Chapter 66: Through the Cavern of Echoes
The Cavern of Echoes was not a place of silence. It was alive with sound, but not the kind anyone expected. Every footstep, every breath, every heartbeat was repeated—not once, but in waves, bouncing off unseen crystal walls and ancient bones hidden within the stone. The echoes weren't just sound. They were memories. The cave sang with the voices of those who had come before, and those who had never left.
Riku's boots touched the stone floor first. The moment he entered, the air thickened like wet silk, brushing against his skin. A shimmer ran down his spine. Airi followed, silent and steady, her expression carved with determination, though her eyes flickered with unease. Haru came last, his usual confident aura dulled by the humming dread that filled the chamber.
They had barely spoken since the encounter with the Broken Bloom. It had left something behind—not just the scar along Riku's arm, but something quieter, crawling behind their thoughts.
"Don't talk unless you have to," Veyla had warned. "The cave listens. It remembers."
And now, it whispered.
Riku...
He spun around. Haru and Airi halted, alert.
"Did you—?"
They both shook their heads. But he heard it. His name. Not shouted. Not spoken. Breathed.
The walls shifted with color—mossy green and cold silver. Lines of forgotten runes glowed faintly between rocks like veins. Every ten steps, a new hum joined the last, creating a layered chorus of memories.
Airi placed a hand on Riku's arm.
"Stay close. Don't let it pull you away."
He nodded. But it was already pulling.
---
Perspective: Airi
She had always prided herself on being grounded. Even when the Bloom first awakened in her veins, when reality cracked and power surged like a tide, she held onto logic, reason, and truth. But here, logic was dust.
In the glow of the cavern, she saw herself as a child, not more than ten, standing by her mother's side as the woman buried something beneath a tree. Her mother had sworn her to silence. "They'll come for it one day," she had said, eyes shadowed with fear.
Now, in the walls of this place, that moment played on repeat. A forgotten truth.
"Airi..."
This voice was not from the present. It was her mother's.
She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.
Not real. Not now.
But the cave didn't care.
---
Perspective: Haru
Haru was the first to break. He didn't cry. He didn't stumble. But he paused. That was all it took.
His reflection—his father—stepped from a nearby wall. The man was younger than Haru remembered, proud, clean-shaven, a military man who had once believed in order and discipline.
"You could've saved her."
That voice. That accusation. It wasn't imagined.
Haru closed his eyes, clenched his fists.
"You're not him."
"But you believe me, don't you?" The echo smiled.
Airi grabbed Haru by the sleeve and pulled.
"Not here. Not like this."
---
Back to Riku
He walked into a wider chamber, its ceiling so high it vanished into fog. Stalactites of crystal hung like fangs, reflecting not light, but memories. Each one played something different.
In one: Riku as a boy, crying at his brother's disappearance. In another: Riku standing over someone, sword drawn, grief in his eyes. In another: A girl with white hair, reaching toward him—Himari.
"Why didn't you wait for me?" she asked.
"You're not real."
"But your guilt is."
He turned away.
A low sound echoed next—a heartbeat. But it wasn't his. It was coming from the center.
There, atop a dais of crumbling roots, was the next Seed. It hovered in the air, spinning slowly. This one wasn't gold or silver or violet—it was black. But not dead. Pulsing. Breathing.
The Seed of Shadow.
Riku approached, but something blocked him—a figure with no face, cloaked in darkness. Its voice came from everywhere at once.
"To hold the Bloom is to carry pain. Do you truly want this power?"
Riku didn't answer with words. He stepped forward.
The shadow struck.
---
Battle
The air cracked. The echo of the strike reverberated through the chamber like thunder in a bottle.
Riku countered, blade drawn, eyes blazing. Haru and Airi flanked him. Spells bloomed from Airi's fingers—flowers of ice and light. Haru moved like wind incarnate, blurring with speed.
The shadow split into three. It mirrored them. Riku fought himself. Airi fought a twin who cried her tears. Haru fought a version of himself that didn't hold back.
Every blow they struck was met with memories.
"You failed her." "You let me die." "You'll never be enough."
Still they fought.
Riku screamed. Not in pain—in defiance.
The pendant at his neck glowed.
Himari's voice echoed: "Don't be afraid of the past. Let it fuel you."
Riku struck forward, not at the shadow, but at the memory behind it. The image of his guilt shattered.
Airi did the same. Haru followed.
The echoes silenced.
The Seed dropped into Riku's hand.
---
Aftermath
They stood there, panting. The chamber was quiet now. No voices. No ghosts. Only them.
The Seed of Shadow rested in Riku's palm. Cold. Heavy.
He turned to his friends. "We move forward."
Haru managed a grin. "Still with you."
Airi nodded. "Always."
Above them, for just a second, the ceiling cleared—and they saw the stars.
But somewhere behind them, the cave whispered again. This time not a voice, but a warning:
One Seed remains.