Gabe trudged forward, his steps heavy yet resolute as he carried Professor Mackenzie’s lifeless body. The professor was wrapped in a shroud of plain white cloth, now marred by dark, seeping stains of blood. Each step Gabe took was measured and reverent, the weight of the man who had been their guide and mentor pressing down on his shoulders.
It was late at night when they arrived at the Oasis Cavern. The sky above was a canvas of deep indigo, illuminated by six moons that cast a pale, haunting glow over the landscape. The cavern lay nestled within a vast oasis, an expanse of water and greenery that seemed almost out of place in the surrounding desert’s desolation. Yet even this oasis, usually a symbol of life and respite, felt subdued and sorrowful under the weight of their grief.
The palm trees stood tall and silent, their fronds rustling gently in the cool night breeze. The water of the oasis reflected the moonlight in muted ripples, a quiet witness to the somber procession. The entrance to the Oasis Cavern was carved into a rocky outcrop, its large, arched opening both inviting and foreboding in the dim light.
As they approached, the Mal’aks of the Oasis Cavern emerged to meet them, their expressions solemn. A tall figure who appeared to be the leader stepped forward, his presence commanding yet respectful. He and Enn’ary exchanged words in the melodic language of the Mal’aks, their tones grave and deliberate.
Enn’ary’s gestures conveyed the gravity of their situation, his eyes glancing back at Professor Mackenzie’s shrouded form. The leader of the Oasis Cavern Mal’aks nodded slowly, his gaze following Enn’ary’s, then turned to his people, giving a series of quiet instructions. The discussion was brief but intense, every movement and expression steeped in the shared sorrow and respect for the fallen professor.
The Mal’aks moved forward, their movements fluid and respectful, as they gently took Professor Mackenzie’s body from Gabe’s arms. The weight of their loss was palpable in the air, mirrored in the solemn expressions of the Mal’aks as they carried the shrouded form into the Oasis Cavern.
The leader of the Oasis Cavern Mal’aks led them deeper into the cavern, through winding passages illuminated by softly glowing crystals embedded in the walls. The path opened into a larger chamber, a vast room where the air felt cooler and the silence more profound.
In the center of the room stood a massive round stone table. Around the table, four Mal’aks sat waiting. They recognized one of them immediately—S’jarre, the leader of the Skyward Cavern, his presence as commanding and serene as ever.
The other three Mal’aks each had striking features that set them apart. One had hair as white as freshly fallen snow, cascading down in a cascade of silken strands that caught the light from the crystals. Another’s hair was a vibrant green, reminiscent of lush, verdant forests, his eyes reflecting the deep, rich hues of ancient trees. The last had fiery red hair that seemed to shimmer like molten lava, his stance exuding a warmth and intensity that was palpable even in the cool air of the chamber.
The leader of the Oasis Cavern Mal’aks exchanged words with the others, their conversation a low murmur in the melodic Mal’ak language. Jazz and the rest of the group stood silently, absorbing the gravity of the moment and the presence of these formidable beings, each representing a different aspect of their world.
Enn’ary gestured toward Jazz and his group. “Let me introduce you to Jazz, Keilee, Leeland, and Gabe,” he said, and the group bowed their heads in respect.
Turning toward the gathered Mal’aks, Enn’ary continued, “This is D’raen, the leader of the Oasis Cavern community where you are now.” He motioned to the others. “You are already familiar with S’jarre from Skyward Cavern. The one with the white hair is Ith’iel, from the Frostpeak Cavern. This is Syl’arn, leader of the Whisperwood Cavern, and Zar’iel, who leads the Emberfall Cavern.” He glanced at the group with a small nod. “And of course, you know me. I hail from the Waterfall Cavern. All of us can speak your language, so feel free to speak freely with us.”
“We sincerely apologize for what we did in Skyward Cavern, S’jarre,” Keilee said. “We acted thinking it was what our teacher would have wanted. But everything went wrong, and it led to his death.”
“Enn’ary has already explained the situation to us,” S’jarre replied. “I understand the reasons behind your actions, and I am saddened by your mentor’s passing.”
“We will preserve the body of your mentor so you can give him a proper burial on Earth,” D’raen said. “But right now, the more pressing issue is the breach in the border of the Negative Harmony.”
“The three humans we captured do not want to speak,” D’raen continued. “Can you tell us about the one who entered the Negative Harmony?”
“We call them the Rogue Resonants,” Leeland replied. “We do not know their actual intentions, but one thing is certain: their minds are clouded.”
“The breach is very small,” Zar’iel interjected. “And Mal’aks from Oasis Cavern have gathered there to secure the border. I am quite sure At’tar won’t risk crossing over unless the breach is larger.”
