Today, I was granted access to the Emperor's throne room. As I walked beside him, I found the chamber… unsettling. I had imagined the scent of sandalwood and heavy incense, aromas I associated with power and order. But the air here felt… displaced. It was thick, oppressive, carrying the cold, metallic tang of aged stone and dust—like a freshly opened crypt.
There were no guards in gleaming armor. No royal advisors or nobles awaiting an audience. There was only the Emperor—Hana's father—and myself, standing in opposition.
He had forsaken his arrogant throne to stand on the same marble step as I. It was a leveling of status that left me more disconcerted than honored. His gaze was stripped of its usual ruler's condescension. In its place was a grave seriousness, an almost painful focus, the look of a man burdened by a secret that could reshape the kingdom.
Then he spoke.
"Einov." His voice was deep and resonant, not from volume, but because the room itself seemed to hold its breath to listen. Each syllable echoed off the stone walls with a strange, lingering resonance.
"You completed the Mountain of Trials. But that was merely the preamble."
I remained silent, but my mind was screaming. Preamble? I flashed back to the biting cold of the jagged cliffs, the agonizing jolt of electricity as he, in his fury, summoned a lightning storm. It had taken every ounce of will, every nascent spark of power in my veins, just to survive. I had thought that was the final test.
Hana's father seemed to read my thoughts. "That was to confirm your will and courage. More importantly, to see how you would react when faced with overwhelming power. Had you taken even one of those blows directly, you would not be standing here."
He stepped closer, his eyes boring into me. "But you didn't. You evaded, even as I attacked. You sought to understand my rage. You passed the test of temperament and reflex, which is what matters most."
"But to awaken the true power sleeping in your bloodline, you require a far greater trial."
I swallowed, the air thick with the gravity of his words. The pressure in my chest was immense. I understood this wasn't an order, not a king's decree to a subject. This was an initiation, an undeniable truth being laid bare by fate.
He continued, his voice lowering to a whisper that carried the weight of ages.
"The true trial lies elsewhere. A land I know only from the oldest records, texts sealed away even before the first king of this realm took the throne."
With that, he turned. Not towards the main hall's grand entrance, but to the cold stone wall behind the throne. He motioned for me to follow. He reached out to a massive tapestry depicting a dragon, the symbol of royal power. But instead of stroking it, he pressed firmly on the dragon's ruby eye.
A dry, heavy thud echoed. Dust trickled from the ceiling. The entire tapestry, along with a large section of the stone wall behind it, slowly receded, revealing a lightless passage. A rush of cold, musty air, smelling of forgotten time, washed over us, making me shudder instinctively.
We entered. The corridor was narrow and dark, barely wide enough for one person. Sconces were set far apart, their feeble light doing little more than pushing back the immediate darkness, casting strange, dancing shadows on the rough-hewn stone. The dust was thick underfoot, proof that no one had walked here for a very, very long time.
"My ancestors sealed this passage after the last to carry the Einov bloodline passed through it... and never returned," Hana's father said, his voice echoing in the tight space. "They feared it. They feared the power it represented. They chose to forget, to build a kingdom on law and steel, rather than magic and destiny."
I could hear the sorrow in his voice. "Then why are you opening it?" I asked.
He didn't turn. "Because forgetting does not make it disappear. The ancient powers are stirring. The Mountain of Trials wasn't just a test for you; it was a beacon. Our enemies have sensed your return. They are looking for you. My kingdom of law and steel cannot stand against what is coming without the power you carry. I open it because I have no other choice. You are our only hope."
The words settled on my shoulders, heavier than any armor. I wasn't just fighting for myself. I was fighting for everyone.
Finally, the narrow hall opened into a vast expanse. We stopped before a circular chamber. The ceiling was impossibly high, lost in the gloom above, yet there were no supporting columns. The entire room seemed carved from a single block of bizarre black stone, a material that didn't reflect the torchlight but seemed to absorb it.
But what dominated the space, what stole my breath, was the colossal stone gate.
