Eryan awoke with a jolt, the air heavy with an unnatural stillness. His head throbbed, and a sharp pain ran down his spine, as though he had been thrown against jagged stones. The last thing he remembered was the chamber collapsing, the shifting ground and Lyra’s outstretched hand. But now, he was somewhere else, somewhere far different.

The sky above was a swirling canvas of deep purples and blues, streaked with lightning that crackled but made no sound. The ground beneath him was covered in a soft, silvery moss that pulsed faintly with the same glow as the runes in the last chamber. Eryan stood slowly, testing his balance, the weight of exhaustion pressing on him like a shroud. The echoes of Lyra’s words reverberated through his mind: “Only in facing your past can you hope to claim your future.”

He looked around, taking in his surroundings. The place was unlike anything he’d seen. Towering pillars of obsidian rose in a jagged formation, each one etched with runes that glowed with an eerie blue light. Between them, a thin, silvery mist swirled, shifting with a life of its own. In the distance, a figure stood at the edge of a lake that shimmered like liquid silver, reflecting the stormy sky above.

Eryan’s eyes narrowed as he approached cautiously, the water rippling with each step he took. The figure by the lake turned to face him, and Eryan felt a jolt of recognition. It was a woman, her hair cascading like woven threads of silver, and her eyes as bright and unyielding as stars. She held a staff carved from dark wood, tipped with a crystal that pulsed like a heartbeat.

“Welcome to the Realm of Echoes, Kael’s heir,” she said, her voice calm and carrying an authority that made Eryan’s pulse quicken. “I am Althea, Guardian of Lost Memories.”

The name echoed in his mind, but he couldn’t place where he’d heard it before. He stepped forward, the silvery moss crunching beneath his boots. “Where am I? Why am I here?”

Althea’s gaze bore into him, as though searching his very soul. “You are in the heart of the tower, beyond the trials that test your strength. Here, in the Realm of Echoes, only those who seek the truth can find it. And you, Eryan, must reclaim your father’s legacy.”

The memory of Lyra’s words surfaced again: “Face your past.” A flicker of doubt crossed his mind. What did it mean to reclaim a legacy? How could he find the truth when the only things he knew were fragments, memories distorted by time and loss?

“The tower speaks to those who listen,” Althea continued, breaking through his thoughts. “And you have already heard its call.”

A sudden sound, sharp and metallic, pierced the air. Eryan spun around just in time to see a dark, hooded figure emerge from the mist, moving with a fluid, predatory grace. This was not an ally—this was an enemy. The figure’s eyes glowed a fierce, unnatural red, and a wicked grin creased its shadowed face.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Kael’s son,” the figure said. The voice was deep and familiar, but distorted with malice. It sent a shiver down Eryan’s spine.

“Who are you?” Eryan demanded, his fists clenching at his sides as the pulse of the Aetherline throbbed through him, ready for battle.

The figure stepped forward, the light revealing more of its form. It was a man, tall and lean, clad in black armour that reflected the obsidian pillars around him. His face, though partially hidden by a dark hood, was unmistakable.

“I am the Echo of Kael’s past,” the figure said. “And I will not let you move forward until you understand what was lost.”

Althea’s staff flared with a brilliant blue light. “Eryan, be wary. The Echo is a manifestation of your father’s greatest trials, and it knows the secrets you seek.”

Eryan’s heart thundered in his chest as he prepared for the fight. The figure advanced, and the air grew colder, the light around them flickering as though the realm itself held its breath. Eryan reached for the Aetherline, letting the surge of power fill him. This was not just a fight for survival—it was a fight for understanding, for reclaiming the parts of himself he had never known.

The Echo lunged, and Eryan met it head-on, a surge of radiant energy bursting from his hands. The chamber lit up, the light clashing with the dark, and for a moment, time itself seemed to stretch, holding them in a fragile balance.