The torchlight barely lit the space around them.
Arthur blinked a few times, trying to adjust his vision to the unknown environment. There were no rough stone walls — the place seemed… shaped. Smooth in some spots, rippling in others, as if it had been constructed and then swallowed by time.
The surfaces had the tone of aged rock, covered by centuries of dust and dirt, but there was something strange… as if beneath that gray layer another color was hiding.
He drew a slow breath. The air was cold, still, ancient.
He turned.
Mia was unconscious a few steps behind, lying among fragments of cracked flooring. Arthur walked over and knelt beside her. He touched her shoulder carefully.
— Mia… hey, Mia…
She let out a low groan, slowly opening her eyes.
— Ugh… Arthur? Where… where are we?
— I don't know — he answered, looking around. — But it doesn't feel like a normal cave.
Mia stood up with some difficulty and, like him, fell silent before the corridor stretching ahead. The walls seemed… slanted. Not natural. As if someone had created that space, but time had worn it down until it looked like stone.
— It looks… built — Mia murmured. — But not by humans.
Arthur nodded, not knowing why, but feeling she was right.
They took their first steps.
The echo was strange — it didn't sound like stone on stone. It was a muffled, hollow sound, as if the floor had once been alive and was now dead.
That was when Arthur stopped in front of something on the wall.
A mural.
Worn down, but unmistakable.
Humanoid figures, strong lines, circular symbols carved around them. And among them, a race he had never seen before: tall beings, four muscular arms, long ears sweeping back, a predatory posture, holding huge spears as if they were light.
Mia swallowed hard.
— But… what species is that?
Arthur ran his fingers over the writing beside the figure — just out of curiosity.
The instant his skin touched the faintly carved symbol…
…something glowed.
A very weak, almost nonexistent blue flickered through the inscription like a dying spark. And a word sliced through Arthur's mind as if whispered inside his head:
— Khaelyr.
He stepped back.
— What…? I… I heard that name.
Mia frowned.
— What do you mean, "heard"?
— I touched here and… it popped into my head. Khaelyr. — He pointed at the drawing. — They were like this.
She moved closer, examining it more carefully.
— Four arms… long ears… they look like warriors.
— And strong — Arthur added, as if he somehow knew.
Without knowing how he knew.
They moved on.
Just ahead, another mural. Thinner figures, elegant, long ears, delicate features and energy flowing from their hands toward plants and crystals.
Arthur touched the writing.
A soft blue lit up beneath his finger.
— Luminel.
The name left his mouth on its own.
— Lumi… what? — Mia asked.
— Luminel — he repeated, feeling the word weigh on him like something ancient. — Mages… of nature. I think that's what they were, they also had long ears… but a bit shorter than the Khaelyr and only two arms.
Each mural was a lost story.
And every time Arthur touched a symbol, the forgotten blue flared for a heartbeat — and a name was reborn in his voice:
— Orcal.
Huge, muscular beings, curved tusks and battle stances.
— Zaraqnil.
Half human, half spider, eight long legs and power in the threads they spun.
— Primordial Spirits.
Humanoid shapes made of water, fire, air and light, as if each element had its own life.
— Humans.
A simple drawing: people with basic weapons and magic, surrounded by symbols of balance.
— Beastkin.
Human bodies, animal traits — tigers, wolves, birds, reptiles — each mural showing a different kind.
Mia was increasingly stunned.
— None of this… makes sense. I don't remember any stories about this at the academy.
Arthur didn't either.
But the déjà-vu tightened around his mind like a silent hand.
They walked farther in, and the murals grew stranger — older, more detailed, more broken.
Then he saw it, touched it and…
— Katlônios?
Gigantic beings, dark skin, absurd musculature, some with scarlet hair. They were enormous, much larger than any Katlônios alive in the present day. They held pillars, moved mountains, spoke with tall, smooth blue figures… figures Mia couldn't identify.
— Katlônios… giants — she murmured, feeling her head throb.
— Arthur… since when do you know this?
— I don't… know — he answered, hesitant, but he didn't stop.
The path went on.
— Dríades.
Female beings made of living wood, hair like leaves, bright green eyes.
— Vampyren.
Pale skin, glowing eyes, long fangs, always painted within the darkness.
— Umrakin.
Creatures of solid magma, gigantic, arms like burning rock.
— Drakonir.
Humanoid beings with draconic features: scales, tails, curved horns.
— Serethir.
Tall, humanoid, white skin with glowing cracks of inner energy, enormous empty eyes, angelic traits mixed with something alien.
Too harmonious. Almost unsettling.
Mia was speechless.
— Arthur… this is impossible. None of these races exist.
— Not anymore — he said, feeling certainty weigh in his chest. — But they existed.
They pressed on.
The corridor began to change.
The floor sank deeper, more carved out, as if it had been dragged from its original place. There was dust, earth… and bones.
First a few.
Then dozens.
And then hundreds.
Skeletons of various races — some huge, others small, others deformed by time. Many were broken, cracked, burned.
Mia lifted a hand to her mouth.
— This was… a battle? A massacre?
Arthur didn't answer.
Something in the air was too heavy.
They moved in silence, guided by instinct. The corridor widened and, at the end, a large opening appeared. A vast, circular hall.
And at its center, a throne.
Covered in dust.
Cracked.
And upon it…
…an enormous skeleton, hair fossilized into rigid strands… and ancient garments, worn but still recognizable.
Arthur felt his heart freeze.
— M… Mia… that's…
She swallowed.
— The king of Ákatlon — said Arthur, feeling a massive pain spike through his head.
After that, the silence filling the hall was so deep it felt alive.
Arthur took a step.
The air shifted.
A chill ran down his spine — coming not from the room, but from the throne.
From the bones.
Something dark… almost invisible… seemed coiled there.
A remnant of his death.
Of the same energy that once crushed a king.
Arthur felt his forehead throb.
Again.
As if an old scar were screaming.
— Arthur… — Mia whispered. — What… happened here?
But no answer came.
Only the echo of a hall that had guarded secrets for centuries…
…and was now opening its eyes again.