The path Tarik and Ayna followed twisted like a ribbon, disappearing into a distant haze. The echoes that had once been chaotic began to grow clearer. Each step brought them closer to sounds that became more distinct—voices, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
“Do you hear that?” Tarik asked, glancing around, his face filled with unease.
“Yes,” Ayna replied softly, her eyes clouded as though she were seeing something far away, something painful.
The voices spoke of many things—gentle childhood memories, heavy words of loss, promises and betrayals, dreams and fears. These sounds did not merely fill the air; they permeated the very space around them, resonating with every breath.
Suddenly, a vision appeared before them. Transparent, like morning mist, it showed a young boy. His face was familiar, and Tarik’s breath caught in his throat—it was him. A much younger version of himself, frightened and alone.
“That’s… me,” Tarik whispered, feeling his heart tighten.
The young Tarik stood in the middle of darkness, glancing around as if searching for someone to come to his aid. Then, his trembling voice echoed, filled with pain:
“Why am I always alone?”
Ayna watched the vision, her expression tense. “This is your echo, Tarik. A part of you left behind in the past.”
“But why is it here?” He stepped closer to the vision, but it began to retreat.
“The Realm of Echoes reveals what we’ve buried deep within ourselves,” Ayna explained. “The things we haven’t yet come to terms with.”
“How is this supposed to help us reach the Tree?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration.
“To move forward, you have to accept yourself,” Ayna said, her words both simple and weighty.
Tarik approached the vision, his steps heavy. He looked at the younger version of himself, feeling the pain he had hidden for so long.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m here. We’ve made it through together.”
The vision slowly dissolved, leaving behind an unfamiliar sense of relief. The path ahead grew clearer, as if freed from the surrounding mist.
“That wasn’t easy,” Tarik said as he turned to Ayna.
“And it’s not over yet,” she replied, pointing at a new wave of echoes rising before them. “Now it’s your turn, Ayna.”
Ayna froze in place, her face growing pale. The echoes took shape, forming the face of a woman she knew all too well.
“Mother…” Ayna whispered, her voice trembling.
The path demanded courage and acceptance from both of them. To reach the Tree of Eternity, they had to confront their shadows, fears, and memories—and leave them behind.