Chapter Eight: The Chamber of Forgotten Truths
685 Words
A cold wind swept across the mountains.
Eleanor had barely slept. The dream of her parents still lingered in her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, she heard the old priest's voice.
"The Thirteenth Heir has been born." She looked at the Alpha Gem hanging around her neck.
"Who am I?" she whispered. No answer came. Only silence. Haniel was already awake. He stood at the edge of the cliff, watching the sunrise. Without turning around, he said,
"The Gem is leading us."
Eleanor frowned. "Leading us where?"
"To a place no one has entered in four hundred years." Lyra's cheerful expression faded.
"The Chamber of Echoes..." Even she sounded afraid.
Three hours later... They stood before an enormous stone mountain. There was no entrance. Only a smooth wall covered with ancient carvings. At its center was a circle made of thirteen stars. Eleanor stepped closer.
The Alpha Gem suddenly became warm.
The stars began glowing one after another.
One... Two... Three...
Until all thirteen burned with brilliant blue light. The mountain trembled. A deafening rumble echoed through the valley.
Then... The stone wall slowly split apart. An ancient doorway appeared. Cold air poured from the darkness beyond.
Haniel tightened his grip on his spear.
"It has accepted you." Lyra whispered,
"No one enters the Chamber unchanged."
Inside... The chamber was unlike anything Eleanor had ever seen. Thousands of floating crystals illuminated the vast hall.
Ancient murals covered the walls.
Kings, Queens, Warriors, and Guardians.
And at the very end... Thirteen magnificent thrones.
Twelve were occupied. The thirteenth...
Was empty. Eleanor slowly approached it.
Her heartbeat echoed through the chamber.
Then... A voice filled the room.
loud. It's not frightening.
Ancient.
"Welcome home..." Eleanor spun around.
No one stood behind her. "Who's there?"
The floating crystals suddenly brightened.
One crystal drifted toward her. The moment she touched it. The chamber disappeared.
She stood in the palace once again. But this memory was different. She wasn't a baby anymore. She was six years old. Little Eleanor ran through the royal gardens laughing. Behind her chased another little girl.
Seraphina. They laughed together. Played together. Held hands.
Eleanor stopped in shock. "They were... friends?" The memory answered her.
The young Queen Elara smiled from the balcony. "Take care of your little sister."
Little Eleanor laughed.
"I always will!" Eleanor felt tears forming.
"This..."This isn't what I remember."
The memory changed. Rain poured over the palace. Queen Elara lay weak in bed.
King Aldren held her trembling hand.
Outside the door... Theresa stood listening.
Her face showed no sadness. Only patience.
She was waiting. Waiting for the queen to die. The, another figure appeared from the shadows.
A hooded man.
He handed Theresa a tiny crystal vial.
She hid it inside her sleeve.
Eleanor's heart raced.
"No..."
The scene shifted again.
Queen Elara drank from a silver cup.
Hours later...
Her breathing became shallow.
The royal physicians rushed into the room.
No one could save her.
King Aldren fell to his knees.
The palace wept.
Outside...
Theresa smiled.
Eleanor stumbled backward.
"My mother..."
"She didn't die from illness..."
"She was murdered."
Her voice echoed through the chamber.
The floating crystals began shaking violently.
Haniel reached for her.
"Eleanor!"
But it was too late.
The chamber had awakened.
Every crystal in the hall burst into light.
An enormous figure slowly emerged from the center of the room. He wore armor of white stone etched with glowing runes.
In one hand, he carried a sword taller than a man.
His eyes burned like blue fire.
Lyra gasped.
"The First Guardian..." The giant looked directly at Eleanor. His voice shook the entire mountain. "If you seek the truth..." He lifted his sword."Then prove you are worthy of it." The doors slammed shut behind them. The floor cracked.
The statues lining the walls came alive. One... Five... Twenty...
Then hundreds. Haniel stepped in front of Eleanor. Lyra raised one of her crystal flutes.
The Guardian's sword pointed toward them.
His final words echoed through the chamber.
"Only those willing to sacrifice everything... may inherit the Thirteenth Throne."
The first statue charged.
- Writer
