The towering pillars of the ShadowAbyss felt as if they were leaning inward, crushing the very air out of the valley. As Azeal and Vaelora approached the obsidian altar at the center of the Gate, they saw something that made their blood run cold.
Fresh tracks. Not from any beast, but from heavy, armored boots.
"Luminar hooves... and the sigil of the House of Zareth," Azeal hissed, pointing to a discarded, rusted piece of a dark iron gauntlet near the entrance. "Malakor and Vane... they've already crossed. They endured the same path we did, and they've entered the void before us."
Vaelora looked at the swirling black vortex. "But the Abyss is vast, Azeal. It's a realm of a thousand shifting paths. They could be leagues away, or right behind the next shadow. We have no choice but to follow."
They stood before the Altar. Azeal drew a small, silver dagger, his hand steady despite the exhaustion. He looked at Vaelora, a silent question in his eyes. She nodded, her own hand held out, ready.
"Together," she whispered. "On the count of three."
As their blades grazed their palms, two streams of crimson blood hit the cold stone at the exact same moment.
For a heartbeat, the Gate remained silent. Then, a blinding violet light erupted from where Vaelora's blood touched the altar—the pure, ancient Royal Blood of Solthera was calling to the gate. But as Azeal's blood mingled with hers, the light flickered. The air around them groaned, a low, guttural vibration that felt like a question being asked in a forgotten language. The Gate seemed to hesitate, the shadows swirling in a confused, violent pattern.
Azeal felt a sharp, icy shiver run down his spine, a sense of "wrongness" that he couldn't explain. Vaelora felt it too—a momentary resistance from the void—but she pushed the feeling aside, thinking it was merely the dark magic of the Abyss.
"Now!" Azeal shouted, sensing the Gate opening.
The vortex suddenly stabilized into a shimmering, dark doorway. Gripping each other's hands with a strength that defied death, they stepped forward.
They didn't separate. The Abyss tried to pull them apart, its cold winds tearing at their cloaks, but their fingers remained locked. As they crossed the threshold, the world of Solthera vanished.
They were now inside the ShadowAbyss—a place where the sky was made of shifting smoke and the ground beneath their feet felt like glass. The first trial wasn't a monster or a maze; it was the SilenceoftheVoid. They were standing in a world that felt completely empty, yet they could feel a thousand eyes watching them from the dark.
"Stay close," Azeal whispered, his voice sounding small in the vast emptiness. "Malakor and Vane are here somewhere. And so is the Book."