Altheron felt the ground vanish beneath him.
A flash of blinding light swallowed his vision, and then—silence.
He staggered as his boots scraped against smooth stone, the air here colder, heavier. The stink of blood and moss from the dungeon floor was gone, replaced by the faint, metallic tang of something older… something untouched for centuries.
The chamber around him was unlike anything he had seen before. The jagged rock walls of the dungeon had given way to towering slabs of obsidian, etched with symbols that pulsed faintly as though alive. A low hum filled the silence, vibrating in his bones.
"Father?" His voice cracked as it echoed into the emptiness. No answer came.
The pendant at his chest glowed brighter than ever, spilling a soft silver light across the floor. It pulled his gaze forward—toward the heart of the chamber.
There, upon a pedestal of black stone, rested a blade.
Its surface was dull, wrapped in rust and shadow, yet it radiated a weight that made Altheron's knees weaken. At its base lay carvings of beasts—wolves, dragons, creatures he could not name—all bowing toward the sword as if it were their master.
Then, the voice returned. Deeper now. Clearer.
"The time draws near… The Forgotten One stirs."
Altheron's chest tightened. He spun toward the voice, but no figure stood there. The words came from the very walls, from the air itself.
The pendant burned hot against his skin.
Drawn by something deeper than curiosity, Altheron took a hesitant step forward.
The closer he came, the heavier the air grew—like the very chamber was pressing against his chest, testing his resolve.
The blade lay upon its pedestal, untouched by dust, as though time itself had chosen to bow before it. Its edge was veiled in rust, its hilt cracked with age, yet despite its ruin, Altheron could feel it—sharpness, hunger, and a strange, quiet dignity. It was not a sword meant to slay alone. It was a sword meant to endure.
His hand trembled as he reached out. His fingers brushed against the cold metal of the hilt.
The moment he touched it, the chamber stirred.
A pulse of energy rippled outward, making the symbols on the walls flare to life. The hum grew into a low, thunderous chorus.
And then—
A voice.
Unlike before, this one was clear, commanding, as though echoing from the roots of the world itself:
"The hero of forgotten time… The hour has come once more. Draw the blade, and let fate awaken."
Altheron's eyes widened. "M-me? Hero…?"
His arms shook as he wrapped both hands around the hilt. He pulled.
The sword groaned against the stone, a sound like grinding thunder. It shifted—a breath, a whisper of movement—but would not come free.
He gritted his teeth, veins straining on his small arms. "Move… please…!"
The blade rose an inch, light spilling from beneath it, before his strength failed him.
He stumbled back, gasping, sweat dripping down his brow. His palms ached as though the sword itself had burned him.
The voice returned, softer this time. Almost patient.
"Still weak… but the flame is there. You are chosen. When the time comes, the blade will answer."
Altheron stared at it, chest heaving. His heart pounded with confusion and awe. The pendant at his neck flickered in rhythm with the sword's faint glow, as though the two were bound by threads unseen.
Altheron's knuckles whitened as he refused to let go. His arms screamed, his breath came ragged, but he pressed forward. Inch by inch, the blade rose.
A shiver of light bled from the cracks as the sword parted from the stone, like dawn breaking through the horizon. The hum of the chamber deepened, shaking the very floor beneath his feet.
"Almost…!" he gasped, dragging it higher.
And then—
Burst!
A blinding flash erupted from the pedestal, swallowing the chamber whole. The walls ignited with runes, ancient patterns blazing like fire across their surfaces. The air quaked with power so immense it rattled his bones.
Altheron shielded his eyes, the pendant at his chest flaring in perfect harmony with the sword's awakening.
The voice thundered once more, carrying weight beyond mortal tongues:
"The hero of forgotten time… the seal begins to break. Light returns where shadow lingers."
The entire room glowed as though he stood beneath a newborn sun, the sword now lifted halfway free from its eternal prison.
The chamber pulsed with light, brighter and brighter, until Altheron shielded his eyes. When the glow dimmed, a figure stood before him—neither man nor woman, but robed in flowing silver, their presence vast yet sorrowful. Their face shimmered, never quite settling, as though time itself refused to hold their image still.
The voice that followed was deep, echoing through the boy's very bones.
"Child of the fading sigil… thou hast touched the blade that remembereth ages long past. I… am the Keeper of Forgotten Time."
Altheron staggered back, his hand tightening around the sword's hilt. "Who… what are you?"
The Keeper's gaze seemed to pierce through him.
"Thou art yet weak, yet chosen. The seal upon the Forgotten One doth wane… but still a handful of years remain ere its shattering. He that slumbereth shall rise again. And when he doth, the world shall tremble."
The chamber grew colder.
The Keeper raised a hand, and the air shimmered like rippling water. A small, faintly glowing egg appeared, cradled in light.
"Know this: seven dungeons mark the path of revival. Seven gates of ruin, through which the Forgotten One's power seepeth back into this realm. Each time one dungeon awakeneth, it shall bind itself unto the Great Seven, weaving its curse deeper into the earth. One hath already chosen its place… another soon shall."
The Keeper's eyes darkened, their voice turning grave, like iron on stone.
"And when the seventh gate openeth… no seal, no star, nor even the gods themselves shall stay his return. The chains of eternity shall shatter, and all creation shall kneel or be unmade."
Altheron's chest tightened. "Then… what do I do?"
The Keeper extended the egg toward him, placing it into his trembling hands.
"Thou shalt return, child. Return unto this Dungeon of Forgotten ere the time be ripe, and claim the blade in truth. Until that day cometh, this companion shall walk with thee."
The egg pulsed softly, almost as if alive.
Altheron swallowed hard, his small fingers curling protectively around it. "And… if I fail?"
The Keeper's form flickered, their voice a whisper that shook the stones themselves.
"Then all shall fail. The Forgotten One shall stride once more across the earth… and no kingdom, no king, nor even the stars above shall endure."
The chamber quaked, the sword blazing with light once more. Altheron cried out as the world twisted around him—then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
A sudden warmth surged through his body. The wounds from the Shadow Wolf were gone, his exhaustion erased as though none of it had ever happened. Before Altheron could question it, the Keeper's voice echoed once more, soft yet thunderous, like time itself speaking into his soul.
"Thy trial endeth here. Return now, Chosen. The seal holdeth still—but not for long. Remember this, child of fate: the name of this place, whispered in ages long past, is… The Sealed One. This dungeon is the first to be bound unto the Forgotten One. In time, thou must return, for only then shalt thou truly claim thy blade."
The chamber dissolved into light. The sword's glow dimmed, the egg in his hands pulsed faintly with life, and in the blink of an eye—Altheron found himself standing at the dungeon's entrance once more.
His father rushed to him, concern written all over his face. "Altheron! You're safe… by the gods, you're safe!" He grabbed his son's shoulders, eyes scanning him for wounds.
Altheron stared at him, still trembling, the egg pressed tightly to his chest. His lips parted, words struggling to form.
"Father… I… I saw someone."
His voice was a whisper, filled with awe and dread. "A Keeper… he said the dungeon's name… The Sealed One."
His father froze, confusion and fear flickering across his face. But before Altheron could say more, the last echo of the Keeper's voice rippled faintly within his heart—reminding him that his destiny had only just begun.