The world that unfolded before Melania was entirely different. The ink-black darkness surrounding her was neither emptiness nor mere shadow. It was something alive, breathing and trembling, as if the very fabric of reality held its breath. Her footsteps echoed across an invisible surface, yet she felt neither solidity nor weight beneath her.
Around her, images began to form, slowly unfolding like memories gaining shape. Here stood an old tower with peeling walls, entwined with ivy; there, a small pond shimmered as if filled with liquid silver. But these images distorted and dissolved, leaving only shadows that merged with the darkness.
Melania stopped, listening to the deep, low hum emanating from the very core of this place. She took another step forward when, suddenly, a narrow path appeared before her. It was paved with black stone that seemed alive—pulsing faintly with a glow reminiscent of a heartbeat.
— “Tread carefully,” a voice echoed, soft and almost gentle, yet tinged with a resonance that made her shiver.
Melania raised her eyes to see a figure emerging from the gloom. Tall and slender, it was cloaked in a robe that shimmered with the hues of night, shifting from deep blue to violet. Its face was hidden in shadow, and only long, elegant fingers extended from the robe, reaching forward as if beckoning her.
— “Who are you?” she asked, clenching her fists, ready for any danger.
— “I am the one who will guard your path,” the figure replied, its voice seeming both near and distant. — “You have entered the Heart of the Gloom. Here, you will find answers, but every step you take will demand a price.”
— “I am ready,” Melania said firmly.
The figure vanished as abruptly as it had appeared, but the path ahead began to glow slightly brighter, as if urging her onward.
Melania moved forward, feeling the darkness grow denser with every step. She was not alone—outlines emerged from the shadows, hovering at the edge of her vision. She felt their gazes upon her, heard their whispers.
— “She has come…”
— “What does she seek?”
— “Will she have the strength?”
She did not reply. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the road stretching ahead.
Soon, she came to a crossroads. Each path bore a distinct symbol etched into the stone. To the left was a key, to the right, an hourglass, and in the center, a circle with threads woven together like a web.
— “Choose,” the voice commanded, now sterner. — “The key will open doors but reveal no truths. The hourglass will show how little time remains but offer no answers. And the web…”
— “What about the web?” she interrupted, glancing at the symbol.
— ”…will bind you to what you fear to touch. To the heart of your destiny.”
She closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment of hesitation. Her breathing steadied, her mind cleared. She knew this choice was important but not final. Taking a step forward, she chose the central path.
The stones beneath her feet began to glow more brightly, but the air around her grew colder, almost icy. She felt the walls of darkness closing in.
— “Your choice is a thread in the web,” the voice said, now closer, warmer. — “Look and remember.”
The space before her opened, and she found herself on a battlefield. The ground was littered with broken swords and torn banners. The wind bit with cold, carrying the scent of metal and ash. She saw herself in the midst of the chaos—holding a sword, her eyes filled with determination and pain.
— “Is this who I will become?” she asked, watching herself in horror.
— “This is but one possibility,” the voice replied. — “But every battle leaves a mark.”
Melania summoned her courage and forced herself to keep watching. The scene shifted: now she stood in a circle of light, surrounded by faces of those she had saved. Their gazes were filled with gratitude but also sorrow, as if each of them had made a sacrifice for her victory.
— “Do I want this?” she whispered.
— “You need not want it. But you must be prepared to accept it.”
The light faded, and Melania found herself back on the path. Her heart pounded, but her resolve did not waver.
— “What comes next?”
— “Next, you will draw closer to the truth. But remember: every step deeper is a trial of your soul’s strength. And not everyone returns from the Heart of the Gloom.”
Melania straightened, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. Her eyes gleamed with determination.
— “I will return. And I will find the answers.”
The path ahead unfurled, glowing more brightly, and she stepped deeper into the Gloom, ready to face whatever lay ahead.