the darkness like a blade. Celm’s vision blurred, flickering between shades of white and black. The world slowed.

The dragon’s movements became sluggish, its massive wings barely lifting off the ground.

For a brief moment, everything seemed to freeze in time. The oppressive weight in Celm’s chest lessened, replaced by a strange, calm relief.

"It’s working. I can move."

Celm didn’t hesitate. He used the brief moment to push forward, his body moving faster than it had before.

The pendant gave him a sense of clarity, a sliver of hope. "This is my chance."

But it wouldn’t last long. He could feel it—the light was already beginning to fade.

The dragon roared again, its wings flapping violently as it regained its momentum. It took to the sky, its form rising higher and higher into the air, its shadow swallowing the ground below.

As it flew, it muttered something, its voice carrying down to Celm, a whisper in the wind.

“Fascinating... A pendant of those beings. Truly unique. But to think I would find it here… What is the Sepulcher planning?”

The dragon’s body twisted and shifted, its massive form morphing into something else. A human.

“So this is what it feels like to be human,” the dragon’s voice rumbled, now in a deep, almost contemplative tone. “I’m used to it, but... it’s still strange. Almost alien. Nevertheless, I’ll try some ways to find him.”

The figure—vanished

into the night, leaving behind only the quiet whispers of the forest and the fading light of the pendant.