Kaelen awoke on cold stone, the air around him damp and heavy. He sat up, wincing at the ache in his limbs, and saw that he was in a vast hall lit only by braziers filled with black fire. Shadows writhed along the walls, whispering in tongues he could not understand. At the far end, the woman with silver eyes watched him from a throne of obsidian. She looked neither old nor young, her face pale as moonlight, her hair a river of night.
"You walk boldly into a kingdom forsaken by gods," she said. "Either you are a fool, or fate has marked you."
"I am Kaelen," he managed, his voice trembling but steady. "A scholar. I seek knowledge."
The woman tilted her head. "Knowledge is the sharpest blade in Umbriel. And the most dangerous. Tell me, Kaelen, do you know whose hall you stand in?"
He shook his head.
"I am Seraphyne, High Consort of the Shadow King. His eyes see all who enter. His will binds the shadows you breathe." She leaned forward. "And he will want to know why a mortal dares trespass into his dominion."
Kaelen felt a chill run through him. "If your king rules this place, then let me speak with him. I came not to trespass, but to learn."
Seraphyne laughed softly, though the sound carried a cutting edge. "The king is not so easily found. His court is hidden, even from those who serve him. But perhaps… you may prove yourself worthy of an audience."
She rose, gliding toward him like a phantom. "There are places within Umbriel where even shadows fear to tread. Go there, and return with what I ask, and perhaps I will take you to the king."
Kaelen narrowed his eyes. "And if I refuse?"
"Then you will remain here, a guest of the shadows, until they decide to consume you." Her smile was sharp as a blade.
"What must I do?" he asked.
Seraphyne's silver gaze burned into him. "Beyond these halls lies the Vale of Murmurs. There you will find the Echo Well—a pool where voices of the dead linger. Bring me the Whisper Stone hidden in its depths. But beware: the dead do not surrender their secrets easily."
Kaelen's throat tightened. He had read of such places in myths, but never dreamed they existed. "And if I succeed?"
"Then," she said, "you will have taken your first step toward truth."
With no other choice, Kaelen agreed. He was given only a lantern of black flame to guide him, and the shadows parted reluctantly to let him pass. The Vale of Murmurs stretched out before him, a barren wasteland where the ground cracked like parched lips. As he walked, whispers rose around him—voices calling his name, voices of the dead, promising secrets, begging for release. His heart pounded, but he pressed forward until he reached a pool that shimmered with silver light.
The Echo Well.
Kneeling, he peered into the water. His reflection stared back at him—but it was wrong. Its eyes were black, its mouth twisted in a mocking grin. Then it spoke: "You seek the Whisper Stone, scholar. But do you dare take it, knowing what it reveals?"
Kaelen clenched his fists. "I came for truth."
"Then plunge your hand into the depths," the reflection hissed. "And claim it."
He did. The water burned like ice, searing his skin, and screams erupted around him. Faces swirled in the depths, crying out, clawing at him. He gritted his teeth, reaching deeper until his fingers closed around something cold and smooth. With a cry, he tore it free—a stone blacker than night, pulsing with whispers.
The pool erupted, sending waves crashing around him, but Kaelen staggered back with the stone in his hand. The whispers clawed at his mind, threatening to drive him mad. Somehow, he stumbled back to Seraphyne's hall, collapsing before her throne.
She picked up the stone, her silver eyes gleaming. "So it is true. The Whisper Stone still exists." She looked down at him. "Perhaps you are more than a mere fool."
Kaelen forced himself to meet her gaze. "Now… take me to your king."
Her smile widened. "In time, scholar. But know this—the truth you seek may shatter you. For in the Shadow Kingdom, truth is darker than any lie."