Chapter 285 Voice from the Old Stone — Harut & Marut’s Testament
The atmosphere beneath the Temple of Mount became deeply silent, evoking a profound sense of anticipation and solitude.
It was not just an ordinary silence—rather, it was a stillness that separated the world from all that is mundane. This hush seemed to act as a veil between the present moment and the unspoken past.
It felt as if the universe was holding its breath, honoring the secrets hidden within the cave; this stillness, infused with the whispers of the wind, carried the scents of dampness and ancient earth, creating an impression that the very ground was inhaling. Each shifting shadow whispered hints of the beings who once traversed this land, instilling a deep reverence for the passage of time and a recognition of this place's timeless significance in the annals of history.
From this condition flowed a gentle breeze, as if the roots were whispering secrets of future potentials, illustrating the intangible connection that Sheena—the mysterious entity—might possess with the ancient energies surrounding them. This connection raises curiosity about her significant role in maintaining the balance between the old and the new, and how her destiny is intertwined with the unfolding narrative of history itself.
Surrounding them, the cave walls were adorned with ancient carvings that depicted legendary creatures—some with broken wings, others with eyes blinded by knowledge—sculpted alongside symbols of magic. Each symbol danced in the soft light, eager to tell its story. These carvings were not mere decorations; they were tales etched by hands long turned to dust, narrating sacrifices, falls, and rebirths that the modern world had nearly forgotten. In the dark corners of the walls, mysterious spiral symbols depicted the unexpected journey of Sheena, a figure regarded both as a savior and a traitor, stirring equal parts of unease and awe among the guardians of history.
As they ventured deeper, time seemed to slow. It felt as if they were no longer just walking through space but also along the paths of the world's memories. The blue-green light from the Void crystals embedded in the walls reflected their shadows, forming silhouettes that resembled the spirits of two explorers daring to challenge history itself. In this phantasmagoric light, faint shadows of beings appeared, visible only to those who were sought—guardians of the Tree of Life, forever bearing witness, as if marking the significance of their journey in creating a new timeline for forgotten history.
"This place is older than all the kingdoms," Rinoa whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and subtle fear. "Older than Gamma... perhaps even older than the very essence of magic itself."
"This is the center of the world's wound," she continued, her voice vibrating with the weight of its meaning, suggesting that decisions made here would have far-reaching consequences, both for the world and for themselves.
Here, the ancient will chooses to be forgotten.
And the new will... must choose between remembering or erasing."
Amidst the silence, the aroma of ancient flowers long extinct in the outside world enveloped them, imparting a profound sense of nostalgia, reminding them of the fragile connection between life and the immeasurable void.