Page 59

The Architect

T he barrier shimmered around Kai, blocking any of us from getting closer. He took a slow step forward, toward the obsidian sphere, his hand outstretched as he continued to speak.

“I remember things…,” he said, his voice echoing through the chamber. “From my old life. From before Cindersea…”

His eyes were distant, unfocused, as if seeing something beyond the chamber walls. “A world of metal and light. Cities that touched the sky. I was... important. I helped people.”

“Kai!” I shouted, pressing my palms against the barrier. It felt like solid glass, immovable despite my desperate pushing. “Kai, don’t touch it!”

But he didn’t seem to hear me. The purple mist swirled thicker around him, obscuring his lower body as he took another step toward the floating fragment.

“It’s a piece of something larger,” he murmured, his voice eerily calm. “A fragment of... memory. Ancient. Broken.”

Sky slammed his spear against the barrier, the metal shaft reverberating with a sound like struck crystal. “It’s manipulating him! We have to get him out of there!”

Mira moved to my side, her hands tracing arcane patterns in the air. “The barrier is formed from pure magic unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I… I don’t know how long it would take me to break it.”

“We don’t have time for that,” Rhia growled, her knuckles white as she pressed against the invisible wall .

Inside the barrier, Kai had almost reached the obsidian sphere. The heartbeat sound had become deafening, each pulse sending vibrations through the stone beneath our feet. Cracks spread across the chamber floor, following the lines of the celestial mosaic.

“Oliver,” Sky grabbed my arm, his blue eyes intense. “Your eyes are glowing again. The Twilight mark… maybe you can break through where we can’t.”

I looked down at my staff, then back at the barrier.

The Twilight Veil was my strongest spell, but I’d never managed to sustain it for more than a few seconds.

What good would a barrier do against another barrier?

But then I remembered, the Twilight Veil amplified my own power.

If I could bring it up, even only for a moment, I could use Twilight’s Judgment to strike the barrier.

I knew it probably wouldn’t work, but I had to try.

“Everyone stand back,” I ordered, planting my feet firmly on the cracking floor.

I closed my eyes, calling forth the power that had marked me in the ancient ruins. The familiar tingling sensation spread from my chest outward, racing along my limbs until my skin felt electrified. When I opened my eyes, I knew they were glowing white, casting light across the barrier’s surface.

“Grant me your protection,” I whispered, channeling everything I had into the spell.

The magic erupted from my staff, a swirling torrent of shadow and light that slammed into the barrier. For a moment, nothing happened… Then a hairline fracture appeared, spreading like ice cracking on a frozen lake.

“It’s working!” Kuro shouted, readying his sword.

I pushed harder, feeling my strength draining rapidly. The barrier splintered further, pieces of it dissolving into the purple mist. But as quickly as the cracks formed, they began to seal themselves, the magic fighting back against my intrusion.

“No!” I cried, not ready to give up. “I won’t let you hurt Kai!”

Hefting my staff high, I chanted quickly, calling up the spell for Twilight’s Judgement.

Suddenly my new staff was glowing white in my hands, the light nearly blinding as I swung it high.

Power danced around my arms and fingers, arcing through the air like electricity.

Then, with all the strength I could muster, I swung the staff toward the barrier, praying it would be enough.

The spell crashed into the barrier with a thunderous boom, light and shadow intertwining like lovers as they tore through the magical wall.

The impact sent me staggering backward, my legs nearly buckling as the energy drained from my body.

But the barrier was shattering, fragments of magic dissolving into the air like glass turned to dust.

“Go!” I gasped, my vision swimming as Sky caught my arm to steady me. “Get Kai!”

Rhia was already moving, her powerful legs launching her through the gap I’d created before it could seal itself. The purple mist swirled angrily around her, tendrils reaching for her limbs, but she batted them away with cloth-wrapped fists that glowed with channeled energy.

“Kai!” she shouted, reaching for him. “Don’t touch it!”

But it was too late.

Kai’s fingertips brushed against the obsidian sphere, and everything stopped. The heartbeat sound ceased abruptly. The purple mist froze in place, suspended like insects in amber. Even the cracks spreading across the floor halted their progress.

