The storm above the Whispering Peaks had not relented. For hours, it had raged like a dragon spurned, clawing at the frozen cliffs with howling winds and snow thick enough to obscure the world beyond a few paces. Yet Ais stood unmoved on the jagged cliffside, her cape snapping like a flag behind her, the snow melting into steam as it touched her skin.
Behind her, Eiran shivered in silence, drawing his cloak tighter. "This storm isn't natural," he muttered, teeth chattering.
Ais didn't answer. Her focus was locked on the sheer wall of ice before her—smooth, flawless, except for the faintest shimmer, as if something behind it pulsed in rhythm with her heart. Her breath came slow, fogging the air as she placed a palm against the icy surface. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—like a whisper from another world—a voice murmured her name.
"Ais…"
She jerked back. Eiran stepped forward, alarm in his eyes. "Did you hear that?"
She nodded slowly. "It's here. The Vault of Echoes."
The Vault was more than legend. It was a prison, a sanctum, and a tomb—said to hold secrets that predated even the gods, buried deep beneath the ice by those who feared what knowledge could do when wielded by mortals. Her parents had once spoken of it in hushed tones, before the betrayal, before the fall of the kingdom.
Now, its call had found her.
With a flare of frost and flame, Ais summoned her power. Her right hand glowed with icy blue light, her left flickered with fire. She pressed both against the wall—and the ice responded. Cracks spiderwebbed outward, glowing like veins beneath skin. The wall shattered inward, revealing a narrow tunnel of descending ice stairs.
"Stay close," she ordered.
They stepped into the Vault, the storm silenced behind them like a door shutting the world out. Inside, the temperature dropped impossibly low, yet Ais remained unaffected. The walls shimmered with reflections not their own—visions, memories not yet lived, dreams not yet dreamt.
Eiran kept glancing at the flickering illusions. "This place… it's alive."
"It's more than that," Ais replied. "It's watching."
The deeper they went, the more intense the air became—not heavy, but dense, as if time slowed here, thickened like sap. They passed frozen statues locked in time—warriors from different eras, mages, even beasts. Some wept, their tears frozen midstream.
Eiran stepped close to one. "Is that—?"
"Yes," Ais interrupted. "A guardian. Failed."
He swallowed. "Do we know what's guarding this place?"
"No," she said. "But we're about to find out."
At the bottom of the stairs lay a vast chamber, dome-like and impossibly wide. In its center stood a pedestal of obsidian, upon which floated a shard of crystal, glowing with pale blue light. Around it, ancient runes glowed faintly, etched into the floor like scars.
The moment she stepped forward, the temperature spiked, and the chamber shook.
A shadow rose from the crystal.
It had no face, no body—only a silhouette of shifting blackness, like liquid night given form. Its voice was both everywhere and nowhere.
"You are not the first to seek the truth."
"I am the only one who will survive it," Ais said, her voice calm, commanding.
The shadow pulsed, amused. "So confident… Ice and fire in one vessel. You are an abomination."
"I am balance," she replied coldly. "And I've come for the truth."
"The truth," it repeated. "What will you do when it breaks you?"
Ais stepped onto the runes. Power surged up her legs like lightning, but she held firm. "Let it try."
The crystal's glow intensified, and the runes spun. Images slammed into her mind—memories she had never lived. Her parents, standing before the Council of Thirteen. Her siblings, caged in realms of chaos. The traitors—Elian, Seraphis, even High Warden Mael—kneeling before a dark presence cloaked in golden light.
The true architect of the fall.
A name surfaced: Valek Thorne.
The ancient warlock, long thought dead, whose knowledge of time and soul-weaving had once nearly shattered the world. He had returned, not as a man—but as a force. He had whispered into the ears of the traitors, promised them power, immortality, freedom from fate.
And he had feared only one thing: the union of fire and ice.
Ais.
The vision released her, and she collapsed to one knee. Blood trickled from her nose, steam rising off her skin. Eiran rushed to her, but she raised a hand. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure? Your eyes—Ais, they're glowing."
She stood, trembling. "I saw everything. The true enemy. The real war hasn't even begun."
The shadow loomed again. "You've taken what was forbidden."
"I earned it."
"You will be hunted."
"I already am."
For a moment, the shadow hesitated—then it withdrew. The crystal dimmed, and the runes stilled. The silence that followed was almost deafening.
Then, the ground trembled.
Behind them, the ice stairwell began to crack.
"Run," Ais said.
They raced upward as the Vault collapsed behind them. The spirits of the guardians stirred—some wailing, others laughing. The weight of centuries crumbled as they escaped through the entrance seconds before it sealed shut forever.
Outside, the storm had stopped.
The skies were eerily calm, the sun breaking through the clouds for the first time in days. Ais stood at the edge of the cliff, staring out over the vast expanse below.
Eiran caught his breath. "What did you see?"
She turned to him, her expression unreadable. "I saw the beginning. And I saw the end."
He waited.
She whispered, "Valek Thorne lives. And he's coming."
Later That Night…
They camped in a cave nestled between the cliffs. Eiran slept lightly, sword in hand, but Ais couldn't rest. Her thoughts raced, chasing the phantom images that still danced behind her eyes.
She drew a small mirror from her satchel. Her reflection stared back—same white hair, same silver-blue eyes. But something had changed. There was a depth now. A hunger. A destiny too vast for the world to contain.
From the shadows, a voice spoke.
"You saw him, didn't you?"
Ais didn't flinch. "I thought you left."
A slender figure stepped into the moonlight. Serin—the wandering seer who had aided her once, and vanished just as mysteriously. He looked older now. Tired.
"I had to know," he said, sitting by the fire. "If you were ready."
"And?"
"You're not," he said bluntly. "But you will be."
She stared into the flames. "Valek knew my parents. Manipulated those closest to them. How do I fight something like that?"
Serin's gaze was heavy. "Not alone."
Ais remained silent.
He continued, "You'll need allies. Ones who don't fear the fire or the frost. Ones who believe in something greater than themselves."
"I've trusted before. It cost me everything."
"And if you don't trust again," Serin said softly, "it will cost you the world."
For a long moment, only the crackling of the fire answered. Then Ais said, "Then let them come. Let them test me."
"They will," Serin said, rising. "And they'll test everything you are."
As he vanished into the darkness once more, Ais whispered to the night, "Let them try."