The canyon swallowed Liora whole.
The light from the burning garden faded behind her, leaving only the dim pulse of the shard in her hand to guide her steps.Every breath she took echoed off the stone walls, shallow and ragged.
She leaned heavily against the jagged rocks, blood dripping from her fingertips.
The deeper she went, the colder it became — not the chill of winter, but the sharp, bone-deep cold of forgotten magic.
And then, without warning, she stepped into open space.
A cavern.
No — a sanctuary.
The walls stretched impossibly high, carved with spirals of glyphs she didn't recognize. Stalagmites rose like the spines of some ancient beast, and at the center of it all, half-buried in the stone, stood a massive black monolith.
It thrummed.
A deep, mournful sound, vibrating in her chest.
Liora stumbled closer.
The monolith was covered in runes — some flickering faintly, others dead.Around its base, dozens of stone pedestals held relics: broken swords, bloodstained banners, even cracked bones.
All offerings.
All remnants of a forgotten war.
Alric's war.
Her ancestor's.
Her blood's.
It wasn't just a sanctuary.
It was a tomb.
The shard in her hand pulsed stronger now, resonating with the monolith.
Compelled, Liora pressed it against the stone.
The runes flared to life, bathing the cavern in sickly blue light.A deep groan shook the air as the monolith split down the center, revealing a hollow core — and inside, floating weightless, was a tome.
Ancient.Bound in something that might have once been flesh.
Her heart raced.
This wasn't just any grimoire.
This was The Codex of Shattered Souls.
The real one.
Not the diluted fragments the Circle doled out to its chosen.
Liora reached for it, and the moment her fingers brushed the cover, her mind was ripped from her body.
She stood on a battlefield of ash and bone.
A younger Alric faced a monstrous army, his armor dented and bloody, his sword a wraith-blade wreathed in black flame.Beside him stood figures Liora barely recognized — ancestors twisted by magic, friends and enemies both.
The enemy?Not the White Circle.Not yet.
The true enemy was the Echo — a force that devoured worlds, memories, even time itself.
Alric fought not for power.
He fought because he had no choice.
The Echo fed on souls.
And in its hunger, it had birthed monsters — things with human faces but hollow hearts.
Necromancy was never meant to defy death.
It was meant to preserve the last light of memory before the Echo consumed it.
It was an act of desperation.
A rebellion against oblivion.
"Our blood is a covenant," Alric's voice whispered in her mind. "Not of conquest. Of remembrance."
The vision shattered.
Liora gasped, collapsing to her knees once again — though this time it was not weakness, but overwhelming knowledge that brought her down.
Everything she had believed was a lie.
The Circle had twisted necromancy into a weapon, a tool of control.The real magic was meant to protect, to save what was being devoured by a force far older and crueler than any mortal empire.
And now, the Echo was stirring again.
She could feel it.
In the thinness of the Veil.
In the way souls screamed when they died.
In the trembling of her own fractured spirit.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" came a voice from the darkness.
Liora froze.
A figure stepped into the dim light — tall, robed in layers of gray and crimson, a golden mask covering his face.
Mavrek.
But not the half-seen shadow who haunted her nightmares.
This was Mavrek unveiled, in all his terrible majesty.
"You've seen the truth now," he said softly. "You understand."
Liora struggled to stand, gritting her teeth.
"I understand you're a parasite," she spat.
Mavrek chuckled — not mocking, almost...sad.
"No, child. I am a cure. The Circle chains the dead. I would set them free."
He gestured to the Codex, now hovering obediently at Liora's side.
"You think you can fight the Echo alone? You think the Circle will save you?"
He stepped closer, voice low and hypnotic.
"You need me, Liora. You need what I offer."
She shook her head.
The choice was obvious.
Wasn't it?
But somewhere deep inside, doubt gnawed at her.
Because if the Echo was truly rising again...If the world itself was at stake...
Could she afford to fight alone?
"I don't need anyone," she said, voice shaking.
"Liar," Mavrek murmured. "You always have. You always will."
He lifted a hand — not in threat, but in invitation.
"Join me. Reforge the blood-pact. Together, we can end the Circle and stop the Echo."
The monolith behind him hummed, the light flaring brighter.
Liora hesitated.
In her mind, memories of Daren's battered face, of Riven's laughter, of Nyssa's stubborn loyalty — all flashed by like dying stars.
She tightened her fists.
Her path was her own.
Not Alric's.Not Mavrek's.
Hers.
She turned and fled into the shadows before she could change her mind.
Mavrek watched her go, unbothered.
"Run, little light," he murmured. "The darkness is patient."
And everywhere, unnoticed, the Echo fed.