In the sudden silence, Kai’s voice echoed unnaturally. “I can see everything,” he whispered, his eyes wide and unfocused. “All of it. Before. After. The beginning. The end.”

The obsidian sphere pulsed once, a ripple of energy emanating from its cracked surface. The pulse hit Rhia first, throwing her backward through the remnants of the barrier. Kuro caught her before she could slam into the wall, both of them tumbling to the ground.

Then, with a sound like a thousand whispers suddenly speaking in unison, the barrier shattered and all the entrances to the chamber slammed shut at the same time.

The chamber plunged into darkness for a heartbeat before the obsidian sphere erupted with light, bathing everything in an eerie purple glow. I struggled to my feet, leaning heavily on my staff as the last of my strength ebbed away.

“Kai!” I called out, my voice thin and desperate in the unnatural silence.

He stood motionless before the floating fragment, his back to us, silhouetted against the pulsing light. The purple mist had completely enveloped him now, swirling around his body like a cocoon.

“I hear it,” Sky whispered beside me, his wolf ears fully erect, swiveling in distress. “All of you must hear it too.”

And then I did. Whispers, countless overlapping voices speaking words that seemed pulled from my own mind.

Fragments of memories I couldn’t quite grasp, conversations I’d never had, emotions I’d forgotten until this moment.

From the expressions on everyone’s faces, they were experiencing the same thing .

“They’re from before,” Mira gasped, tears streaming down her face. “From our lives before Cindersea.”

The whispers grew louder, more insistent, each targeting us individually with cruel precision. I heard my name, my real name from before, spoken in a voice I almost recognized. It taunted me with failures I couldn’t remember, regrets I could feel but not understand.

“Don’t listen!” Sky growled, his hands pressed against his wolf ears. “Don’t let it break you!”

I stumbled toward Kai, fighting against both the whispers and my own exhaustion. “Kai, please! Step away from it!”

But Kai remained transfixed, his fingers now fully pressed against the obsidian surface. The sphere’s cracks were sealing themselves, the purple light intensifying with each passing second.

“You are all without memory,” a new voice boomed, different from the whispers, deeper, ancient, and somehow familiar. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. “It is time you stopped dreaming.”

The obsidian sphere flashed blindingly bright. Kai’s body went rigid, his back arching as if struck by lightning. He let out a choked gasp that transformed into a scream of pure agony.

“No!” I lunged forward, but Sky caught me around the waist.

“Oliver, don’t! It’ll take you too!”

Kai collapsed to his knees, still touching the sphere, his body convulsing as waves of purple energy coursed over him. His eyes were wide open but completely blank, glowing with the same light as the fragment.

“We have to help him!” I struggled against Sky’s grip.

“How?” Rhia demanded, helping Kuro to his feet. “That thing could kill us all!”

The whispers suddenly ceased, leaving an absence so profound it felt like pressure against my eardrums. Kai’s body went still, his head bowed forward as if in prayer or death. The obsidian sphere pulsed one final time before going dark, its surface now smooth and uncracked.

“Kai!” I broke free from Sky’s grip and rushed forward, my exhaustion forgotten in the surge of fear for my friend.

I reached him just as he slumped sideways, catching his shoulders before his head could strike the stone floor. His skin burned hot beneath my fingers, fever-bright and slick with sweat.

“Is he...?” Mira’s voice trembled as she crept closer, her wand extended cautiously before her.

I pressed my fingers to Kai’s neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there, racing and erratic, but present. “He’s alive,” I said, relief washing through me. “But something’s wrong. His heartbeat is too fast.”

Sky crouched beside us, his ears flat against his head as he studied Kai’s face. “His eyes,” he murmured.

I looked down and felt my breath catch. Kai’s eyes were open but unseeing, the warm brown irises now threaded with pulsing purple veins that spread from his pupils like cracks in glass.

“Whatever was in that sphere,” Rhia said grimly, “it’s inside him now.”

The obsidian fragment hovered silently above its pedestal, now dark and seemingly dormant. The air in the chamber had changed, the oppressive weight of ancient magic replaced by an expectant stillness.

