A cold wind swept across the high plateau as the five travelers crested the ridge. Before them lay the ruin of the Citadel of Echoes: half-submerged towers of black granite, shattered windows staring like blind eyes, and winding causeways veiled in drifting mist. Even from a distance, they felt its power—a humming resonance that tugged at their minds.
Riven led the way through an arching gateway carved with concentric circles. "The Citadel tests more than strength," he warned. "Here, your own voices can betray you. Stay united."
Lior touched the hilt at his side, fire flickering at his fingertips. "I felt it from miles away. My flame shard thrums with anticipation."
Sylas shrugged his cloak tight against the chill. "And my feather trembles—like it's warning me."
Corwin pressed the conch to his ear, hearing only his pulse. "The water's song is muddled. It's… restless."
Bram planted his staff into the frozen earth. "The ground rumbles beneath us. Be ready."
Together they stepped into the outer courtyard. The air quivered with sound: every footfall echoed threefold, then faded into a distant susurration. At the courtyard's center stood a circular dais inscribed with the four elemental glyphs. In its midst hovered a shimmering portal of pale light.
Riven unfurled the ancient map. "To claim the Heartstone fragment within, you must walk through in unison, speaking the vow of the Vanguards. But beware—each of you will hear the echo claw at your doubts."
They formed a circle around the dais. Lior exhaled and placed his palm on the Flame glyph. Sylas knelt by the Wind glyph, Corwin by Water, Bram by Earth. Riven raised a hand and called out in a clear voice:
"By flame and wind and tide and stone,
United hearts shall stand as one."
They echoed the vow together, voices melding. The portal's light pulsed, beckoning like a heartbeat.
One by one, they stepped forward—Lior first, feeling warmth flood his senses; Sylas next, his cloak billowing though no wind blew; Corwin then, water droplets forming on his skin; and Bram last, the ground solid beneath his boots. Riven followed, closing the circle inside the portal's glow.
Instantly, the world dissolved into a vast chamber of obsidian walls lined with mirrored panels. Every word they spoke returned distorted, every movement fractured into dozens of ghostly reflections.
Lior's flame flared. "Stay close!" he warned, but his voice ricocheted as a mocking whisper: "Stay… weak…"
Sylas drew back, eyes wide. "Did you hear that?" His own echo whispered back: "You're not worthy."
Corwin clutched the conch, droplets of water swirling around him. An echo hissed: "You drown them all."
Bram's staff quivered. From the reflections he heard: "You'll crack under pressure."
Fear sharpened their senses. But Riven's calm voice cut through the clamor: "Remember, echoes lie. Trust yourselves—and each other."
Lior inhaled deeply. He reached toward Sylas's hand and said, "I trust you, Sylas—your wind brought life to my flame."
At once, Sylas felt his doubt waver. He laid his hand on Lior's shoulder. "And I trust you, Lior—your fire guides my song."
Corwin joined them, placing a hand on Sylas's back. "I trust you both. Your courage steadies my tide."
Bram closed the circle, resting his free hand on Corwin's arm. "And I trust you, Corwin—your waters calm my roots."
Their voices rang out together, clear and unwavering:
"By flame and wind and tide and stone,
United hearts shall stand as one."
The mirrored walls quivered. The echoes stilled. A beam of light shot from the portal above, illuminating a pedestal at the chamber's center. On it rested a translucent crystal heart—one quarter whole, its facets shimmering with all four colors.
Lior stepped forward and gently lifted the fragment. The chamber trembled, then the walls dissolved, revealing a long corridor lined with broken statues of the original Vanguards. Above them, ancient runes glowed and then faded, as if acknowledging the new bearers.
Outside, the portal winked shut. Riven appeared beside them, a proud smile on his lips. "You have passed the first trial," he said. "The echo of your unity has restored one piece of the Heartstone. But time grows short—Malrik's shadow marches ever northward. We must press on to the Frostwind Pass and beyond, to face the trials that await in the Frozen Citadel."
Lior turned to Sylas, Corwin, and Bram. Their faces were alight with triumph—and determination. They fell into step behind Riven, the newly reforged shard warm against Lior's chest.
Behind them, the Citadel's towers stood silent once more. Ahead, the road wound into mist and moonlight. Four guardians and their guide pressed forward, bound by shards, vows, and the promise of a kingdom reborn.