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Chapter 81 – Echoes of the Forgotten
The Woundspire's walls seemed to hum, alive with the weight of every forgotten memory. Erevan stood in the heart of it now, the air thick with the power of the unknown, and yet, for all the uncertainty ahead, there was a sense of clarity that grew with each passing moment.
Callen stood before him, the Archivist's eyes deep pools of time's secrets. There was no joy in those eyes, no triumph. Just a hollow acceptance, a quiet understanding of the role he had played for centuries.
"I've watched this world crumble," Callen's voice broke the silence, raw but steady, "and I've watched it rise again. And yet, every time, it's the same song. The same echo."
The rebels stood a few paces behind Erevan, their faces drawn with the strain of the unknown. This wasn't just a battle for survival. This was a battle for the very nature of reality itself. The spire seemed to loom larger as Callen's words filled the air, wrapping around them like a shroud.
"What do you mean?" Erevan asked, stepping forward, his voice steady but filled with the weight of a question that had been pressing on him for too long.
"The Tower isn't just a prison," Callen began, his voice almost a whisper now. "It's a cycle. A loop, a self-sustaining entity. Each time someone rises to break it, to destroy it, something else is born in its place. It has been like this for centuries. For every one who rebels, there is another who replaces them."
Erevan's chest tightened. "So, everything we've been fighting for… it's all futile? Another replacement?"
Callen shook his head slowly. "Not futile. But it is a cycle that must be broken. To truly break the Tower, we must do more than destroy it. We must sever the thread that binds it to the fabric of existence itself."
Erevan looked at Callen, his mind racing. The Codex pulsed gently in his hands, its pages fluttering like the breath of something living. It held answers—answers he had long sought—but the more he discovered, the further the truth seemed to slip away. The more the Tower bled into the space between them.
"What do we need to do?" Erevan asked, his voice quiet but filled with resolve. He had come too far to back down now.
Callen regarded him carefully, his expression unreadable. "The Codex holds the key. But you cannot read it. Not yet." He stepped closer to Erevan, lowering his voice. "The Codex is a mirror. And mirrors reflect what you are, not what you want to be."
Erevan frowned. "What do you mean?"
"The Codex doesn't just reveal the history of the Tower," Callen continued, "it shows the truth. Your truth, Erevan. The one that is buried beneath your memory, the one you've fought to suppress. It will show you the man you were. The man you have to face if you want to free yourself from the cycle."
The weight of those words landed heavily on Erevan's chest, but something inside him—something buried deep—knew that Callen spoke the truth. The Codex had always felt more like a puzzle he was meant to solve, but now he saw that it was something far darker, something that would force him to confront the past he had long buried.
"I can't," Erevan whispered, a chill creeping up his spine. "I've seen parts of it. The rebellion… the destruction… the pain. I can't face it again."
"It's not about facing the past," Callen said, his eyes softening. "It's about understanding it. So that you can choose differently. So that you can finally break the cycle."
Erevan looked down at the Codex in his hands. The edges of its pages glowed softly in the dim light of the Woundspire, beckoning him forward, promising revelations that he wasn't sure he was ready for.
"You're afraid of the truth," Callen observed, as though reading Erevan's thoughts. "But the truth will only be as powerful as you allow it to be. The Tower thrives on lies. It thrives on forgetting. That is why memory is the enemy."
Erevan stood there, the silence stretching between them, the weight of the decision pressing on his chest. There was a part of him that wanted to step back, to run. To find another way. But he knew that no matter where he ran, the truth would follow. It always had.
"Will it destroy me?" Erevan asked quietly, his voice breaking through the silence.
Callen was silent for a long moment before he spoke again, his voice heavy with something that sounded like regret.
"No. But it may change you. And that is a fate that you must be prepared for."
Erevan didn't reply, his gaze fixed on the Codex in his hands. The light from its pages reflected in his eyes, flickering like the final spark of a dying flame. He had always known this moment would come. The truth had been lurking in the shadows, waiting for him to see it. Now, there was no avoiding it.
He stepped forward, towards the center of the Woundspire, where the walls of memory pressed in on all sides. The Codex pulsed with energy, and for a moment, Erevan felt as though the air itself was alive with the weight of the past. It was as if the spire had been waiting for him. Waiting for someone to finally open it.
With a deep breath, Erevan opened the Codex. The pages turned slowly, each one revealing a layer of the Tower's history, a history that had been erased for a reason. The words on the pages began to shift and change, like liquid light, forming and re-forming into patterns he couldn't quite understand.
Then, the words stopped.
And in their place was a single image.
Erevan's own face.
But it wasn't the face he knew. It was the face of a man who had seen too much, a man whose eyes had burned with a fever of rebellion and rage. His own hands—covered in blood, in ash—gripped the spire as though he were trying to tear the very fabric of reality apart.
Erevan stepped back, his breath catching in his throat. This was it. The truth. The man he had been.
"I was… him," Erevan whispered, his voice trembling. "I was the one who destroyed it all."
Callen's voice echoed softly behind him. "You were. And you will be again. But now you have a choice. The question is not whether you can destroy the Tower. The question is whether you can break free from it."
Erevan turned to face Callen, the weight of the decision heavy in his chest. He had always been defined by his choices, by the battles he had fought and the wars he had waged. But now, it was no longer about the war outside. It was about the war inside. And for the first time in a long time, Erevan didn't know what to choose.
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Author's Note:
In Chapter 81, Erevan is forced to confront a truth he has avoided for so long. The Codex reveals not just the history of the Tower, but the history of Erevan himself. The battle within him is just as fierce as the one against the Tower. What will he choose now? And what does this truth mean for the future of the rebellion?
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– Dorian Blackthorn
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