“We need to get him out of here,” Kuro said, sheathing his sword and moving to help lift Kai. “Before Boromia arrives.”

“But the doors,” Mira gestured toward the sealed entrances, “they’re all closed.”

“Don’t you have an unlocking spell or something?” I begged, staring up at Mira. “You’ve got to have something!”

Mira’s hands trembled as she shook her head. “This isn’t a simple lock… it’s ancient magic. Even if I had an unlocking spell, it’s only for mundane doors, not... whatever this is.”

I cradled Kai’s head in my lap, his skin burning against my touch. Purple veins pulsed beneath his eyelids, spreading slowly across his temples. His breathing came in shallow gasps, each one making my heart clench with fear.

“We can’t just sit here waiting for Boromia to find us trapped like rats,” Sky growled, pacing the perimeter of the chamber. His tail lashed anxiously behind him as he pressed his palms against the sealed doorway. “There has to be another way out.”

Rhia joined him, running her hands along the seam where the massive stone doors had fused together. “No physical lock to break,” she muttered. “No hinges to smash.”

“Maybe...” Mira approached the dormant obsidian sphere cautiously, her wand extended before her like a divining rod. “Maybe whatever sealed the doors can unseal them.”

“No!” I shouted, more forcefully than I intended. “Nobody else touches that thing. Look what it did to Kai.”

As if responding to his name, Kai’s body suddenly convulsed. His back arched off the ground, a strangled sound escaping his throat. The purple veins beneath his skin glowed brighter, spreading down his neck and disappearing beneath his collar .

“Oliver!” Sky was at my side instantly. “What’s happening to him?”

I placed my hands on Kai’s shoulders, trying to keep him from injuring himself as the seizure wracked his body. “I don’t know! My healing spells might help, but?—”

“You’re too drained,” Sky finished, his blue eyes meeting mine. “Let me try Nature’s Embrace.”

Without waiting for my response, Sky placed his palms on Kai’s chest. His eyes closed in concentration as green energy flickered between his fingers, the druid magic seeking to channel life force from the surrounding area.

But instead of the usual gentle glow, the energy sputtered and died, as if rejected by Kai’s body.

“It’s not working,” Sky muttered, frustration evident in his voice. “Whatever’s in him is blocking my magic.”

Kai’s convulsions suddenly stopped. His body went limp, his head lolling to one side. For one terrible moment, I thought we’d lost him, until his eyes snapped open, now completely suffused with swirling purple light.

“You are without memory,” he said, but it wasn’t Kai’s voice. It was the same ancient, resonant voice that had filled the chamber earlier. “That is not my doing.”

We all scrambled backward as Kai sat up with unnatural fluidity, his movements jerky yet precise, like a puppet controlled by invisible strings. His head tilted at an odd angle as he surveyed us, his gaze passing over each of us with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

“What are you?” Sky demanded, spear held defensively before him. “And what have you done to Kai?”

Kai’s body rose to its feet, movements still unnervingly mechanical. The purple light in his eyes pulsed with each word. “I am memory. I am knowledge. I am what remains of the one you call the Architect.”

“The Architect?” Mira whispered, her knuckles white around her wand. “I’ve never heard of such a deity.”

A sound like distant laughter emanated from Kai’s throat. “Not a deity. A creator. The creator.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. “You’re lying. Let Kai go!”

“Your friend offered himself willingly,” the entity replied through Kai’s mouth. “He sought answers. I have given them.”

“We don’t care about answers,” Rhia snarled, stepping forward menacingly. “We want our friend back.”

Kai’s possessed body turned toward the dormant obsidian sphere.

“This fragment contains but a fraction of what I once was. Your kind shattered me, fearing what I knew. What I could tell you.” His hand reached out, fingers hovering just above the dark surface.

“Time for you all to remember who you are.”

However, before his fingers could make contact, there was a sudden burst of golden light. In an instant a giant golden ring appeared between Kai and the sphere, the force of the magic blowing him off his feet. He hit the ground hard at my feet, his head striking the stone as his body went limp.

Before I could reach for him, a figure appeared, wreathed in gold.

“Well, well, well,” the familiar voice chuckled. “That went perfectly to plan. Thank you for being so predictable.”