It was unlike any architecture I had ever seen. It had no doors, no hinges. It was simply a monolithic archway, at least thirty feet high, standing alone. Its surface wasn't smooth but carved with an intricate, chaotic web of ancient sigils. They were not static. They pulsed with a faint, ethereal energy, a pale green light that waxed and waned like a heartbeat.
I recognized it instantly. Tasico. The symbols were identical to what Hana had tried to show me, but infinitely more complex, more ancient. They seemed alive.
"This is the 'Tasico Gate,'" the Emperor explained, his voice filled with reverence. He paused, giving a slight bow to the massive structure.
"It was not built by human hands. It was here before my ancestors laid the first stone of this palace. It does not lead to any place on a map of this world. It leads to a demi-plane, a pocket reality forged in antiquity."
Hana's father looked up, the gate's eerie green light playing across his stern features.
"It was created for a single purpose: to train the greatest warriors, those who carry the special bloodline. The blood of Einov. The place is called... the 'Valley of Echoes.'"
I stepped closer, drawn by the power thrumming from it. It was like a low-frequency hum that vibrated deep in my bones. I reached out and lightly touched the cold surface. Instantly, the sigils beneath my fingertips flared, the green light brightening. They seemed to sing, a strange resonance that shot directly into my mind, carrying with it a sense of profound age and infinite loneliness.
I snatched my hand back, my heart pounding. The Emperor looked unsurprised.
"It recognizes you. It has been waiting."
He faced me, the reverence gone, replaced by the steel of a general before a life-or-death battle.
"Listen carefully, Notug. When you cross this threshold, you will face three harsh conditions. Three trials designed to break you and rebuild you."
"First," he held up one finger, "Language. Every creature, every entity within the Valley of Echoes, speaks only the ancient Tasico tongue. You will not understand them, and they will not understand you. You must learn to exist without words. You cannot ask for directions, beg for food, or call for help. This is the first trial, to sharpen your senses. When words are useless, you will be forced to listen with your will, to see with your intuition, and to feel the true intent of others."
My mind reeled. Alone in a strange place was bad enough. Now, effectively deaf and mute. I thought of Hana, wishing desperately she could be here.
"Second," he continued, his tone forbidding any weakness. "Solitude. I, Hana, Quick—none of us can accompany you. This gate possesses an ancient magic. It does not recognize faces or titles. It recognizes blood. It will only permit one who carries the true blood of Einov to pass. Anyone else who tries will be torn apart by raw energy. You will be entirely on your own. No one to shelter you. No one to give you answers. Every mistake will be paid for by you, and you alone."
Solitude. I had never truly known it. But now, I faced an absolute, alien loneliness.
"And finally," he said, "your objective. This is the most critical part. You are not going there to hide. You are going with a specific mission. Your task is to find the 'Ancient Lighthouse' at the valley's center."
He paused, ensuring my complete focus.
"According to the records, that Lighthouse is the power source that sustains the entire demi-plane. It is the heart of the valley. Currently, it lies dormant. Only when you find it and activate it—using the dormant power within you, the very essence of your bloodline—will the gate to return home open."
Hana's father stared directly into my eyes.
"And if you fail? If you cannot find it, or if you find it but are not strong enough to activate it... this gate will never open for you again. You will be trapped in the Valley of Echoes forever, just another echo among the countless failed souls who came before you."
The pressure of his words was crushing. To go alone, into an unknown land, facing a language I couldn't speak and an impossible task, with the price of failure being eternal imprisonment. A cold dread snaked down my spine, making my knees tremble.
But deep inside, beneath the fear, something else was rising. A spark of excitement, of curiosity. A resilience honed by years of being an outcast. This was the only path. This was the answer to who I am. I had lived a quiet life, but destiny had chosen otherwise. I had to survive, to do things I had never experienced, never understanding the pressure they held. I took a deep breath, steadying my racing heart. I gave the Emperor a sharp nod. I understand.
