All Chapters of The Voice : Chapter 21
- Chapter 30
100 chapters
Shadows Beneath the Light
The light faded slowly, leaving only the echo of its brilliance in the air. Dust drifted through the vast chamber like snow, settling on shattered fragments of crystal and scorched stone.The group lay scattered across the floor, groaning as they tried to rise. The scent of burnt air and ozone hung thick.Lyra was the first to move. “Eryndor?” Her voice cracked as she crawled toward the platform.He was standing perfectly still — too still — in the centre of the room, the faint glow beneath his skin pulsing with each beat of his heart. His eyes shimmered with silver light, but there was something else in them now: a depth that hadn’t been there before.“Eryndor,” she said again, reaching out to him. “Can you hear me?”He turned slowly, his gaze locking onto hers. “I can hear you.” His voice sounded different — layered, like two voices speaking in unison.Zephyr froze. “Gods… what happened to you?”Eryndor blinked, the glow in his eyes dimming slightly. “The Heart… it merged with me. T
The Obsidian Vale
The sun rose behind a veil of grey clouds, painting the horizon in muted gold. The world felt quieter here — as if even the wind feared to speak.Eryndor walked ahead of the group, his cloak drawn tightly against the chill. Each step echoed faintly against the black stones that marked the beginning of the Vale. The air shimmered with faint threads of magic, visible only to those who could sense it. To him, it was a hum beneath the skin — the same hum that now lived within his veins.Lyra caught up to him, her steps light despite the uneven terrain. “You’ve been silent since dawn.”“I’m listening,” Eryndor replied.“To what?”He hesitated. “Everything.”The path wound downward, twisting through jagged cliffs that glittered faintly in the dim light. The rocks themselves seemed alive, reflecting strange, fluid colors that shifted with every heartbeat.Zephyr whistled softly. “Looks like we stepped into another world.”Lirien nodded, her eyes scanning the stone. “This place was once part
Shadows Unbound
The moment the shadows surged through the temple doors, the world erupted into chaos Eryndor thrust his hand forward, the Voice flaring from his palm in a beam of pale light. The wave struck the first wave of dark forms, sending them shrieking into dust. But more came — dozens, maybe hundreds — shapes without faces, armoured in smoke and fire. Lyra loosed a volley of arrows that blazed with blue runes, each one striking its mark. “They just keep coming!” Zephyr’s winds roared down the hall, whipping up a vortex that sent fragments of crystal spinning. “Hold the centre! Don’t let them surround us!” Thorne’s battle cry shook the chamber as his blade cut through two shadowed figures in one swing. “I’ll hold the line!” The air trembled under the clash of light and darkness. For every creature that fell, another rose from the ground, birthed by the shadows themselves. The temple groaned, ancient magic stirring in protest. Eryndor could feel the pull again — that voice within, callin
The Path Echoes
The forest ended where the world forgot itself.They crossed the Vale at dawn, and by noon, the land had begun to die. The sky dulled from blue to iron-gray, the sun’s warmth fading behind clouds that never moved. The air tasted ash and silence. Even the wind seemed to hesitate before blowing through this place.Eryndor led them down a broken trail, the faint pulse of the crystal key in his pocket guiding their steps. It glowed only faintly now, its rhythm matching his heartbeat.“Where are we exactly?” Thorne asked, glancing at the dead trees around them. “Feels like we’ve stepped into a tomb.”Lirien’s tone was grave. “You’re not far off. These are the Shadowlands — the scars left when the Voice first fractured. Few who wander here return unchanged.”Zephyr ran his hand through the stagnant air. “It’s like the world’s holding its breath.”Aria bent beside a stream that trickled black as ink. “Even the water’s dying. How does anything survive here?”“Nothing does,” Lirien said softly
The Ascent
The Hollow Throne was closer now — so close that it seemed to devour the horizon.Its dark spires rose like the ribs of a long-dead god, etched with veins of crimson light that pulsed in rhythm with the ground beneath their feet.The air grew thinner as they climbed, filled with the faint taste of metal and something older — something watching.Eryndor led the way, the crystal key around his neck glowing brighter with every step. The path was steep and fractured, a narrow stairway of stone that twisted upward into mist.No one spoke for a long while. Words felt dangerous here. Even the sound of their breath seemed to echo too loudly, bouncing off the cliffs as if the mountain itself were listening.Finally, Zephyr broke the silence. “We’re walking into the heart of something alive,” he said softly.“It’s not alive,” Lirien replied, her voice strained from the climb. “It’s remembering.”Thorne glanced at her. “Remembering what?”She didn’t answer.---They stopped at a plateau halfway
