章 13: The Whisper pt.5
Kyrntar, bewildered, turned his gaze between his two companions, the revelation of the moment crashing down on him. His mind raced, trying to grasp why this darkness hadn't touched him, why it was tearing apart the people he trusted, but leaving him unscathed. "What is this?" he muttered under his breath, his eyes darting around the suffocating shadows. His desperation bubbled up, barely contained.
"Stay with me!" he barked, his command cracking, desperate. But inside, doubt gnawed at him. Why haven't I felt it? Why isn't it attacking me?
The temple itself seemed to pulse with malevolence, its walls now breathing, its ancient stones hissing secrets Kyrntar couldn't hear. Every creak, every shift in the darkness made his heart race faster, made his grip on his sword falter. He was a leader, but right now, he was a man lost in a nightmare he didn't understand.
Suddenly, Edric collapsed to his knees, a guttural scream tearing from his throat. The sound echoed through the stone chamber, bouncing off the walls and seeping deep into their bones. His body trembled violently, his hands ripping at his head as if he could tear the creature from his skull. "It's in my head! I can't— I can't—"
The storm in his mind roared now, overpowering everything else. You belong to it. There is no escape.
Sweat poured down his face, his skin ghostly pale, his chest rising and falling in frantic, shallow breaths. He could feel it pulling him under, dragging him down into the abyss. "Please…" His begging broke, barely audible through the agony. "Make it stop…"
Kyrntar closed his eyes, trying to shut out the oppressive force of the temple around him. The air was thick, suffocating, as if the very stones were watching, waiting. His breath came slow, measured, though his heart hammered in his chest. He let the silence stretch, reaching deep within himself, grasping for the familiar warmth of his divine power. The moment he called upon it, the world shifted.
It hit him like a physical force—a wave of darkness that slammed into his senses, leaving him momentarily gasping for breath. There was something here, something old and hungry. His skin crawled, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as the malevolent presence pressed against him, seeping through the cracks in the stone, the chilling floor beneath his feet, even the air itself. It was as though the temple was alive, its walls breathing, exhaling a darkness that had been festering for centuries.
A chill ran down his spine, colder than the bite of steel on a winter morning. But it wasn't just freeze—it was wrong, a bone-deep wrongness that twisted the very fabric of the place. His Divine Sense flared, and the sensation of evil roared to life, gnawing at his mind. It was overwhelming, suffocating, and for a moment, Kyrntar felt a stab of desperation—this thing, whatever it is, was older than time, older than memory.
The presence was almost unbearable, like an oily film that coated everything it touched. It clung to the walls, oozed from the cracks in the floor, and wrapped itself around Edric and Marra like a living thing. His companions were trapped in its grasp, their faces tight with fear and pain, their movements sluggish and strained as if the dark force was sapping the life from them.
But him? It slid over Kyrntar without latching on. The darkness recoiled, shifting around him, as if it found him unworthy, or worse, indifferent. Why wasn't it attacking him? The question rattled in his mind, growing louder with each heartbeat.
He opened his eyes and saw Edric stumbling, his eyes wide, glassy with pain. Marra's lips were moving in silent prayer, her face pale, her body shaking as if some invisible hand was gripping her soul. The air around them felt thick with malevolent intent, pressing down on them, wrapping around their limbs like invisible chains.
Kyrntar's fists clenched, his sword heavy in his hand. The Divine Sense told him the truth—the evil wasn't just here, it was feeding, feeding off of Edric and Marra, but leaving him untouched. Why? He couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something, that there was a piece of the puzzle just out of reach.
The walls seemed to pulse now, faint but rhythmic, like the slow, steady breathing of something enormous, hidden deep in the stone. The sound was almost imperceptible, a low hum just beneath the edge of hearing, but it crawled into his ears, sank into his bones.
Boom… boom… boom…
The temple was alive.
He stepped back, his head spinning. The medallion—they had found it earlier, glittering coldly in the dim light. Its surface had shimmered like oil on water, almost beautiful in its wrongness. That's where the evil was coming from—it had to be. But that didn't explain why it was ignoring him. Why Edric and Marra were caught in its grip, fighting for their sanity, and yet he stood there, untouched, like a ghost passing through a nightmare.
He glanced at Marra, saw the fear twisting her face. She was muttering prayers now, faster, more frantic, but it wasn't helping. Nothing was helping.
Edric moaned, a sweat dripped down his face, his breath coming in sharp, panicked bursts. "Kyrntar," he gasped, "it's— it's in my head… it won't stop…" His voice cracked, his words slurring as the evil burrowed deeper.
Kyrntar's stomach twisted in knots. He could feel the fear rising in him, creeping up his throat like bile. He wasn't sure what terrified him more—the fact that this ancient thing was toying with his friends, or the gnawing realization that whatever it was, it wanted something from them.
But not from him.
He couldn't help them. Not yet.
His gaze flicked toward the shadows at the far end of the hall, deeper into the temple's bowels. The source of the darkness was there, somewhere out of sight, waiting, watching. He felt its gaze on him, evil and indifferent. It knows.
It was watching him, too.
Kyrntar stumbled forward, his eyes wide with shock, his bravado strained and trembling as he spoke. "It's here," he gasped, his breath catching in his throat. "Some... thing, some ancient evil—it's tied to this place. I— I don't understand, but it's ignoring me." He glanced between Edric and Marra, his heart hammering in his chest, horror creeping into his words. "It's focused on you—both of you."
His hands clenched around the hilt of his sword, knuckles white, as he took a shaky step closer to them. "Why isn't it attacking me?" His question dropped to a near-whisper, the pressure of his confusion and helplessness pressing down on him like a heavy fog. "Why only you?"
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