Chapter 48: Siron Sees the True Form

The white explosion wasn’t a sound; it was a total annihilation of the senses. Siron was hurled into a void weightless, tasteless, nothing but a consciousness drifting among the debris of a collapsing reality. The scream of three voices, his own, Morat’s, and Alaric’s, braided into a single, elongated shriek that was eventually muffled into static hiss.

Then, there was light.

Not a blinding glare, but a dim glow like dawn breaking through mist. Siron felt himself standing in a place that was strange yet felt ancient. Surrounding him was a dense forest of towering trees, beneath a purplish sky where two moons hung low. The air felt denser here, heavy with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers.

Where…?

Moments ago, he was in the crumbling temple corridor. Now, this was somewhere completely different. He looked down at himself, or at least, his consciousness, and saw hands and feet, but they were translucent, like a ghost.

And then, he saw them.

In a clearing in the middle of the fores