The Threshold of Ruin
The temple loomed ahead, a fractured relic of a world long lost. Massive stone pillars, worn by time and war, jutted toward the sky, their carvings barely visible beneath creeping vines. The air inside thrummed with something old—powerful but fragile, as if on the verge of vanishing.
Zyra hesitated at the entrance, her fingers brushing the hilt of her dagger. A warning pulsed through her veins, instinct screaming at her that this was not a place for the living.
Kieran stepped past her.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the air shifted.
A gust of wind, unnatural and cold, spiraled through the ruins, sending dust scattering. Riven cursed, drawing his sword, while Marek took an uneasy step back.
Then—the temple reacted.
Carvings along the walls glowed, ancient runes igniting in pale blue light.
A low hum filled the air.
Zyra's breath hitched. "What is this?"
Marek's expression darkened. "A test."
---
The First Seal
The chamber beyond the entrance stretched into darkness.
Faint blue light pulsed along the walls, revealing a massive stone door at the far end, inscribed with runes that twisted unnaturally when Zyra tried to focus on them.
Kieran stepped closer.
The moment his fingers brushed the surface—the runes flared.
A voice, deep and resonant, filled the chamber.
"You who walk the path of the Rift… prove your will."
Zyra shivered. The words weren't spoken in any human tongue—yet she understood them clearly.
Then—the floor trembled.
From the darkness, shadows unfurled.
Not wraiths.
Memories.
Or rather—reflections of them.
Zyra froze as figures took shape.
A battlefield. Blood-soaked earth. The scent of iron thick in the air.
And standing among the carnage—her father.
Alive. Whole.
She staggered back, chest tightening. "No…"
Kieran stiffened beside her. "This isn't real."
But when she blinked, the scene didn't fade. Her father turned.
And looked straight at her.
"Zyra."
---
A Trial of the Past
Zyra couldn't move.
The temple had taken the one thing that could break her.
She barely noticed Riven and Marek, who had gone still, their own trials playing out before them. The temple was forcing them to face their ghosts.
Her father stepped closer, his armor gleaming, his face exactly as she remembered. Not the bloodied corpse she had seen last. Not the lifeless body that had been buried.
His voice was steady. Too steady. "You left us."
Zyra flinched.
"I—" Her throat closed.
"You abandoned your people." His gaze pierced her. "Did you ever plan to return?"
Her fingers curled into fists.
Kieran's voice cut through the haze. "Zyra. Don't listen."
She turned toward him—and her breath caught.
Because Kieran wasn't standing there anymore.
---
The Rift's Influence
Zyra's stomach twisted.
Kieran was in the vision.
Not as himself.
But as one of them.
His form flickered—half Kieran, half something else. A being of shadows, his silver eyes burning too brightly.
Her father's gaze flicked toward him, and a look of recognition crossed his face. "You were always meant for this."
Kieran's jaw clenched. "No."
The shadow inside him rippled.
"You cannot run from fate." Her father's voice softened. "You belong to the Rift."
Kieran's breath hitched.
The vision wasn't just for her.
The temple was testing him, too.
And he was losing.
---
The Breaking Point
Zyra lunged forward. "Kieran, fight it!"
His eyes snapped to hers. Silver. Wild. Fractured.
For a split second, something shifted.
A pulse of Rift magic crackled through the air—raw, unstable, drawn from him.
Zyra barely had time to react before—
The vision shattered.
The battlefield was gone.
Her father was gone.
But Kieran—
Kieran was still standing in the aftermath of it.
His hands trembled, fingers curling like he was trying to hold onto something slipping away. His chest rose and fell too fast, like he had just survived something no one else could see.
Zyra reached for him, heart hammering. "Kieran?"
His breath shuddered. "I almost—"
She didn't let him finish. She grabbed his wrist, grounding him. "You're still here."
His silver eyes flickered. The glow dimmed. The shadows receded.
And for now—he was Kieran again.
---
The Second Seal Breaks
The stone door rumbled.
The runes, once alight with power, dimmed.
Zyra exhaled sharply. "We passed the test."
Marek let out a shaky breath. "Barely."
The door cracked open.
Beyond it—darkness.
But Zyra no longer hesitated.
Because if this temple held the answers they needed to save Kieran, she would walk straight into whatever waited on the other side.
Even if it meant facing the Rift itself.
---