The air below was not merely cold—it was lifeless.
No movement.No breeze.No echo.
Even their steps felt muted, as though the darkness swallowed the sound before it formed.Aarinen led, shard in hand, its faint glow the only star in that subterranean void.
Saevel followed close, her shadow long and thin against the rock.Torren limped down the rough incline, muttering curses with every step.Rafi clung to Torren's cloak as if the floor itself were hunting him.Lirael brought up the rear, her runes dim but ready.
The cavern sloped downward like the inside of a massive bowl.The stone grew smoother the deeper they went, until the ground felt almost polished beneath their boots.
Rafi whispered, "Why is the ground shiny?"
Lirael answered softly.
"Because many things have been dragged across it."
Torren groaned. "Dragged? What kind of things?"
Lirael didn't answer.
Aarinen didn't ask.
He knew what would be dragged here:children taken from the surface,threads severed,voices silenced.
The hollow below—the Keeper's deepest vault.
Where forgotten lives were hoarded like dust.
The shard pulsed faintly.
Saevel's hand hovered near her dagger. "How close?"
Aarinen listened.
Not to the stone.Not to the silence.To the faint, fragile thing hidden within it.
Eryna's breath.Not memory.Not echo.Real.
"Close," he whispered.
The First Hall Beneath
The slope ended at a stone arch tall enough to swallow a giant.It opened into a room whose walls curved inward like a cradle—or a tomb.
Symbols lined the stone—the same glyphs he had seen in the tunnels above,but older.Sharper.Written with a carver's hand that trembled from knowing exactly what it was destroying.
Rafi took one look at them and whimpered,"They're watching us."
Torren sighed. "Everything in this place watches us."
"No, no—literally!" Rafi stammered. "The shapes… they move!"
Lirael stepped closer.
The glyphs were indeed moving—shifting from line to spiral,from spiral to eye,from eye to broken shape,each pattern dissolving before it could be fully understood.
"It's memory flux," she whispered."This chamber is unstable."
Torren frowned. "Meaning…?"
"It remembers too much," she said.
A low hum vibrated through the floor—like the groan of stone bearing too much weight.
Rafi clung to Torren again.
Aarinen didn't pause.
The shard pulled toward a second arch on the far side.
He walked toward it.
Saevel hissed, "Slow down."
Aarinen didn't.
The deeper they descended, the stronger her voice became.
"…Aari…"
He had heard it faintly before.But now—
He heard it clearly.
A whisper into his bones.
A plea.A warning.A memory of love.
"…please… don't trust him…"
His steps quickened.
Saevel caught his shoulder."Aarinen—stop!"
He turned to her sharply.Too sharply.
Her eyes narrowed."You're not thinking."
"I'm listening," he said softly.
"To her."
Saevel's grip tightened."And I'm listening to you. And you're shaking."
Aarinen looked down.
His hand trembled violently—not from fear,but from rage.
From the truth he was beginning to understand:
Eryna had not been stolen because she was dangerous.
She had been stolen because someone feared what she saw.
The shard flared.
The second archway opened.
And they entered the second hall.
The Chamber of Unmade Things
This hall was worse.
Not visually.
Emotionally.
Aarinen felt it before he even crossed the threshold—a pressure behind his eyes,a weight on his chest,a memory that was not his own.
Saevel inhaled sharply.Torren froze mid-step.Rafi made a tiny, terrified squeak.
Lirael whispered,"This is where the Keeper stored the souls taken before he perfected erasure."
The walls were covered in handprints.
Tiny ones.Large ones.Clawed ones.Human ones.
Some curled in despair.Some reaching outward.Some pressed so hard the stone cracked beneath them.
Rafi fainted again.
Torren let him fall. "He'll be fine."
Lirael's voice shook."Each print is a final gesture. A final plea."
Aarinen stared at one near his shoulder height—a small hand, five delicate fingers, pressed deep into the stone, trembling with the memory of fear.
He reached toward it.
Saevel grabbed his wrist."Don't."
"I know," he whispered.
She didn't release his wrist."Promise."
He looked at her.
Her eyes—sharp, steady, fiercely alive—anchored him.
"I promise."
She released him slowly.
The shard pulsed again.
This time not towards a forward passage—but toward the floor.
Torren raised an eyebrow."Down again?"
Lirael crouched."A concealed entrance."
Saevel knelt beside her."What kind?"
Lirael swallowed.
"A memory seal."
Rafi, regaining consciousness, wailed, "Please stop finding new forms of suffering!"
The stone beneath Aarinen's feet vibrated.He knelt.
Pressed the shard against it.
A crack of light spread outward—iridescent, thin, trembling.
The stone dissolved beneath him.
A hole opened.
Aarinen nearly fell in—Saevel grabbed him again.
Torren peered inside.
"…stairs?" he said, incredulous.
Lirael nodded."Because the Keeper wanted access."
Torren groaned."Of course he did."
Aarinen descended first.
The others followed.
The darkness below was thicker.Colder.Still.
And then—
Light.
Weak.Faint.White.
Aarinen's breath caught.
He had entered a circular chamber—small, barely large enough for five people to stand.
In the center:
A pedestal.
On it:
A sphere of pale glass.
Inside the sphere:
A flicker.
A shape.
