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

Chapter 13: Through the Veil

The passage ahead was narrow and dark, the air thick with the weight of ancient magic. Aric could feel it pulsing through the stone walls, a quiet hum that seemed to resonate with the Obsidian Crown resting on his head. The whispers had faded, the crown's presence quieter now, as if it was watching, waiting for his next move.

Behind him, the Guardian stood still, its massive form now just a shadow in the dim light. It had judged him worthy, but Aric knew the true test lay ahead. He had to reach the Seeker stronghold, to uncover the knowledge hidden there before Tavar could catch up. The path forward was unclear, but Aric felt something stirring within him—a growing sense of resolve that pushed back the fear.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the passage.

The tunnel stretched deep into the mountain, the walls narrowing as it twisted and turned. The only light came from the faint glow of runes etched into the stone, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. Aric's heart pounded in his chest, the weight of the crown ever-present on his brow, but for the first time, it felt manageable—like an extension of himself rather than a force trying to consume him.

As he walked, he thought about Alistair. The Seeker had always been there, guiding him, protecting him, but now they were separated. Aric had to find his way forward on his own. The thought of being alone, without Alistair's wisdom, gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside. He couldn't afford to lose focus. Not now.

Suddenly, the air in the tunnel shifted, a cold breeze sweeping through the narrow space. Aric stopped, his senses on high alert. There was something ahead—something different. He could feel the magic thickening, growing more intense, more unpredictable.

"I am with you," the crown whispered, its voice faint but steady. "You are not alone."

Aric gritted his teeth, pushing the crown's voice to the back of his mind. He didn't trust it, not completely. The power it offered was tempting, but he had to control it, not let it control him.

He pressed on, the tunnel growing colder, darker. The walls were smoother here, as if carved by some ancient force, and the runes etched into the stone glowed brighter, the magic radiating from them almost palpable. Aric's breath came in shallow gasps, the air thin and cold. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of the crown pressing down on him.

And then, without warning, the tunnel opened up into a vast, circular chamber.

The ceiling was impossibly high, disappearing into the darkness above, and in the center of the room stood a towering stone archway, its surface covered in intricate runes that shimmered with faint light. The archway seemed ancient, older than the mountain itself, and the magic radiating from it was unlike anything Aric had ever felt before.

He stepped closer, his heart racing. The air around the archway hummed with power, and as he approached, he could feel the crown reacting to it, the dark energy within it stirring. The runes on the archway pulsed in time with the crown's magic, as if they were connected somehow, bound by the same ancient force.

Aric stopped in front of the archway, his eyes tracing the intricate patterns carved into the stone. There was something familiar about it, something that tugged at the edges of his memory, but he couldn't place it. The crown's whispers had fallen silent, as if it, too, was waiting.

"This is the Veil," a voice suddenly echoed through the chamber, deep and resonant.

Aric whirled around, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his dagger, but there was no one there. The chamber was empty, save for the stone archway and the faint glow of the runes. The voice had come from nowhere—and everywhere.