Lahat ng Kabanata ng Fated to Forsake: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 19

The light was gone.The air turned sharp and cold, like the forest itself was holding its breath.I couldn’t see anything, only feel Revan’s arm pushing me back, Jordan’s voice cursing under his breath, and that presence in the dark. It felt like it was breathing the same air I was, slow and steady.“Show yourself,” Revan said. His voice was low, hard.A faint chuckle came from somewhere in front of us. “You sound just like him.”“Like who?” Revan demanded.The answer came closer, almost too close. “Your father.”Revan’s body stiffened. “That’s impossible.”A flicker of red light broke through the dark. Slowly, the shape of a man appeared at the edge of the doorway. His eyes glowed faintly, and his smile looked wrong, like it didn’t belong to a living person.I took a step back. “Who are you?”He turned his head toward me, and the air seemed to shift around him. “You don’t remember me?”My heart skipped. “I’ve never seen you before.”“You have,” he said softly. “You were just too youn

The forest behind us was quiet, but not dead. The ashes still carried heat. Every time the wind changed, it smelled like smoke and iron.Revan walked ahead with his shoulders tight, still limping but pretending he wasn’t. Jordan followed a few steps behind me, eyes always scanning the trees. No one said much. We were too tired, too unsure of what waited ahead.The river ran beside us, pale under the morning light. It whispered against the rocks like it wanted to tell a secret.I broke the silence first. “The creature said the temple would find us. What does that even mean?”Revan didn’t turn. “It means it’s not a place on a map. It’s old magic. It reveals itself only when it wants to.”Jordan muttered, “Convenient.”“It kept the gods hidden for a thousand years,” Revan said. “Convenient is the point.”They started to argue again, soft at first, like they were trying to keep their voices down for me. I ignored them and focused on the sound of the water. It calmed me, even when nothing

When I opened my eyes, everything was quiet.No wind, no river, no sound at all.The air felt thick, heavy, almost liquid. I was lying on smooth stone, cold under my palms. Light moved across the ceiling like it was alive, silver on one side and gold on the other, meeting in the middle.For a moment, I didn’t move. I just listened — to my heartbeat, to the faint echo of another one inside me. The child. It was still there. Still strong.Then I realized I wasn’t alone.Revan knelt beside me, his hand on my shoulder, his face pale. His clothes were torn, and there was dried blood at the edge of his jaw.He whispered, “You’re awake.”I blinked, trying to focus. “Where are we?”“Inside the temple,” he said quietly. “It pulled us under.”I looked around. The chamber was vast, the walls covered in symbols that glowed faintly as if they breathed with the room. The air smelled like rain and old stone.Jordan’s voice came from the other side. “If this is a temple, where’s the door?”“There isn

The air grew colder as we climbed. The tunnel curved up and up until the glow of the underground river disappeared behind us. The sound of our footsteps echoed like whispers through stone.Revan kept hold of my hand as we moved, steadying me when the ground shook beneath us. Jordan walked ahead, blade drawn, every muscle tight. No one spoke for a long time. The silence between us was louder than any words.When we finally saw light again, it didn’t feel real. It shimmered faintly through cracks in the stone ahead, thin and gray.Revan touched my arm. “Stay close.”The tunnel opened into the side of a cliff. Morning light spilled in. For a second I couldn’t see — everything was too bright. Then it came into focus.The valley stretched below us. The ruins we had entered the night before were gone, swallowed by smoke. The air shimmered with dust and ash.And lining the ridge across from us were soldiers.Dozens of them. Maybe more.Their armor glinted in the sunlight. Their banners — bla

The forest above the valley was quiet again. Too quiet. The kind of silence that came after everything had already burned.We had been walking for hours. The air smelled like smoke and pine. Every step felt heavier than the last.Revan led the way, his shirt torn, blood dried across his arm. He hadn’t spoken since sunrise. Jordan followed a few feet behind me, limping slightly, his blade strapped across his back. I stayed between them, half afraid to speak.The child’s heartbeat inside me was steady now, softer, almost peaceful. I wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.When we reached a small clearing, Revan finally stopped. “We rest here.”Jordan dropped his pack and sank onto a fallen log. “You mean you rest here. You’ve been bleeding since dawn.”Revan didn’t look at him. “I’ve bled worse.”“Not lately,” Jordan said.I knelt beside the river that cut through the clearing, rinsing the dirt from my hands. My reflection looked strange in the water — my eyes a little too bright,