Chapter 6 - A Journey to Remember
In the middle of the palace courtyard stood a tall, silent ice coffin. Inside it, Lans Silverkin was trapped, his face frozen in a brave expression. Aria knelt before the icy coffin, touching the cold surface with her hands, her eyes swollen from endless crying.
Heavy footsteps echoed across the dusty ground. Aven appeared from behind the ruins, his wooden staff trembling slightly with every step. His clothes were torn, his face scratched and bruised, but his eyes stayed sharp.
The people of Delmar stepped aside with hope. They knew if anyone could understand the magic that trapped Lans, it was Aven.
Aven knelt before the ice. He placed his palm on the frozen surface. Instantly, a silvery blue light flowed from his skin, tracing the natural patterns on the ice.
He closed his eyes.
Visions struck his mind like lightning:
A Timekeeper, wearing a cloak that shimmered like ice, standing in the middle of a storm. He raised his hand to the sky, sacrificing himself to save humanity from destruction. An ancient ritual transformed his soul into a pure blue crystal — the Heart of Frost.
A wise human king had once taken the Heart of Frost, not to use it, but to protect it with honor. From generation to generation, it became a symbol of sacrifice and hope.
But from the shadows of another world, something terrible lurked:
Frostbourne. A demon who had recently slipped into the human world. He spotted a tiny crack and broke through. He wanted the Heart of Frost not to protect — but to control, to freeze the world, and enslave time itself.
Aven opened his eyes slowly, his body shaking, his breath heavy.
Aria, standing nearby, looked at him with questioning eyes.
"What did you see?" she whispered.
Aven rose to his feet, never taking his gaze off the ice coffin.
"I saw the truth behind this ice," he said heavily.
He walked toward Aria, his eyes intense.
"The Heart of Frost," he said, "is not just a crystal. It's the soul of a Timekeeper who gave up everything to protect this world."
Aria held her breath, listening closely.
"But now, that power has been misused. Frostbourne, the demon, tried to steal the Heart of Frost to strengthen his darkness. He almost succeeded..." Aven sighed deeply. "And now, that power is trapped inside Lans."
"How do we free him?" Aria asked, her voice trembling between hope and fear.
Aven stared at her for a long time before answering.
"The Heart of Frost can't be destroyed with ordinary force. To break the spell, we need its opposite: the Heart of Fire."
Aria frowned. "The Heart of Fire?"
"Yes," Aven said. "The only force strong enough to counter and release this magic. But the Heart of Fire isn't something we can just find easily."
He paused, making sure Aria was ready for what he would say next.
"The Heart of Fire is a Timekeeper, hidden deep in the Veyrath Mountains. It's not a being you can see with normal eyes. It's an ancient spirit, the last guardian of fire."
Aria clenched her fists. "What must I do?"
Aven looked at her, his gaze piercing.
"You must go there. But remember, Aria: the Heart of Fire cannot be taken by force. It must be given willingly. The guardian will test you. You must prove your heart is worthy to receive the fire."
Aven stepped closer, his voice now softer, almost like a father giving advice to his child.
"Listen carefully, Aria," he said. "On this journey, it's not your strength that matters — it's your heart. There are many strong people in this world, but only a few pure enough to carry the burden you must bear. You will be tested by your own fear, by your own anger. Don't let them guide you."
Aria looked deeply into Aven's eyes, taking in every word.
She bowed her head, took a deep breath, then raised her face, her eyes burning with determination.
"I will go," she said firmly.
A heavy silence fell between them, as if even the world paused to honor her decision.
Aven nodded slowly. "Prepare yourself, Aria. This journey will test not just your steps... but your soul."
At dawn, Aria left Delmar, carrying only a small backpack with basic supplies, her main weapon — a bow and arrows — and a small dagger as backup. The dusty road stretched ahead, leading toward the Veyrath Mountains, whose peaks glowed red in the distance.
The first day passed without much trouble. She crossed dry forests, open fields, and abandoned villages, the signs of life fading behind her.
On the second day, when the sun was high, Aria found a clear stream flowing between the rocks. She decided to rest and clean herself.
Carefully, she set her bow and knife by the riverbank, then washed her face and body. The cold water brought some relief from the long journey.
But as she enjoyed the calm, a heavy rustling came from the bushes.
Aria spun around, her eyes wide.
A Varghul — a creature covered in gray fur, with glowing red eyes, bigger than any wolf — lunged from the trees, aiming straight at the unarmed Aria.
Moving fast, Aria leaped to the side and grabbed her bow. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and aimed, her breath still shaky.
The Varghul jumped again, its claws slicing the air.
Aria fired.
The arrow struck the beast's shoulder, making it roar in pain.
But it didn't stop. Enraged, it charged again.
Aria rolled on the ground, grabbed her knife, and waited for the right moment.
As the Varghul lunged, Aria twisted around and stabbed her knife into its side.
The creature howled in pain and staggered back.
Quickly, Aria pulled another arrow, this time aiming for its eye.
With a steady breath, she released.
The arrow hit straight into its left eye. The Varghul let out a heartbreaking shriek before collapsing, dead.
Aria stood trembling, staring at the beast's still body. Her breathing was heavy, her body covered in mud and scratches — but her spirit stayed strong.
She knew this was only the beginning. The Veyrath Mountains were still waiting — and they would not welcome her easily.
From a distance, a figure watched her.The same bird that had once watched Lans when he gained his power.The same bird that watched Lans defeat Frostbourne.Now, its eyes were on Aria.
The next day, Aria pushed forward with heavier steps. The air grew hotter and thinner, the rocky path steeper.
The Veyrath Mountains stood proud before her, their golden-red peaks glowing under the sunlight. She climbed, her sweat dripping, her hands and feet bruised from sharp stones.
After hours of climbing, Aria finally reached a narrow plateau near the summit. There, hidden among giant rocks, stood an ancient temple.
The temple was carved straight into the mountainside. Its pillars were tall, decorated with winged suns and ancient runes that glowed with a faint golden light. The entrance was a giant arch, and from inside, a warm, living heat flowed out.
Aria approached carefully. Every step felt heavier, not just from exhaustion, but from the holy aura surrounding the place.
As she entered the temple, the air changed. It vibrated around her, and the warmth grew stronger — not a burning heat, but a comforting, living flame.
Suddenly, in the center of the stone hall, light began to gather. A small flame danced in the air, growing and spinning, shaping into the figure of a human.
The figure became clearer.Its body was made of pure fire, its eyes like deep, burning embers, full of calm and power.It did not stand on the ground — it floated gently, surrounded by waves of heat.
Aria held her breath.
Solare Ignis.The ancient spirit — the Guardian of the Heart of Fire — had appeared.
In the sacred silence, a deep, echoing voice spoke, not just into the air, but straight into Aria's heart:
"Why have you come, human child, to a place where only souls of fire are worthy to tread?"