“We have the Resonance Key,” Enn’ary said as he placed the golden tuning fork on the stone table and pushed it to the center. “The one who entered the Negative Harmony is their teacher’s son. I’m not sure why he left the Resonance Key behind. But as Leeland mentioned, their minds are clouded. Something about his father’s death might have confused him, causing him to forget the Resonance Key.”
“Is there a way to restore the breach?” Gabe asked.
“No, only Al’aric could,” Syl’arn replied. “Let’s hope he intervenes.”
“Al’aric, he’s the one you call the ruler of all, right?” Leeland chimed in. “Why isn’t he intervening now?”
Syl’arn smiled and replied, “All the inhabitants of Eternal Resonance are accounted as nothing. He does according to his will, and none can hold back his hand or say to him, ‘What have you done?’”
Syl’arn leaned forward and studied the faces of Jazz and the group. “The four of you, what are your plans?” he asked.
The group glanced at each other, their eyes asking silent questions. None of them had spoken on the way to the Oasis Cavern, each lost in their own thoughts, unsure of what the others were thinking.
Jazz was the first to break the silence. “I honestly don't know what to do now,” he admitted.
Keilee’s face shifted, a mix of anger and sadness. “If you want honesty, I would say I am planning to get revenge.”
“I am with Keilee. How could Kenzie do that to his father...” Gabe chimed in, his voice trembling. Tears started to fall, but he quickly wiped them away.
Leeland looked at Gabe and Keilee, his expression stern. “Do you hear yourselves? Do you think that’s what Professor Mackenzie would want? Have you forgotten why we secretly followed the Professor? Because we wanted to help him save his son.”
“I know Professor Mackenzie did his best to rescue his son.” Leeland continued. “In some ways, I know he succeeded. That’s why we have the Resonance Key back.”
Gabe and Keilee lowered their faces, their eyes filled with the weight of Leeland’s words. Slowly, they both nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the truth sinking in.
“Let’s give them time to clear their minds,” Enn’ary interjected. “For now, let’s focus on securing the border and pray that At’tar doesn’t cross it.”
* * *
Kenzie had been wandering through the chaotic, shifting void of the Negative Harmony for hours, though time felt irrelevant in this twisted realm. His steps were aimless, his thoughts a constant storm of conflicting emotions. The death of his father—his mind’s sole fixation—fought with the pull of his original mission. He was supposed to deliver the Resonance Key to At’tar. That was his purpose, wasn’t it? He had to follow through, to honor the pact, to give At’tar what he desired.
But then there was the haunting image of his father—Professor Mackenzie—his final moments flashing through Kenzie’s mind. His father’s face, filled with a mix of determination and sorrow, seemed to follow him, tormenting him with the memory of the confrontation that led to his death. His father had failed him, hadn’t he? He deserves death.
He stumbled, his legs weak from the exhaustion of his internal battle. There was no peace here, not in this place, not in his mind. He stopped, leaning against a huge rock. His eyes dropped to his hand. The dried blood that clung to his palm made him flinch. It had been his father’s blood. The blood of the one person who had tried to save him from the path he had chosen. Kenzie could still feel the warmth of it, the way his father’s life had drained away in that final moment. The very blood that had spilled now stained his skin.
His breath hitched. He stared at the blood, his heart pounding in his chest. I killed him… The thought echoed in his mind, suffocating him. But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? It wasn’t just him. Something dark lurked inside his heart pushed him to this point, who had clouded his judgment. But Kenzie was the one who had made the choice, the one who had taken the actions that led to this.
Kenzie continued to walk through the endless, disorienting expanse of the Negative Harmony, his mind in turmoil. The memory of his father’s death was like an ever-present shadow, one that flickered in his mind and twisted his every emotion. The darkness inside him whispered, a voice foreign yet all too familiar, like a seed that had been planted long ago, slowly growing into something far more sinister.
“Your father deserved it”, the voice seemed to hiss in the back of his mind, its tone cold and distant. “He failed you, Kenzie. He never understood you. He never listened.”
Kenzie’s pulse quickened, his hand shaking as he pressed it to his chest, as if trying to stop the flood of emotions that surged through him. The voice seemed to laugh, a low, mocking sound that echoed through the empty space around him.
“He wasn’t the one you should have trusted”, the darkness crooned. “At’tar is the only one who sees your true potential. He is the one who could have shown you the way. Your father just held you back with his pathetic ideals.”
Kenzie closed his eyes, a sense of detachment settling over him. The battle between his confusion and the seductive pull of the darkness was ongoing, but now, it felt like it was starting to tip in favor of the shadows. He had never been free. Not truly. But now… now, it felt like the world was opening up to him, like he was on the verge of something much bigger than himself. And his father? The memory of his father’s death didn’t feel like a wound anymore. It felt like a release.
