When he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by infinite darkness. The only light was the moon, which shone down through the hole above. He tried to move, and a sharp pain washed through him. He wanted to cry out, to call for help, but he knew he was completely alone down there.
Slowly, he stood, gritting his teeth and resisting the pain. He examined himself. Fortunately, he had escaped the fall without serious injury—just a small cut on his left arm and a few bruises on his legs and elbows.
He looked around, but the darkness surrounded him completely. He had no clue where to go. Where could the exit be, if there was one at all? He looked up into the crevice, and it became immediately clear that he couldn't climb out. Fear crept into his heart. He had never been in such a situation before. His eyes filled with worry as he searched for any way out, but in the deep darkness, there was nothing.
The basket lay in pieces at his feet, and beneath the scattered herbs he found the small knife. He picked it up, and with determination, he stepped into the darkness.
With his fingers stretched out, groping ahead, he moved cautiously. He sighed with relief when the floor didn't collapse beneath him. He surely wouldn't survive another fall.
His hand touched a cold, smooth surface, and his fingers closed around a lever. He pulled it without thinking. From behind the wall came a sound like a machine awakening, and in an instant, a faint blue glow spread through the vast hall. Selgan stared in disbelief. What had seemed like a mere ruin from above concealed an immense structure. The walls were crumbling in several places and covered with moss, while columns stood a few meters apart, and between them, the spheres of light he had seen above glimmered like mystical stars.
At the far end of the hall, he spotted a gate. With some relief he hurried over. As soon as he stepped through, the gate closed behind him, and Selgan was bathed in light. He found himself in another hall, vaster and more imposing than the last.
The walls here were completely intact, and they were covered with frescoes. The first one was right beside him. It depicted three figures. On the left stood a black, shadow-like being with glowing deep purple eyes, and on the right a woman with radiant blond hair, fair skin, and glowing turquoise eyes—whom he recognized immediately. It was Alaya, goddess of the Church of Light, creator and protector of the world. The most unusual, however, was the figure in the middle, whom he did not recognize. She was taller than the other two, dressed in strange, scale-like clothing, her skin pale, and her eyes glowing ruby red. Below the images, at eye level, Selgan noticed strange carvings.
The series of frescoes continued. It was a chronicle of an ancient war. Warriors and monsters emerged from the darkness and fought against the goddess's armies. Selgan then realized that what he was seeing was probably the story of the war against Arnack, the god of darkness and destruction—the war in which Alaya's followers drove away the demonic armies in the blessed light of the goddess. Yet these images did not depict the war as it appeared in the teachings of the Light.
Selgan rarely went to church and attended prayer services even less often. Yet he was certain that dragons had never been mentioned at all. And yet, in the paintings, alongside the goddess's paladins and acolytes, colossal dragons joined the fight against the demonic armies.
Selgan looked around, wondering in whose honor this church had been built. If it was a temple for Alaya, then the priest would not have been buried in the forest.
Come closer.
He stopped immediately and looked around, searching for the source of the voice, but he didn't see anything.
He gulped. He was not alone, and whoever was here did not want to reveal themselves. The icy feeling of fear completely froze him in place, and he couldn't take even a single step forward. Even the small blade trembled in his hands. He wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. He was trapped in this underground temple along with a strange voice.
Then, at the end of the hall, a faint bluish light emerged from nothingness, taking shape as a strange gate. Selgan just stood there without moving an inch. He didn't know what to do. The only way out was through the strange magical door, but he had no idea where it would lead. Perhaps he would simply disappear into the void.
Do I even have a choice?
He sighed and, with newfound determination, took a step toward the gate. He stopped before it. He felt a strange sensation like never before. It was as if something inside him wanted to go there. The fear completely disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. Selgan smiled as the suffocating feeling vanished.
He took the final step to the gate. He felt as if a stream of cold water washed through him. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again he stood in a glamorous place. The walls glowed with a blue-silver light, the ceiling was missing, and the strangely bright light of the moon shone like a beam onto the huge alabaster platform in the middle.
On the platform stood a majestic sculpture that was at least five meters tall. It was the mystical third figure from the frescoes. The statue highlighted every feature of the woman in detail. It was a beautiful, lifelike creation. Her slender body was enveloped in a long, elegant dress. Her facial features were proud and unyielding. Her eyes were two glowing rubies. And at the tips of her fingers were claws.
"Just who exactly are you?" said Selgan.
The figurine was somehow familiar to him, as if he had met her before, but that was impossible. Strange feelings swirled inside him. Alongside curiosity and fear, he also felt a sense of homecoming, as if he had been here before, or at least in a place like this.
He went closer to the statue. With every step the familiar feeling grew stronger. He gulped, stretched out his finger and uncertainly touched the cold stone figurine. Then for a moment everything went dark, even the moon lost its light.
You're here at last.
The strange voice echoed again, and Selgan, like lightning, took a step back. His eyes scanned the hall, but again he couldn't see the source of the voice.
"Where are you?" he asked nervously. "Where is this place?"
The walls responded with silence and Selgan grew even more nervous.
You have nothing to fear from me.
"Who are you?" asked Selgan.
I think you already know.
Selgan glanced at the statue, whose ruby eyes were glowing red like fire. No matter how crazy and impossible it seemed, it was all he could think about.
Suddenly a wave of satisfaction washed over him. He shuddered at the strange feeling, as if he had been overwhelmed by the emotions of a foreign being.
"Get out of my head!" he shouted.
He heard laughter in his mind. It seemed that the owner of the voice was greatly amused by his request. Selgan growled in frustration.
We are bound together. We became one the moment you touched the statue.
Selgan swallowed nervously. He couldn't take his eyes off the ruby eyes.
"Why me?"
You are the first to be admitted. The first to be found worthy.
"But that was nothing more than a coincidence," Selgan objected. "I simply..."
You followed the light. The light that appeared only to you over so many years. It led you here, to me.
"Who exactly are you?" Selgan asked nervously.
My name is Neythira. Now, my child, it is time for us to finally leave this place. I wonder how much the world has changed over the past millennia.