Aeron's breath came ragged and shallow as the last remnants of the Trial of the Forgotten faded from his senses. The cold, oppressive darkness had surrounded him like a smothering blanket, and though it was no longer physically present, its weight still lingered, pressing down on his chest, wrapping around his thoughts. The air felt wrong—too thin, too sharp—as if something ancient and powerful still watched from the edges of reality, waiting for him to slip.
His muscles ached. His mind still throbbed from the brutal, unforgiving battle with the spirits of the lost rune mages. The echoes of their accusations—"You should not exist"—reverberated in his ears, despite the silence of the ruins around him.
He staggered to his feet, feeling the aftershocks of the trial in his bones, but as he looked up, the familiar sight of Segirus standing a few paces away grounded him. The old rune master was staring out toward the horizon, his posture rigid. His calm demeanor was a stark contrast to the storm brewing within Aeron's mind. Despite his weariness, Aeron was drawn to Segirus. There was an understanding there, a shared history that Aeron didn't fully grasp yet but could feel at the core of his being.
"Segirus," Aeron called, his voice hoarse. "Why did the spirits call me the 'blood of the Betrayers'?"
Segirus turned slowly, his eyes reflecting the fading firelight. There was a momentary flicker of something ancient—something deep and sorrowful—in his gaze. His voice, when it came, was heavy with the weight of unspoken truths.
"They feared you, Aeron," Segirus began. "The gods did not just seek to eliminate the rune mages; they sought to erase everything that stood in opposition to their rule. The rune mages were not simply powerful—they were free. Free to reshape reality, to manipulate the threads of fate, to create wonders and horrors beyond their imagining. And that made them dangerous."
Aeron frowned. "But why? Why us? What did we do to deserve that?"
Segirus' eyes darkened, a distant shadow passing over his face. "We were never meant to serve the gods. The rune mages could stand alone, without divine guidance. We were their equals, perhaps even their superiors. The gods could not abide that. Your bloodline, Aeron, is a legacy of those who resisted. Those who defied their will."
Aeron's chest tightened. He had known the gods were not benevolent beings, but to learn that his own existence was something they had tried to erase—to learn that his very bloodline was the catalyst for such fear—made his stomach churn.
"And the Unseen City," Aeron said slowly, the words forming a question he wasn't entirely sure he understood himself, "it's the last refuge, isn't it? The last place they couldn't touch?"
Segirus nodded gravely. "Yes. But it is not merely a place of refuge. The Unseen City is a bastion of ancient knowledge, where the power of the rune mages is preserved. It is hidden by magics far older than even the gods. The gods could not destroy it, but they tried to forget it. For that knowledge, Aeron, is the key to rewriting the world."
Aeron turned toward the horizon, the weight of those words settling heavily on his shoulders. He had already learned that the world was not as it appeared—that the gods had orchestrated a vast lie. But now, he was being tasked with something far greater than vengeance. He was being asked to reclaim a legacy, to challenge the very forces that had shaped the course of history.
"I'm ready," he said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his heart. "Let's go."
---
The first light of dawn pierced the heavy clouds, casting a pallid glow over the barren landscape. The journey toward the Unseen City had begun in earnest.
The air felt charged with an ancient energy, crackling like static just before a storm. As they traveled, the ground beneath their feet seemed to shift, fissures occasionally opening up, remnants of the wars long past. The earth was scarred, a map of violence and divine retribution.
Aeron felt it again—the sensation of being watched. The feeling had begun in the Trial of the Forgotten and had not left him. Now, it was more pronounced, a constant pressure on the back of his neck, as though unseen eyes followed every step they took.
"Do you feel it?" Aeron asked quietly, his voice barely above a murmur.
Segirus did not immediately respond, but Aeron could sense the old mage's awareness sharpening. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon, but his every movement was calculated, his every breath controlled.
"It is the city," Segirus said after a long pause, his voice low. "The Unseen City knows we are coming."
Aeron's pulse quickened. "What do we do now?"
Segirus gave a rare, solemn smile. "We continue, Aeron. And we pray that the city is as welcoming as it once was."
The landscape seemed to warp around them, as though reality itself was shifting in anticipation of their arrival. The ruins gave way to more jagged, unearthly spires, stretching upward like the claws of some great, slumbering beast. The wind carried whispers, faint and distant, and the deeper they traveled, the more the air felt thick, as though laden with ancient secrets. The Unseen City was not just a place; it was a presence, a being in itself, waiting for them.
Hours passed as they journeyed deeper into the heart of the Dead Lands. The silence between them was profound, though Aeron could not say whether it was his own fear or Segirus' steely resolve that kept their words to a minimum. As the sun began to dip, casting the world into twilight, they arrived at a strange, circular formation of stones, half-buried in the shifting sands.
Segirus stopped, holding up a hand to signal for Aeron to do the same.
"This is it," Segirus said, his voice softer now, reverent. "The threshold."
Aeron blinked, confused. "The threshold of what?"
"Of the Unseen City," Segirus replied. "To enter, you must first prove your worth."
Aeron's stomach tightened. "What does that mean?"
Segirus turned toward him, his face inscrutable. "The city does not reveal itself to just anyone. Not even those with the blood of the rune mages. To gain its favor, you must walk its path. And that path is fraught with trials that test not just your power, but your very soul."
Aeron's pulse quickened, the weight of Segirus' words settling into his chest like a stone. "And if we fail?"
Segirus' eyes were cold as steel, but there was a flicker of something—almost pity—in them. "Then the city will consume you. And you will become a part of its forgotten past."
Aeron felt the intensity of the moment settle around him, the stakes higher than ever before. He had known from the beginning that this journey would not be easy, but standing before the threshold of the Unseen City, he now understood just how much was at stake.
He looked at Segirus, meeting his gaze, and nodded. "I'm ready."
With a single, deliberate motion, Segirus stepped forward, his staff scraping across the stone threshold. The ground rumbled beneath their feet, and Aeron could feel a pulse of energy—ancient and undeniable—echo through the air. The stones seemed to shift, opening a narrow passage that led into the darkness beyond.
"Walk carefully," Segirus warned, stepping into the passage. "And trust in the city's will."
Aeron followed him, his heart pounding in his chest as the world around him seemed to dissolve into shadow. The walls of the passage were smooth, the air cool and thick with the smell of ancient stone and decay. The path twisted and turned, seemingly leading them deeper into the bowels of the earth, though it felt as if they were walking in the very folds of time itself.
Suddenly, the walls parted, and before them stood the Unseen City—a sprawling metropolis of gleaming black stone, tall spires that reached impossibly high into the sky, and streets lined with statues that seemed to stare down at them, eyes unblinking.
The city was alive with a strange hum, a resonance that seemed to vibrate through Aeron's bones. But there was no movement—no people. Just silence, deep and heavy, as if the city itself was waiting.
"Welcome to the Unseen City," Segirus said softly, his voice filled with awe. "You must now prove yourself worthy. And remember, Aeron—what you find here will shape the future of us all."
Aeron stepped forward, feeling the weight of destiny settle upon his shoulders. The gods had feared this place. And now, it was time for him to discover why.