Emma’s eyes fluttered open, only to find herself enveloped in a pitch-black void. She stood on what felt like solid ground, though she could see no floor beneath her feet. The air was dense, shrouded in a thick, impenetrable mist that swirled sluggishly around her, obscuring her vision.
She took a cautious step forward, her boots making no sound against the unseen surface. The silence was suffocating, as though the void itself absorbed all noise. Her breaths echoed faintly in her ears, growing heavier with each step as she ventured further into the unknown.
The mist seemed to stretch endlessly, an oppressive presence that wrapped around her like a living thing. No landmarks, no guiding magical lamp... just an unyielding expanse of darkness and fog.
"Where am I?" she murmured, her voice barely audible in the void.
She pressed forward, her steps slow, her heart beat slightly in the unnerving silence. Time felt meaningless here, the minutes.... or perhaps hours blurring together. Just as the weight of uncertainty began to gnaw at her, her forehead collided with something solid.
"Ow!" she hissed, stumbling back as she rubbed the sore spot.
She squinted into the mist and saw the faint outline of a wall rising before her, its surface cool and unyielding under her touch. The structure stretched upward and outward, its edges disappearing into the haze. Running her hands along its surface, Emma moved cautiously, searching for an opening.
Her fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. A door... massive, ornate, and seemingly out of place in this bleak expanse. Its surface was etched with intricate patterns that glimmered faintly in the dim light. Swirling runes and symbols seemed to shift as she stared at them, as though alive with an otherworldly energy.
"Fancy for a place like this," she muttered under her breath,
Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open. It groaned on its ancient hinges, the sound reverberating through the void like the toll of a distant bell. Beyond the threshold lay a grand throne room, its vast expanse cloaked in the same oppressive mist, though less dense than outside.
The chamber was an unsettling mixture of beauty and decay. Pillars of black stone stretched toward a ceiling shrouded in shadow, their surfaces veined with faintly glowing cracks. The floor beneath her feet was smooth, polished obsidian, reflecting the faint light of the runes etched into the walls. Despite its grandeur, the room exuded an air of abandonment, as though it had been forgotten by time itself.
At the far end of the room, a throne loomed, massive and imposing. It was carved from what appeared to be the same black stone, its edges adorned with delicate filigree that shimmered faintly in the dim light. A figure sat upon it... a woman no less, cloaked in darkness, her presence both ethereal and overwhelming.
The hood of her dark robe fell low over her face, obscuring her features, but Emma could feel the weight of the figure's gaze, piercing through the mist. The faint outline of her form was shrouded in a haze that seemed to pulse with an inner light, shifting and twisting like a mirage.
The woman’s lips curved into a small, enigmatic smile.
"O Fate," the woman intoned, her voice soft yet resonant, carrying an authority that sent shivers down Emma’s spine. "May you guide this child to her destiny in this world."
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The words echoed through the chamber, reverberating like the tolling of a great bell. Then the woman’s voice shifted, growing melodic and otherworldly as she began to chant:
"Savanaklingano."
The mist stirred violently, curling and coiling like a living thing. Tendrils of fog reached out, wrapping around Emma’s body. She gasped as the mist tightened, cool and suffocating against her skin. It seeped into her pores, her lungs, her very being, filling her with an overwhelming sensation of power.
The figure on the throne remained motionless, her smile unfaltering.
"Erilania," Emma whispered. "Goddess of Fate... where can I find you? How do I end this?."
The woman’s smile widened slightly,
"You have already found me," she said simply, her voice resonating with a finality that left no room for doubt.
Before Emma could process the words, the mist surged, consuming her completely. Darkness enveloped her, her senses overwhelmed by the weight of it.
And then, her mind went blank.
When Emma’s eyes fluttered open, the dim, ethereal glow of the egg immediately caught her attention. It lay still at her side, its faint luminescence casting an otherworldly light across the smooth obsidian floor. She pushed herself into a sitting position, her body stiff and aching. Turning to her other side, her gaze settled on Maverick.
He sat cross-legged, his posture relaxed but his expression as unreadable as ever. His gaze was distant, fixed somewhere in the shadows of the chamber. The oppressive silence hung heavy until his voice broke through.
“Eleven hours… forty-five minutes… fifty-nine seconds,” he said evenly, his tone devoid of emotion.
Emma blinked, her still-drowsy mind struggling to process his words. “What?”
“You’ve been asleep for eleven hours… forty-five minutes… fifty-nine seconds,” he repeated, his gaze still averted.
Her brow furrowed. “Oh.” She paused, brushing dust off her arms. “Did I really sleep that long?” she muttered to herself, unsure if she had even allowed herself to relax enough for sleep.
Maverick, who had been staring into the distant gloom of the chamber, suddenly turned his head toward her. His sharp eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, it seemed that his usual unreadable demeanor shifted into something colder,
“Did you try to forcefully awaken?” he asked, his voice cutting through the heavy air like a blade.
Emma froze, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, she considered denying it. The words lingered on the tip of her tongue, ready to dismiss the accusation, but she hesitated. There was no use lying... Maverick always saw through her.
She let out a weary sigh, breaking the tense silence. “Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”
Maverick didn’t respond immediately. His piercing gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned away. His silence was heavier than any reprimand, a quiet judgment that cut deeper than words ever could.
Without a word, he stood, brushing dust from his body, and began walking toward the exit of the chamber. “I’m leaving,” he said curtly,
Emma watched him go as a slight smile tugged on her face. He didn’t scold me, She thought.. Didn’t even tell me I’m reckless or trying to kill myself. But she shoved the thought aside, unwilling to linger on it as she knows that's how Maverick has been.
Pushing herself to her feet, Emma reached for the Sword Of Fate she had taken. To her surprise, as her fingers brushed the hilt, the weapon shimmered. The blade dematerialized, dissolving into silvery motes of light that swirled around her wrist. Within seconds, the sword re-formed into the shape of a delicate bracelet, its intricate markings faintly glowing against her skin.
She stared at it in astonishment, the cool weight of the bracelet foreign yet oddly comforting. But there was no time to dwell on the transformation. Grabbing the faintly glowing egg, Emma hurried after Maverick, its smooth surface warm against her palms.
The air in the chamber grew colder as they approached the exit, the faint echoes of their footsteps swallowed by the vast emptiness around them. Together, they stepped out of the chamber, but what awaited them outside was not what they had expected.
The path they had traversed to reach this place... The dungeon path was gone. In its place was a new path, unfamiliar, stretching out into an abyss of shadow and uncertainty.
Emma’s grip tightened on the egg as she exchanged a brief glance with Maverick. Neither of them said a word, but the unspoken truth hung between them: there was no going back.
This was a new path entirely.