Dawn broke like a wound in the sky—red, raw, and unsettling. The journey to the Forgotten Spire had taken them deep into the Wailing Highlands, where the wind never stopped moaning through the canyons. It wasn't on any map, not even the ancient ones. Lysara said the land itself hid it, bending reality so the unworthy would walk in circles forever.
But Carter… he could feel it calling him. A pull behind his ribs. Like an instinct older than memory.
They crested a ridge, and there it was.
A tower of black stone jutted out from the mountainside like a dagger driven into the world. Vines of silver threaded its surface, glowing faintly in the daylight. The top was broken—shattered long ago—yet energy still pulsed from within it like a living heartbeat.
"That's it," Lysara whispered, her voice reverent. "The last place the world remembered its true name."
Sera stepped forward slowly, awe in her eyes. "It's beautiful… and terrifying."
Ezra squinted at the structure. "Feels like it's watching us."
"It is," Lysara said. "It's alive. And it's testing us."
Carter took a step forward. The moment his boot hit the ground before the spire, the air shifted. It thickened. Hummed.
And then—visions.
He blinked and saw himself in a field of stars, a thousand versions of him screaming in unison. He saw a serpent of endless eyes slithering through time. A burning city. A child with no face. The moment shattered like glass in his head.
He stumbled, catching himself on one knee.
"You saw it, didn't you?" Lysara knelt beside him. "The memory echo. The Spire shows what you fear… what you might become."
Carter nodded slowly. "I saw too much."
"It means you're ready."
Together, they stepped into the tower's mouth. Inside, the darkness wasn't just absence of light—it was presence. Something breathing. Watching. Waiting.
The interior was hollow, spiraling up into endless blackness. Strange glyphs pulsed on the walls—moving like veins. There were no stairs, only a path made of floating stone plates, each one humming with dormant magic.
"This place tests mind and spirit," Lysara warned. "One mistake, one moment of doubt—and the Spire will trap you in yourself."
Carter nodded. "We keep moving."
They leapt from plate to plate, each step revealing more of the tower's secrets. Whispers crawled around them—names long forgotten, battles never recorded, truths rewritten. Carter began to feel heavier. Like time itself pressed on his shoulders.
On the thirtieth platform, it began.
A shimmer formed ahead—then solidified into a familiar shape.
Carter's breath caught. "Mother?"
She stood there, just as he remembered. Smiling. Arms open.
"Come home, Carter," she said. "You've suffered enough. Let go."
His heart screamed. His feet almost moved. But then he saw it—the flicker in her eyes. The Wyrm's signature. Illusion.
He gritted his teeth. "You're not real."
She vanished like smoke.
Next, Ezra's brother appeared before him. Then Sera's younger self, crying in the corner. One by one, illusions tested their resolve.
Each illusion was more cruel than the last.
But they kept moving.
Finally, they reached the summit—a flat platform beneath the shattered ceiling, where sky and stars met. A pedestal stood in the center, holding a single, closed book wrapped in chains of gold.
Lysara bowed her head. "The Codex of True Naming. This book holds the forgotten name of the world. With it… we can remake the seals."
"But the Wyrm will know the moment it's opened," Sera said quietly.
Carter stepped forward. "Then let it know. We're done running."
He reached out, hand trembling slightly, and touched the chains.
They uncoiled like serpents and fell away.
The book pulsed. The sky rumbled.
And the world—paused.