The Forsaken Seal

Whispers in the Ruined Shrine

The ruins loomed ahead, bathed in eerie moonlight. Layron's breath came in shallow gasps as he stepped forward, his boots crunching against the cracked stone floor. The cold air wrapped around him like an unwelcome presence, but he pressed on, his eyes darting around the hollow remains of what once stood here.

He had been here before.

This was where it all started.

Where he had first heard Zorthaal's voice.

Now, he was here again. Desperate. Angry. Searching for answers no one would give him.

"Zorthaal!" Layron called out, his voice breaking through the stillness.

Silence.

His fists clenched. His heart pounded so hard he could hear it in his ears.

"I know you can hear me!"

Still, nothing.

Layron gritted his teeth. "You were there before! You spoke to me! You gave me power! So why now—when I need answers—do you stay silent?"

The wind whispered around him, stirring the dust and dry leaves.

Then—

His shadow moved.

Layron's breath hitched.

It was subtle at first, barely noticeable. But then, it stretched.

The darkness beneath him twisted unnaturally, pulling away from his feet, rising as if it had a will of its own. The edges blurred, shifting like a liquid form breaking free from the ground.

Layron's pulse quickened. He stepped back, but the shadow didn't follow.

Instead, it rose.

Two faintly glowing eyes emerged within the darkness, distorted, inhuman.

A shape took form—tall, wavering, made of nothing but black mist.

And then, it spoke.

"You must act now."

Layron stiffened. His breath felt caught in his throat.

"Zorthaal…"

The figure's eyes flickered. Its form wavered, as if unstable.

"They will come."

Layron swallowed hard. His fists clenched.

"Who's coming?"

"The ones who fear you. The ones who fear what you will become."

Layron's body tensed. His thoughts raced.

"What do you mean?"

The shadow loomed closer. The air around Layron grew heavy, suffocating.

"Awaken me."

Layron's stomach twisted.

The words sent a shiver down his spine, a feeling he couldn't explain.

His lips parted, his voice hoarse. "How? What do I have to do?"

For a long moment, the shadow remained still, the glowing eyes burning into him.

Then—

"When the time comes… you will know how to do that."

Layron's breath shuddered. His mind screamed in frustration.

"What does that even mean?!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the shrine. "Why are you always so cryptic? Just tell me what to do!"

But the shadow quivered, and then—

It dissolved.

The darkness slipped back into the ground, retreating, merging with his own shadow as if it had never moved.

The ruins fell silent once more.

Layron stood there, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

His hands trembled. His skin was cold.

He had come all this way, pushing aside fear, pushing aside reason, only to be left in the dark again.

He let out a frustrated breath and turned away, forcing his legs to move.

Whatever this was—whatever was happening—it wasn't over.

Not even close.

---

A Forced Distraction

Morning sunlight streamed through the window as Layron sat at the table, barely touching his food. The events of last night weighed on him like a stone, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

Gramps watched him carefully.

And then, casually, as if nothing had happened, he spoke.

"We're going out today."

Layron frowned. "Out where?"

"An exhibition. Something different," Gramps said, his voice light, almost too casual.

Layron immediately knew what this was.

A distraction.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why now?"

Gramps sipped his tea. "Why not?"

Layron didn't believe it. But he didn't argue either.

Anya, on the other hand, was already excited. "Finally! Something fun! Layron, don't you dare sulk through this."

He sighed, shaking his head.

Maybe stepping away from everything for a bit would help clear his mind.

Or maybe this was just another way to keep him in the dark.

---

The Voices in His Mind

The exhibition was packed with people—families, students, historians. The air buzzed with chatter, the hum of excitement filling the space. Ancient artifacts lined the displays, relics from different eras, weapons, scrolls, statues of long-forgotten figures.

Layron let Anya lead the way, half-listening as she pointed out things that caught her attention.

For a brief moment, he almost felt normal.

Almost.

Then, it started.

A faint noise.

Not from the crowd.

Not from Zorthaal.

From inside his mind.

Layron stopped walking.

The voices were deep, layered on top of each other. Distorted. Twisting.

They weren't clear.

They weren't just one.

They were many.

"The seal is breaking."

"He is waking."

"It's too soon."

"He cannot control it."

Layron's breath quickened. His head throbbed. The words blurred together, overlapping into an unintelligible mess.

"Find him."

"Stop him."

"No, let him awaken."

"He is the key."

"He is the danger."

Layron pressed his hands to his temples, squeezing his eyes shut.

The voices were everywhere.

Too many at once.

He couldn't understand them. He couldn't pick them apart.

They were all speaking over each other, crashing into his skull like an unstoppable tide.

He staggered back.

The world tilted.

His vision swam.

The voices grew louder.

More chaotic.

More desperate.

"He must awaken."

"He must not awaken."

"Too early—too late—too dangerous—"

Layron's knees buckled.

Then—darkness.

---

A Sudden Collapse

A sharp beeping sound. The sterile smell of antiseptic. A white ceiling.

Layron groaned, his body heavy, his mind sluggish.

"Layron?"

Anya's voice.

His vision cleared. She was hovering over him, her face lined with worry. Gramps stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed, silent as always.

"You scared the hell out of us," Anya muttered.

Layron swallowed, his throat dry. "What… happened?"

"You collapsed," Gramps said simply. "Out cold for nearly an hour."

Gramps in his mind , "I guess it's going to happen very soon than I expected"

Layron blinked. His mind was still hazy.

The voices.

The echoes.

They weren't dreams.

He looked at Gramps. His stomach twisted.

This wasn't just some strange power flaring up.

Something—or someone—was trying to reach him.

And for the first time, Layron felt it.

This wasn't just happening to him.

It was happening because of him.

And whatever was coming…

He wasn't sure he was ready for it.

The questions raised here are....

But later Gramps far away friend visits Layron and later they both started discussing about this issue all alone...

Who are they?

What they trying to say?

What's happening for Layron?

Why Gramps far away friend visits Layron all of sudden?

What they secretly talking to eachother all alone?

---