Golden odyssey

Chapter 8: Chapter 8: The Weight of Sacrifice



The air was thick, saturated with the essence of time itself. Every word spoken by the creature resonated deep within Eryndal's mind, like the slow, relentless tolling of a clock marking an invisible countdown. He stood there, at the threshold of something he had never believed possible, surrounded by his companions—yet he knew that none of them truly grasped the magnitude of what awaited them. And perhaps, he thought, he didn't want to understand either.

The creature, a shifting silhouette of shadow and light, moved slowly around the circle of stones. Its form wavered, dissolving and reforming in a hypnotic dance. It watched them, its glowing eyes filled with something both benevolent and ominous.

— "You seek the truth," it repeated, its words lingering in the air like a bittersweet fragrance. "But what will you do once you find it? Truth is a weapon, a burden. You must be prepared to bear its weight. Do not forget that."

Eryndal forced himself to hold its gaze. The pressure in the room intensified, as if the creature was pulling at his thoughts, his memories. He focused on the symbol on his palm, its blue glow flickering like a fragile flame. It was the only fixed point in this whirlwind of visions—the only thing assuring him that this was not just a dream.

— "What do you expect from us?" Elion asked, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable intensity. "We came seeking what the Arch has shown us."

The creature halted, its form solidifying into something clearer, almost human. A faint smile played upon what could be called its face, but there was no warmth in it—no reassurance.

— "The Arch has revealed a truth to you. But it is incomplete. What you seek is not mere knowledge. It is power. And power always comes at a price."

A murmur ran through the group. Darek tensed, ready to react at the slightest sign of danger, while Alessia listened intently, her eyes darkening as the tension in the room thickened.

— "A price?" Eryndal repeated, his heartbeat quickening. "What kind of price?"

The creature leaned forward slightly, as if about to reveal a secret. Its breath, though nearly imperceptible, sent vibrations through the ancient stones around them.

— "The price of power is always the same: a sacrifice. You must decide what you are willing to lose in order to gain what you seek. A life, a soul, a future… What you sacrifice will determine the truth you receive."

Eryndal clenched his fists. It felt as if the ground beneath his feet was becoming increasingly unstable. The weight of the creature's words pressed down on him like an unbearable burden.

— "Why… why must we always pay?" Alessia whispered, her voice laced with a frustration she could no longer contain. "Why does the world work like this?"

The creature turned to her, and for the first time, something resembling empathy flickered in its eyes.

— "Because the world is not what you believe it to be. What you seek is only a fragment of what must be. Sacrifice is the key to balance. It is what keeps the universe in motion. What you wish to know… must be purchased."

A heavy silence followed its words. None of them knew what to say, each lost in their own thoughts, their own doubts.

Eryndal felt anxiety creeping over him. The choice they would have to make… He knew, deep in his soul, that it was a decision that would change everything. But how could anyone make such a choice?

— "How do we know if the sacrifice is worth it?" Darek finally asked, his expression as dark as the shadows surrounding them.

The creature slowly turned its head toward him, its eyes gleaming with an almost divine light.

— "You will only know once the sacrifice is made. Truth is revealed only through experience… and pain."

At those words, a surge of light burst from the center of the stone circle, flooding the chamber in an overwhelming glow. The ground trembled beneath their feet, and a voice—faint, almost a whisper from the past—drifted through the air.

— "The time has come," the voice murmured. "The choice must be made."

The light intensified, the ruins quaking under the force of the unleashed energy. Eryndal, hands clenched tightly, knew the moment was upon them. A moment of truth. A moment of sacrifice. The weight of the world seemed to press upon his shoulders, and he understood that his fate, his companions' fate—perhaps even the fate of the world itself—would be decided here, in this room, at this very instant.

The Veil of Oblivion was lifting. The price would be paid.

And they would all have to live with the consequences.


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