The Trial of Echoes
The light swallowed him whole.Eryndor stumbled forward, hands outstretched, feeling only warmth and silence.When his eyes adjusted, he realized he stood in a vast expanse of white — no sky, no ground, just endless brilliance stretching in all directions.He turned, searching for his friends, but they were gone.“Lyra?” he called. “Zephyr? Thorne?”No answer. Only the faint echo of his own voice, bending and distorting as though the air itself were listening.Then came the whisper — soft, ancient, almost gentle.“Every voice must face the echoes of what binds them.”The light rippled, and shadows began to form — vague shapes that slowly sharpened into figures. Eryndor’s breath caught in his throat.They were his friends.But not as he remembered them.---Lyra stood before him first, her bow drawn. Her eyes were hollow, her movements mechanical.“Lyra?” he whispered.Her voice was cold. “You should have let me die.”The words struck him like a blade. “What are you talking about?”“Wh
The Dawn Without Voice
The first light of morning broke across the shattered peaks of the Hollow Throne.Mist curled through the air like drifting souls. The wind, once screaming with the power of the storm, was silent — reverent, almost afraid to stir.Lyra stirred first. Her eyes opened to a sky painted gold and crimson, the kind of light that felt wrong after so much darkness. Her limbs trembled as she pushed herself upright, the stone beneath her hands still warm with lingering energy.She looked around, panic building.“Eryndor?”Her voice cracked in the stillness.No answer.Only the soft hum of magic dissipating into the air — the residue of something immense and final.---One by one, the others awoke.Zephyr groaned, clutching his head as though thunder still rang inside his skull. Thorne coughed, pushing debris off his armour. Aria knelt immediately, hands pressed to the earth, her fingers glowing faint green as she felt the pulse of life beneath the ground.“It’s changed,” she whispered. “The ley
The City Beneath the Sea
The ocean stretched before them, endless and alive.From the cliffs of Myrnfall, the group watched as the dawn broke over the water — a pale, silver light that shimmered across the waves like a living thing. The world was calm, almost deceptively so, yet beneath that calmness, power churned.Lyra stood at the edge, the pendant at her neck glowing faintly with blue light. The rhythm pulsed with her heartbeat — slow, insistent, calling.Zephyr adjusted the straps of his gear, squinting into the horizon. “So… does anyone have a plan that doesn’t end with us drowning?”Thorne chuckled dryly. “You’ve got wind magic. Blow us a path.”Zephyr shot him a look. “If I could part the sea, I’d be a god by now.”Aria knelt near the cliff’s edge, her fingers brushing over a patch of sea grass. “The magic here is strong. Old. It’s as if the ocean remembers something.”Lirien, her eyes half-closed, whispered an incantation under her breath. Threads of light spun from her fingertips, tracing patterns i
The Mirror's Echo
Lyra stood alone.The silence of the Temple pressed against her skin like cold glass. All around her, mirrors shimmered with faint blue light — not reflections, but possibilities.Each mirror showed a different version of her: some brave, others broken. Some stood triumphant, wielding light like a blade; others lay lifeless, consumed by darkness.And then there was one — one reflection that stared back with chilling familiarity. It was her, and yet… not.The mirrored Lyra smiled, tilting her head slightly. “You made it,” she said, her voice echoing softly through the chamber.Lyra took a cautious step forward. “What are you?”The reflection chuckled. “I’m you. Or at least… the part you keep pretending doesn’t exist.”Lyra’s heart pounded. “The Echo,” she whispered.The reflection’s smile widened. “You’re catching on.”---Far above, the others were not so lucky.Aria and Zephyr had landed in a separate corridor, one that spiralled downward in a maze of cracked stone and ancient runes.
Ashes of the Tide
The sea spat them out like broken glass.Lyra coughed, dragging herself onto the slick stones of the shore. Salt burned her throat; every breath felt like fire. Around her, the others emerged one by one — Zephyr first, pulling Aria to safety, then Thorne and Lirien, both battered but alive.Behind them, the water churned violently. The ruins of the temple sank into the black depths, swallowed by the ocean as if it had never existed.For a long while, no one spoke.Only the wind moved — sharp, cold, and carrying the faint scent of smoke.Zephyr sat back, panting. “Remind me again why ancient temples always try to kill us?”Thorne gave a rough chuckle, though there was no real humour in it. “Because we keep surviving.”Lirien looked up at the horizon, her eyes narrowing. “That’s not just sea mist. Something’s burning.”They turned — and saw it.The city that stood beyond the cliffs was shrouded in a dark, rising haze. Smoke drifted upward, thick and twisting, as faint flashes of red lig