Kingdom of Yabla Vol.1: Aric Valen's Journey

Chapter 11: The Abyss

Aric's body felt weightless as he plummeted into the darkness. The air rushed past him, cold and biting, his mind racing as the distant roar of the Sentinels faded above. Time seemed to stretch, each second an eternity as he descended into the unknown.

And then, with a jarring impact, he hit something hard. The wind was knocked from his lungs, and for a moment, he lay there, dazed and breathless, the world spinning around him.

When the pain subsided, Aric blinked his eyes open, his vision blurry but gradually sharpening. He was lying on a rocky ledge, the faint glow of the distant sky above barely visible through the jagged edges of the chasm he had fallen into. His body ached from the fall, but nothing seemed broken.

"Alistair?" Aric's voice was weak, hoarse, echoing through the cavern.

There was no response. The silence pressed in around him, broken only by the distant rumble of the mountains and the occasional drip of water echoing in the dark. The air down here was cold, damp, and heavy with the weight of ancient magic.

Panic surged through him as he struggled to his feet, his legs trembling. He looked up, trying to spot the place where he had fallen, but the chasm was deep, and the light from above barely penetrated the darkness. There was no way back up. He was alone.

"Alistair!" he called again, his voice cracking with desperation.

Still no answer.

Aric's heart raced, his mind spinning with fear and uncertainty. He had no idea where he was, no idea how deep into the mountain he had fallen. The crown's weight was still heavy in his satchel, its dark energy pulsing faintly, as if it, too, was waiting—watching.

"You cannot escape me." The crown's voice was a whisper, a shadow in the back of his mind. "We are one, Aric Valen. You know this."

Aric clenched his fists, trying to push the voice away, but the pull of the crown was stronger now, amplified by the ancient magic that permeated the mountains. It was as though the very air down here was alive, humming with the same power that bound the crown to him.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He couldn't afford to lose focus, not now. He needed to find a way out, needed to reunite with Alistair before the Sentinels—or worse, Tavar—caught up with them.

Gritting his teeth, Aric scanned the cavern around him. The ledge he had landed on jutted out over a deep abyss, the ground disappearing into darkness below. On the far side of the chasm, he could just make out a narrow passage, the only visible way forward. It wasn't much of an option, but it was better than sitting here, waiting for something to find him.

With a deep breath, Aric adjusted the straps of his satchel, making sure the crown was secure, and began to pick his way carefully along the rocky ledge. Every step was cautious, his hands gripping the jagged stone to keep his balance. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and ancient stone, and every sound—every footstep, every breath—seemed to echo in the vast emptiness around him.

As he neared the edge of the abyss, the ground beneath his feet shifted slightly, a small rock tumbling into the darkness below. Aric froze, his heart skipping a beat as he listened, waiting for the sound of the stone hitting the bottom. But it never came. The chasm was deep—deeper than he had realized.

Swallowing hard, Aric forced himself to keep moving. The narrow passage was just a few feet away now, a thin opening carved into the side of the cavern wall. It was small, barely wide enough for him to squeeze through, but it was something.

When he finally reached it, Aric paused, taking a moment to catch his breath. His body ached, his muscles screaming from the tension of the climb, but he couldn't stop. Not yet.

He slipped through the passage, his shoulders brushing against the rough stone as he entered a narrow tunnel. The air here was even colder, and the faint hum of magic seemed to grow stronger, more insistent. The tunnel wound downward, deeper into the mountain, and as Aric followed its twists and turns, the weight of the crown seemed to press more heavily on him.

"You cannot run from what you are," the crown whispered again, its voice soft but persistent. "I am a part of you, Aric. You cannot fight me forever."

Aric gritted his teeth, his fists clenching. "I won't let you control me," he muttered under his breath.

The crown's laughter was cold, mocking. "You already have. You felt it, didn't you? The power, the strength. It is yours, Aric. Embrace it."

He shook his head, trying to push the voice away, but it lingered, creeping through his thoughts like a shadow. The further he went into the mountain, the stronger the pull became, the more the crown's whispers wormed their way into his mind.

Suddenly, the tunnel opened up into a massive cavern, its ceiling so high it disappeared into darkness. Massive stone pillars, worn smooth by time, rose from the ground, their surfaces covered in ancient runes that glowed faintly in the dim light. The air here was heavy with magic, the same wild, untamed power that had stirred the Sentinels. But this place was different. It felt... ancient, sacred.

At the center of the cavern stood an enormous stone altar, its surface etched with intricate symbols. The air around it crackled with energy, and Aric could feel the crown reacting to it, its magic pulsing more strongly now, like a heartbeat.

"This is where it all began," the crown whispered, its voice filled with dark anticipation. "This is where you will claim your destiny."

Aric's breath caught in his throat as he stared at the altar, the weight of the crown's words settling over him like a heavy cloak. This place—whatever it was—held power. Ancient power, older than the crown itself.

His hand instinctively went to the satchel, but he froze, his mind racing. The crown was pulling him toward the altar, urging him to place it there, to unlock whatever secrets lay hidden within the ancient runes. But he knew what that would mean. He knew what the crown wanted.

"You are the heir of Valen. Only you can wield me. Only you can unlock the true power of the Obsidian Crown."

Aric's hand hovered over the satchel, his heart pounding. He could feel the pull of the crown, the temptation to give in, to finally embrace the power that had been promised to him. But he couldn't. Not like this. Not without knowing the cost.

Before he could decide what to do, a sudden sound echoed through the cavern—a low, guttural growl that sent a shiver down his spine. Aric turned, his eyes scanning the darkness, but there was nothing. Just shadows.

And then, from the far side of the cavern, something moved. Something large.

Aric's heart raced as a massive shape emerged from the shadows—a hulking figure, its body made of twisted stone and earth, its eyes glowing with the same ancient magic that had stirred the Sentinels. It was one of them—a guardian of the mountain, ancient and powerful, and it was coming for him.

"You cannot defeat it without me," the crown whispered, its voice now laced with urgency. "You need my power."

Aric took a step back, his mind racing. The guardian moved slowly, deliberately, its massive fists clenched as it advanced toward the altar. He could feel the weight of its presence, the sheer power that radiated from it, and he knew that without the crown's magic, he had no chance of defeating it.

But could he risk it? Could he afford to unleash the crown's power again, knowing what it might do to him?

The guardian growled, the sound echoing through the cavern as it drew closer, its eyes locked on Aric.

He had to make a choice.