The temple doors groaned open, a deep, resonant sound that sent shivers down Kaelen's spine. A thick mist unfurled from within, carrying the scent of aged parchment and something older, something that smelled like the very essence of time itself.
Kaelen hesitated, his fingers twitching at his sides. Every instinct he had honed in the slums screamed at him to turn back, to leave whatever lay beyond those doors untouched. And yet, something deep inside him, something ancient urged him forward.
Rina exhaled beside him, her hand hovering over the hilt of her blade. "This is a bad idea."
Kaelen smirked, though there was no humour in it. "Since when do we have good ones?"
He stepped across the threshold. The world shifted. The air turned thick, pressing against his skin like invisible hands. The torches lining the chamber walls flickered, their flames casting elongated, twisting shadows that moved unnaturally. The chamber stretched endlessly before him, walls lined with towering bookshelves filled with tomes that pulsed with ethereal energy. At the centre of the vast hall stood a pedestal, and upon it, a single book lay open. Its pages were turning on their own, flipping as though searching for something. Kaelen felt his pulse quicken.
The woman who had greeted them outside stepped forward, her luminous eyes fixed on him. "The knowledge within these walls is not for the faint of heart," she murmured. "To read from the Codex of Echoes is to bear witness to the truth of the past… and the cost of the future."
Kaelen swallowed hard, his throat dry. He had spent years searching for answers, yet now, faced with them, he found himself hesitating. "What if I'm not ready?"
The woman's expression softened. "No one ever is."
Rina, ever the sceptic, crossed her arms. "And what happens if he reads it?"
The woman turned her gaze to the book, the flickering candlelight reflecting in her silver irises. "Then he will know what has been hidden. And knowledge, once gained, cannot be undone."
Kaelen took a slow step forward, drawn to the Codex like a moth to flame. His fingers hovered over the aged parchment, the air crackling with unseen energy. And then, he turned the page.