The air inside the temple felt suffocating, as though each step pulled them further away from the world outside and deeper into the realm of the unknown. Shadows clung to the walls like living creatures, watching their every movement, whispering secrets they couldn’t understand. The faint glow of the glyphs provided just enough light to keep the path visible, but it did nothing to ease the oppressive feeling pressing down on them.
Eryx kept his sword unsheathed, his eyes darting to every corner, every flicker of movement. The shadows seemed to shift with their steps, and even though no one said it out loud, the tension in the group was palpable. He glanced back at his companions—Lysandra, Astrid, and Celeste—all alert, all ready for anything.
“The magic here is thick,” Astrid muttered under her breath, her staff glowing faintly in the dark. “I can feel it crawling over my skin. It’s… watching us.”
Celeste’s eyes darted around nervously. “Well, that’s comforting. As if walking into a cursed temple wasn’t bad enough, now it feels like the temple itself has eyes.”
Lysandra, ever the warrior, remained silent, but her stance was rigid, her hand never far from the hilt of her blade. She was ready for any threat, physical or magical.
As they ventured further into the temple, the architecture grew more twisted, as if the walls themselves were bending under the weight of ancient power. The path branched off into several directions, but they continued straight, trusting that the main corridor would lead them deeper into the heart of the temple.
Suddenly, the temperature dropped, and the faint whispers grew louder, swirling around them like a chorus of voices from the past. Eryx stopped, holding out his hand for the others to do the same.
“Do you hear that?” he asked quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“Yeah…” Lysandra replied, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the room. “It sounds like… voices.”
Astrid closed her eyes, concentrating. “It’s the shadows,” she said, her voice calm but tense. “They’re trying to get inside our heads. Don’t listen to them. They’ll twist your thoughts, make you see things that aren’t real.”
Eryx nodded, tightening his grip on his sword. “Stay focused. Whatever’s in here is trying to break us down.”
Celeste shivered. “I really, really hate this place.”
They pressed on, the whispers growing louder the deeper they ventured. Strange shapes flickered in the corners of their vision—figures that seemed to materialize from the darkness, only to vanish when looked at directly.
“Do you think these shadows are connected to the relic we’re searching for?” Lysandra asked, her voice low.
Eryx shook his head. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, it’s powerful. We need to be ready.”
The path eventually opened up into a large chamber, the ceiling towering above them, shrouded in darkness. In the center of the room was a massive stone altar, carved with intricate symbols and glowing with the same faint light as the glyphs on the walls. The air here was colder, thicker, as if the very atmosphere was weighed down by centuries of dark magic.
Astrid stepped forward cautiously, her staff held out in front of her as if testing the air. “This… this is the source of it,” she said softly. “The heart of the temple.”
Eryx approached the altar, his heart pounding. There was something about the place—an energy that seemed to hum just below the surface, waiting to be awakened. He reached out, his hand hovering just above the stone surface, when suddenly—
A sharp gust of wind tore through the chamber, extinguishing the light from Astrid’s staff and plunging them into darkness.
“Eryx!” Lysandra called out, her voice urgent.
“I’m here!” he shouted back, his heart racing as he instinctively reached for the others. But the shadows surged around them, thick and suffocating, separating them in an instant.
The whispers grew louder, now clearer, as if they were speaking directly into his mind.
You are not welcome here.
Eryx spun around, trying to locate the source of the voice, but all he saw was darkness. “Stay together!” he yelled, though his voice felt swallowed by the shadows.
But no one responded.
Panic gripped him as he realized he couldn’t see or hear the others anymore. The shadows had separated them, just as Astrid had warned. The cold air wrapped around him like a vice, and the whispers became relentless, crawling into his thoughts.
You cannot escape.
He stumbled forward, his sword cutting through the darkness, though it felt as if he were slicing through nothing. The oppressive feeling grew heavier with each passing second, as if the shadows were feeding on his fear.
“Lysandra! Astrid! Celeste!” he called out, his voice raw, but there was no response.
For a moment, he stood there, breathing heavily, trying to gather his thoughts. This was a test—he knew it. The temple was trying to break them apart, to disorient them and trap them in their own minds.
He had to stay calm. He had to think.
Taking a deep breath, Eryx closed his eyes and focused. The shadows were all around him, pressing in from every direction, but he couldn’t let them control him. He had to fight them, not with his sword, but with his mind.
You are strong, he thought, repeating the words to himself like a mantra. You are stronger than this.
The whispers pushed harder, but he fought back, pushing them out of his mind, focusing on his own thoughts. Slowly, the pressure lifted, and the cold air receded. The darkness didn’t vanish, but it no longer felt as oppressive.
He opened his eyes, and though the shadows still surrounded him, they no longer felt overwhelming. He could move forward now, and that’s exactly what he intended to do.
But first, he had to find the others.
Gripping his sword tightly, he moved carefully through the darkness, calling out for his companions. The temple may have separated them, but he knew they were still there, somewhere in the shadows. They had to be.
“Lysandra! Astrid! Celeste!” he called again, his voice steadier now.
After what felt like an eternity, he heard a faint reply—Celeste’s voice, coming from somewhere to his left.
“Eryx! I’m here!”
Relief flooded through him, and he moved toward her voice, cutting through the shadows until he found her. She looked shaken but unharmed, her bow drawn as if ready to fight.
“Thank the gods,” she said breathlessly. “I thought I was alone.”
“We’re not,” Eryx replied. “We’ll find the others.”
Together, they moved deeper into the chamber, searching for Lysandra and Astrid. The shadows seemed to thin as they moved, no longer as aggressive, though the oppressive atmosphere remained.
It wasn’t long before they found Astrid, sitting against one of the stone walls, her staff dimly glowing in the darkness.
“I lost you,” she said, her voice calm but weary. “The shadows… they’re powerful. We need to be careful.”
Eryx nodded. “One more to go. Let’s find Lysandra.”
But as they ventured further into the chamber, something changed. The whispers quieted, and the shadows seemed to retreat, revealing the altar once more. And standing in front of it, bathed in a faint, eerie light, was Lysandra.
She was staring at the altar, her hand resting on its surface, her expression unreadable.
“Lysandra!” Eryx called out, but she didn’t respond.
The others exchanged uneasy glances as they approached her, the atmosphere growing thicker with tension.
“Lysandra, what are you doing?” Celeste asked, her voice tinged with worry.
But Lysandra didn’t move. She seemed entranced, her eyes locked on the altar as if something were holding her there, drawing her deeper into the darkness.
“Lysandra!” Eryx called again, stepping closer.
But then, the shadows surged once more, enveloping her completely. And just as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone.