Just then, shouting and the clang of metal echoed from the narrow hallway.
"Get out of my way! You can't stop me!"
Hurried, heavy footsteps, and then Quick burst into the room, followed closely by Hana, her face pale but her eyes resolute. She was breathing hard from running.
"Your Majesty!" Quick roared. "What in the hells do you think you're doing? Why are you sending my friend into that thing!" He pointed at the glowing Tasico Gate.
"Quick!" King HaiJa boomed, his voice calm but layered with absolute authority. "You are a minor noble. This does not concern you!"
"It is my concern!" Quick yelled back, all respect forgotten. "That's my brother-in-arms! Because I'm his friend—"
I cut him off. "Quick! I know you're my best friend, but... we're both past twenty, and I've never explored anywhere... " I suddenly felt the urge to cry, but why couldn't I? Quick looked stunned. He stared at the friend he'd known since childhood, the friend he'd reconnected with just four weeks ago. And now he had to leave.
Hana rushed to my side, her eyes wide with undisguised panic. Tears welled, but she bit her lip, fighting them back.
"You really have to go?" she asked, her voice trembling, threatening to break.
I looked at her, and my own forced composure fractured. I managed a tight, crooked smile. "I have to, Hana. This is something I need to do. For me. And for everyone."
Hana said no more. She knew it was useless to argue. Instead, she pressed two items into my hands. The first was a small, worn-out leather-bound book.
"Here..." she sniffled. "It's a simple Tasico dictionary. I tried to write down everything I know, every sigil I've deciphered from the ruins. It's... it's not much... and many of the words are just guesses... but maybe it will help."
I took the book, a testament to her effort, her attempt to repay me. It felt more valuable than any sword.
Then she handed me a bulging cloth sack. A small, watery smile touched her lips. "And this is food for the first few days. Honey-cakes and dried meat. The expensive kind! Because... I... I don't know if there's anything to eat there."
"Thank you, Hana."
Quick stepped forward. His anger was gone, replaced by a quiet, profound sadness. He said nothing, just clapped me hard on the shoulder, a blow that nearly staggered me. His voice was thick when he spoke.
"You... you just make sure you come back stronger, you hear me? Don't you dare die some stupid death. I'll take care of things here."
He then unstrapped a thick, worn leather bracer from his brawny forearm. It was lined with a thin sheet of metal. He fastened it securely to my own wrist. "This is a charm. A rare heirloom in my family. If you're in real danger, use it."
I looked at my two friends. Hana, openly crying now. Quick, who had turned away, pretending to study the stone wall. I looked at Hana's father, who nodded once, his expression solemn.
Fear and determination warred within me. I took one last deep breath, savoring the familiar smell of the air. I clutched the dictionary and felt the rough leather of the bracer on my wrist. Finally, I nodded to them all.
"Goodbye. Wait for me. I'll be back one day."
With that, I turned, and without a shred of hesitation, I walked straight into the stone archway.
The moment my body crossed the threshold, the world exploded.
It wasn't like stepping through a door. It was like being submerged in a freezing, rushing river. A blinding, pure, and violent white light erupted, enveloping me, obliterating all sight.
I felt a powerful, irresistible pull, dragging me forward. The world around me didn't just blur; it disintegrated. My ears popped, not from a loud noise, but from the absolute absence of sound, a terrifying vacuum that was instantly filled by a million whispers. The Echoes. They were the sound of wind screaming through alien canyons, of ancient words spoken and dissolved, of the cries of those who had failed.
My body felt stretched, pulled apart molecule by molecule. I no longer felt gravity, no longer felt the floor beneath my feet. I was adrift, tumbling in a chaotic storm of raw energy.
In the final moment before consciousness fled, as the light began to fade to an encroaching darkness, I saw one last image of my world: Hana's father, standing like a statue; Quick, his arm half-raised as if to pull me back; and Hana... she was crying.
Their figures blurred, shrank, and then vanished completely into the sea of light.