As they advanced deeper into the vastness of the Trelvon layer, the air grew heavier, thick with the scent of stone and forgotten fires. At the heart of the cavern, they found a circular seal carved into the ground. Ancient runes spiraled around it, glowing faintly like embers of a dying flame.
Runya knelt, tracing the symbols with trembling fingers.
— "It says: 'Only the blood of Turok may open this gate. Without sacrifice, there can be no freedom.'"
Her words made Mamir's heart pound. For a moment, silence reigned. Then he stepped forward with steady resolve.
— "Do not fear, my love. You know who I am… I am the destined prince."
Placing his hand upon the seal, a chalice rose slowly from its center, formed of obsidian and etched with light. Mamir frowned.
— "So… it demands blood."
Visions of his mother's suffering and the torment of his kin burned in his mind. Compared to their agony, this was nothing. With unflinching resolve, he drew upon his own strength and offered his life's essence into the chalice. Crimson light filled it, flowing like fire.
The ritual drained him—his knees weakened, his sight dimmed. But then the ancient fae blood within him stirred, Runya's gift pulsing through his veins. He did not fall. He endured.
When the chalice brimmed, the runes blazed alive. Veins of light spread outward, crawling across the floor like rivers of fire. Runya rushed to him, sealing the wound with her magic, tears shining in her eyes.
— "Mamir, stay with me!"
The seal shuddered. Chains of stone broke apart, and a towering cage rose from the ground. Within, a man of striking beauty and indomitable spirit stood. Even after endless torment, his posture was proud, unbroken. His voice, hoarse but steady, echoed through the cavern.
— "Nephew…"
It was Necor Tutok, Mamir's uncle—the warrior held captive alone in the Trelvon depths.
---