The golden light of the temple flickered against the towering stone pillars, their surfaces etched with symbols long forgotten by time. Raine pushed himself to his feet, his head still spinning from the sudden teleportation. Beside him, Sylara groaned, pressing a hand to her temple as she steadied herself.
Seraphis stood a few feet ahead, her silver eyes scanning the ancient chamber with quiet reverence. "This place... It has been untouched for centuries."
Raine exhaled, still trying to process what had just happened. "Okay, can someone explain why that guy Varian was strong enough to tear through us like we were nothing?"
Seraphis turned to face them, her expression grim. "Varian is not an ordinary warrior. He is the Warden of the Rift—charged with ensuring the realms remain separate. He serves those who wish to keep the balance as it is, even if it means allowing both worlds to crumble in their isolation."
Sylara scoffed, pacing away. "So, what? He's some kind of enforcer for the gods?"
"In a way," Seraphis admitted. "But more than that, he is a man who believes in his duty above all else. If he stands in your way, it is because he sees you as a threat to the stability he has sworn to protect."
Raine crossed his arms. "And you expect us to just... beat him?"
"No," Seraphis said. "Not as you are now."
Sylara narrowed her eyes. "Then why bring us here?"
Seraphis turned toward a massive set of doors at the far end of the temple, their surface shimmering faintly with magic. "Because this place holds the last remnants of the knowledge you need to stand a chance against him."
A Forgotten Legacy
As they stepped deeper into the temple, the air grew thick with magic. The walls whispered with voices of the past, ghostly echoes of a time when the connection between worlds was still intact.
Sylara ran a hand over the engravings along the wall, her expression unreadable. "This writing… It's Elyndrian."
Seraphis nodded. "Your ancestors built this temple as a sanctuary—a place of guidance for those who would one day seek to restore the bond between realms."
Raine looked at her. "And that's supposed to be us?"
"It must be," Seraphis replied. "If the prophecy is true, then this temple was waiting for you to arrive."
Sylara clenched her fists. "I told you, I don't care about the prophecy."
Seraphis sighed. "Then forget the prophecy. Look around you. This place is proof that your bloodline was meant for more than running from the past. You can choose to embrace that… or you can walk away and leave everything to crumble."
Sylara's jaw tightened, but she said nothing.
Raine stepped toward the large doors at the center of the temple. "So, what's behind this?"
Seraphis placed a hand against the doors. They pulsed with energy, shifting and unlocking at her touch. "Answers."
As the doors groaned open, a massive chamber was revealed—at its center, an ancient mirror floated above a circular platform, its surface swirling with silver mist.
Raine felt an unexplainable pull toward it. "What is that?"
Seraphis's voice was solemn. "The Echo Mirror. It allows one to witness the past—not just memories, but the truth that has been hidden by time."
Sylara took a cautious step forward. "So… it can show us what really happened between the realms?"
Seraphis nodded. "If you wish to understand your place in all of this, then you must face what came before."
Raine hesitated. Something about this felt... personal. As if the mirror had been waiting for him.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped onto the platform. The mist within the mirror began to swirl violently, and before he could react, the world around him shifted—pulling him into the past.
Visions of Another Time
Raine found himself standing in a grand city, its towers gleaming under twin suns. Elves and humans walked side by side, their lives intertwined as if there had never been a divide between their worlds.
He turned, heart pounding as he recognized Sylara—or rather, someone who looked exactly like her, dressed in regal armor, standing at the head of an army.
A man stood beside her, his presence commanding. He bore the same crimson cloak and crest as Varian.
Raine's breath caught. Varian… but younger.
The vision unfolded around him. The two figures—Sylara's ancestor and Varian—stood as allies, preparing for battle.
"They fought together?" Raine murmured.
The scene shifted—war erupted, shadows swallowing the land. A rift split the sky, tearing the world apart. Varian and Sylara's ancestor turned against each other, their blades clashing, their friendship shattered.
A final moment played before him: Sylara's ancestor standing before the Rift, using the last of her power to sever the connection between worlds.
Raine's heart pounded. She didn't do it out of hatred. She did it to save both sides.
And Varian… he wasn't just a Warden. He was trying to stop her.
The vision faded. Raine gasped as he was pulled back to the temple, Sylara and Seraphis watching him with concern.
"What did you see?" Sylara asked.
Raine met her gaze. "The truth. Your ancestor broke the bond between realms… to protect both sides. And Varian—he's not just our enemy. He's someone who lost everything because of that choice."
Seraphis exhaled. "Then you understand. This is not just about restoring the bond. It's about setting right what was broken."
Sylara's expression was unreadable, but Raine could see the conflict in her eyes.
For the first time, she wasn't just running from the prophecy.
She was questioning whether she had the power to change it.