The Temple of the Primordial Shadow stood silent in the mountain pass, its black stones gleaming like polished obsidian in the pale light of dawn. Viktor had been gone for three months now, his body and soul merged with the ancient structure, his spirit the new guardian of the barriers that held the shadow at bay.
Ethan visited the Temple every week.
He would climb the winding path through the mountains, his steps slow and deliberate, his mind filled with memories of his friend. He would stand at the entrance, his hand resting on the cold stone, and he would speak to the silence.
"I miss you," he would say. "I miss your wisdom, your strength, your friendship. The world is a darker place without you."
And sometimes, if he listened closely, he could hear Viktor's voice echoing in the win
