The collapsing echo of the Gate realm faded behind Jason, leaving behind a trail of smoldering magic that flickered briefly in the wind. He emerged into the real world changed — not just in power, but in purpose. His body still hummed with energy from the Codex, his arms laced with glowing runes that pulsed like a second heartbeat.
Elias stepped beside him, adjusting the folds of his long, bark-colored robe. "The Codex chose you. But that power will draw others… those who believe it still belongs to them."
Kaelith looked up toward the storm-clouded sky. "They're already watching."
Jason frowned. "Who?"
Elias and Kaelith exchanged glances.
"The Remnants," Kaelith said softly. "Guardians who abandoned their oaths. Followers of the Forgotten One. The Codex is their beacon now."
Jason didn't flinch. "Let them come."
But Elias placed a hand on his shoulder. "Before the next battle, you must know who you are... and who you were."
They made camp that night under the tall shadows of stone pillars buried in moss. Jason couldn't sleep. His dreams were chaotic—visions of war-torn skies, a kingdom crumbling beneath shadow beasts, and a voice calling to him from beyond a gate of golden flame.
Jason… come find me…
He woke with a gasp.
Leah was sitting by the fire, awake. Her face was pale, her eyes distant.
"You saw it too?" Jason asked.
She nodded slowly. "There's something inside me now. Since that temple. I can feel it, Jason. It's like… part of your bloodline awakened mine."
Jason sat beside her. "We've been connected from the start. Maybe it's not a coincidence."
Before either could speak more, Elias called them.
"I found something," he said, holding up a piece of crumbling parchment. It shimmered with the same runes that were etched into Jason's arms.
"It's a Writ of Sealing, signed by your father."
Jason's breath caught.
The parchment showed a map.
A valley deep within the northern mountains — The Vale of Echoes. Next to it, a symbol: a hand holding a burning key.
"That's the sigil of House Vel'Rath," Kaelith said darkly. "Your true name."
Jason stood slowly. "Then that's where we go."
—
The journey was long. The air grew colder as they approached the mountains, and the trees thinned until only twisted, bone-white trunks remained.
On the seventh night, they reached the edge of the Vale of Echoes.
A low, ghostly wind whispered through the valley. The cliffs were shaped like screaming faces, and the river flowed backward.
Jason stepped forward and felt it — the ground vibrated with memory. Magic woven into time itself.
Leah hesitated. "Are you sure this is safe?"
Kaelith unsheathed her curved blade. "Nothing here is safe."
Suddenly — the air shattered like glass.
Figures emerged from the fog.
Armored warriors with no faces. Their skin made of stone, their weapons glowing with forgotten fire.
"The Sentinels of Silence," Elias said grimly. "Protectors of the Vale."
The lead Sentinel raised its sword and spoke without a mouth: "Only blood may pass."
Jason raised his hand, letting his runes show.
The Sentinels bowed.
And stepped aside.
They passed through.
—
In the heart of the Vale stood an ancient fortress—overgrown and ruined, but still echoing with power. Inside, they found the remnants of House Vel'Rath.
Portraits burned by time. Armor cracked and broken. A throne room lit by dying embers.
And on the far wall—a massive door.
Its surface bore the mark of Jason's arm.
The second Gate.
Elias whispered, "This one leads not to memory… but to the forgotten future."
Kaelith drew in a breath. "No one has opened this gate in centuries."
Jason stepped forward, hands glowing. "Then let history remember that I did."
He pressed his palm to the seal.
The door burst open.
Beyond it was no ordinary chamber.
It was a sky made of mirrors.
Floating islands. Rivers of glowing threads. Memories drifting in mist like forgotten dreams.
At the center was a tall obelisk, pulsing.
A figure stood at its base.
Jason's heart stopped.
It was a man.
Wearing old armor. Scarred. Strong.
And he turned to face Jason.
"…Father?"
The man's eyes shimmered. "You came."
Jason ran forward, but stopped short as he realized—his father wasn't fully alive.
A memory. A remnant. A message left behind.
"You bear the fire," the image said. "But it's only the beginning. The final gate—the Gate of Thrones—was sealed by me… but it is weakening."
Jason whispered, "Then what do I do?"
"Find the Three Anchors. Awaken the Scepter of Flame. Only then can you challenge the Forgotten One."
The image faded.
Leah placed a hand on Jason's arm. "You're not alone anymore."
Jason stared into the sky of mirrors.
He saw himself—surrounded by friends, enemies, battles, and flame.
His story was only beginning.
And the war had found its true heir.