The Sleeper's roar shattered the very air around Eliar, its massive form hurtling through the mist, each step shaking the crumbling ground. Vael'thar's wings flapped furiously, a protective barrier of ancient magic shielding Eliar from the brunt of the force. But even the dragon's protection wouldn't last long. The Sleeper was relentless — a force of pure chaos.
Eliar gritted his teeth, feeling the weight of desperation coil tighter around his chest. Every instinct screamed at him to run, but there was nowhere to run — except forward. Forward, into the swirling portal that pulsed just beyond the collapsing ruins.
"NOW!" Vael'thar's voice thundered in his mind.
Without a second thought, Eliar sprinted.
Behind him, the Sleeper unleashed a deafening screech, a clawed hand swiping toward him with enough force to tear through steel. The attack narrowly missed, raking through the stone floor instead, sending shards flying.
Eliar pushed harder, heart hammering against his ribs, lungs burning. He could feel the Sleeper gaining — closer, closer—
And then...
That voice again.
"Eliar... Jump!"
A voice filled with warmth, command, and something he couldn't explain — a familiarity that twisted painfully in his gut.
It gave him a surge of strength. Without questioning it, Eliar leaped with all his might into the portal.
The world bent and twisted. Colors bled together. He felt like he was being torn apart and remade all at once. For a moment, there was only darkness, stretching on forever.
He landed hard, gasping.
Stone. Cold. Quiet.
The portal behind him sealed shut with a final flash, cutting off the Sleeper's roar. Eliar lay there for a long moment, feeling the echoes of battle still ringing through his body.
Vael'thar appeared beside him, more a shimmering spirit now than a physical form, the dragon's eyes dim with exhaustion.
"You did well, young master," Vael'thar murmured, lowering his massive head.
Eliar forced himself upright, wincing at the sharp pain in his side. His mind, however, wasn't on his injuries. It was back there — at the portal.
That voice.
He couldn't stop thinking about it.
"Why... did it sound so familiar?" Eliar whispered to himself.
He shook his head. It didn't make sense. He had never heard it before — at least, he shouldn't have.
Yet in that moment, it had felt like someone he once knew. Like someone he had lost. Like a missing piece he didn't even realize he was searching for.
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
Was it a memory he had forgotten? A manipulation? Or... something deeper?
He got up, brushing dust from his clothes, trying to steady his breathing.
Vael'thar, sensing his master's turmoil, spoke again:
"You felt it too, didn't you?" the dragon rumbled. "The call... it was not ordinary."
Eliar nodded grimly. "It was like... like it reached into my very soul."
The cavern he now stood in was alien. Strange stone pillars stretched toward a ceiling that swirled with faint starlight, casting the entire place in a mystical glow. Old relics lined the walls — weapons, artifacts, and scrolls — untouched by time.
"Where... am I?" Eliar thought.
He took a cautious step forward when suddenly — the ground beneath his feet shifted.
Symbols carved into the stone flared to life, bathing the entire room in radiant blue light.
A deep, ancient hum filled the air.
Eliar's heart raced. Something was awakening.
Vael'thar bared his teeth. "We are not alone."
From the shadows, a figure began to materialize. Clad in robes darker than night, their face hidden behind an intricate silver mask. They radiated a terrifying presence — not hostile, but... watchful.
The figure raised a hand.
"Eliar Thorne," they intoned, voice neither male nor female, but something that resonated deep within the bones.
"You have stepped into the Wellspring of Origins... and your destiny has just begun."
[End of Chapter 16]