A small girl curled as if asleep.
Eryna.
His chest broke open.
The Sphere of Silence
Saevel stepped beside him, dagger in hand.Torren froze.Rafi dropped to his knees.Lirael's breath stopped entirely.
Aarinen moved toward the pedestal.
Saevel grabbed him again."Wait."
His voice cracked."I see her."
Saevel shook her head."You see something shaped like her."
He swallowed.
"She's inside."
Lirael approached the pedestal slowly.
"This is not a prison," she whispered."It is a stasis vault."
Torren frowned."Meaning?"
"It preserves," she said. "Suspends. Protects."
Rafi shrieked, "Protects?! Who puts a child in a glass prison to protect her?!"
Lirael didn't answer.
Aarinen stepped closer.
Eryna looked exactly as she had in the memory—small, pale-haired, delicate—but older by a year maybe.
Her eyes closed.Her hands curled into fists near her face.
He reached toward the sphere.
The shard burned in his palm.
And a whisper echoed:
"…don't…"
Aarinen froze.
Saevel whispered, "What did she say?"
"…not yet…"
Aarinen stepped back.
Rafi whimpered."Why not yet? Why not ever? Why is everything in this place haunted?!"
Lirael whispered, voice shaking:
"She's aware."
Torren blinked. "Aware inside stasis?"
"That shouldn't be possible," Lirael said.
Aarinen stepped closer.
"Eryna?"
Her eyelids fluttered—not physically,but in the reflection of the sphere,like a shadow shifting inside.
A whisper:
"…Aari… don't… open it…"
Saevel grabbed his arm."Aarinen—listen to her."
He trembled."But she's here."
"No."Her voice was fierce."She's telling you there's danger."
Torren added, "If the Weaver put her in there, there's a reason. A bad one."
Lirael swallowed hard.
"There may be a trigger."
Aarinen frowned. "Trigger?"
Lirael gestured to the sphere.
"Some stasis vaults activate defenses when opened prematurely."
Torren cursed. "Meaning it will blow up."
Lirael shook her head."Not blow up."
Saevel asked, "Then what?"
Lirael whispered:
"Summon what guards it."
A chill swept the chamber.
Aarinen instinctively raised the shard.
Saevel tensed.Torren lifted his blade.Rafi sobbed.Lirael murmured a protective rune.
The chamber vibrated.
A sound—like stone cracking under immense pressure—echoed from the ceiling.
A voice followed.
Deep.Resonant.Cold.
"YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE COME."
Rafi shrieked.Torren swore.Saevel spun toward the sound.
A crack split the ceiling.
Dust fell.
Aarinen stepped away from the pedestal.
The crack widened.
A figure dropped through—a silhouette drowning in shadow,but with eyes that bled pale silver light.
Not a sentinel.Not a shadow.
A man.
A real man.
Tall.Wearing robes of woven dusk.Hair silvered like moonlight.A mask covering his upper face—smooth, expressionless, carved like porcelain.
Lirael's eyes widened.
"No…"
Torren backed up. "Lirael, who the hell is that?!"
Saevel whispered,"Tell us."
Lirael's voice trembled.
"That…is a Warden."
Rafi wailed."What's a Warden?!"
"A voice of the Weaver," Lirael whispered."They carry his authority. His commands. His judgment."
The Warden landed lightly, feet touching stone without sound.
He lifted his masked face toward Aarinen.
"THE THREAD-DEFIER."
Aarinen tightened his grip on the shard.
The Warden stepped forward.
Every movement precise.Measured.As if following a pattern already woven.
"You seek the girl."
Aarinen's jaw tightened."She's my sister."
The Warden did not react.
"You cannot take her."
Saevel stepped between them."You can try to stop us."
The Warden raised a hand.
Saevel was thrown across the chamber—not by a blast,not by force,but as though the air itself rejected her presence.
She hit the wall hard.
Aarinen shouted her name, running toward her—but the Warden spoke again:
"YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HER."
A pressure slammed into Aarinen.He staggered back, breath ripped from his lungs.
The shard in his hand flared violently—reacting not to the Warden,but to Eryna.
Her whisper cut through the chamber:
"…Aari—don't trust him…"
The Warden approached the pedestal.
Lirael hurled runes.They hit a barrier and dissolved.
Torren charged—and was swept aside like a leaf.
Rafi crawled into a corner and prayed loudly.
The Warden placed his hand on the sphere.
Aarinen felt his heart stop.
"What are you doing?!"
The Warden turned slightly.
"THE VAULT HAS SERVED ITS PURPOSE.SHE IS NO LONGER SAFE IN IT."
Aarinen froze.
"Safe? With you?!"
The Warden tilted his masked head.
A gesture almost curious.
"NOT WITH ME.WITH WHAT COMES."
The shard burned.A pulse ran down Aarinen's arm.
A warning.
Eryna whispered,
"…run…"
Saevel groaned from the floor, "Aarinen—listen to her—"
But the Warden's hand pressed deeper into the sphere.
The glass cracked.
The chamber shook.
Aarinen screamed—
"STOP!"
But it was too late.
The sphere shattered.
Light exploded outward.
A scream—not hers—but something older, deeper—ripped through the room.
And the thing inside the light—
opened its eyes.