The darkness inside him whispered again, as though urging him to embrace it fully. “Let go, Kenzie. Your father was weak. But you... you are strong. At’tar the Light-Bringer will show you the way.”
As Kenzie stood there, his mind swirling in a chaotic mix of confusion and darkness, his gaze shifted. Through the haze of the Negative Harmony, something caught his eye. At first, it was barely a shift in the shadows, a flicker in the distance. But as his attention sharpened, the shape became clearer—a massive army, a sea of dark figures marching in unison.
The ground beneath his feet trembled with each step they took, their movements synchronized like a well-rehearsed march. Kenzie’s breath hitched as the size of the army became evident. They were countless, stretching as far as the eye could see. Cloaked in black, their forms were indistinct, like shadows themselves—mere silhouettes against the dim, oppressive light of the Negative Harmony.
For a moment, Kenzie was frozen, the sight of this vast, dark army almost overwhelming. His pulse quickened, his mind scrambling to make sense of it. “Who are they?” he wondered, his thoughts racing. “What is this army?”
But even as he asked himself the question, a part of him, deep inside, already knew. These were the followers of At’tar—the ones who would rise to do his bidding, the ones who would bring about the chaos and destruction At’tar had promised.
Kenzie’s legs propelled him forward, driven by the overwhelming darkness inside him. His heart pounded in his chest, his breath quickened as he ran towards the advancing army. The sight of them, their relentless march, only fueled the fire burning within him. He had made it this far—he had found them. He had found At’tar.
As he drew nearer to the front, the soldiers of the dark army raised their weapons in unison. Arrows glowed with a dark, ominous purple light, their sharp tips aimed directly at Kenzie. The tension in the air thickened, the sound of the marching army suddenly became silent as if all eyes were on him.
But Kenzie did not falter. He stopped just in front of the front rank, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He held his ground, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over him. His voice rang out across the space between him and the army, bold and defiant.
“Light-Bringer!” he shouted, his voice echoing into the vast, desolate expanse. “I’m finally here! I’ve completed your purpose!”
For a moment, everything was still. The silence stretched, heavy with anticipation. The army did not move, their arrows aimed at him.
Then, as if answering his call, the ranks parted. From the center of the dark force, each side shifted, the soldiers making way for something—or someone—important. The path cleared, and Kenzie’s heart skipped a beat.
From the darkness, a figure emerged. A presence that commanded the very air around him. There was no mistaking it. He knew this was At’tar.
But as the figure stepped into the dim light, something was off. The face that emerged from the shadows was undeniably familiar—but not right. At first glance, it looked like the At’tar Kenzie remembered, the one he had seen before. Yet, the differences were striking.
At’tar’s hair, once golden like the sun, was now stark white, as if drained of all color. His skin, fair and radiant, was now dark-gray, the color of charcoal, giving him a spectral, unsettling appearance. But even so, Kenzie could recognize those piercing green eyes—burning with power—and the presence that seemed to bend the very atmosphere around him.
The armor At’tar wore gleamed, a dark and polished metal that looked as if it had been forged in the heart of the Negative Harmony itself. A long, flowing cape billowed behind him, the edges moving as if caught in a wind that didn’t exist. There was no mistaking the intensity in the way he moved—every step he took radiated authority and fear.
Kenzie dropped to one knee before At’tar, the weight of the moment sinking in. He bowed his head, showing his respect to the Light-Bringer, the one who had called him here.
“I am honored to meet you again, At’tar,” Kenzie said, his voice trembling slightly, though he tried to mask it with determination.
“Well done, Kenzie,” At’tar said, his voice smooth and cold, like the calm before a storm. “Now hand me the Resonance Key.”
The words cut through Kenzie’s chest like a blade. A sharp, agonizing pain pulsed in his heart, and a tremor ran through him. The Resonance Key. He had left it with his father.
His mind scrambled, memories of his father, his death, the promises he had made, all swirling in confusion. He looked up at the Light-Bringer, forcing himself to meet his gaze, even as fear and uncertainty gnawed at him.
“We don’t need the Resonance Key,” Kenzie said, his voice shaky but firm. “I already created the breach. We can cross now.”
As soon as the words left his lips, the air seemed to shift—heavy, oppressive, like the world itself was holding its breath. Before Kenzie could even process what was happening, a force like a thunderclap slammed into his chest. His body was flung backward, the air knocked from his lungs in a brutal rush. He felt himself fly through the air, helpless and disoriented, his arms flailing as his vision blurred. The ground rushed up to meet him. His head collided with something hard, a jarring shock that sent a ripple of pain through his skull. The world spun around him.
He gasped, choking on the air that he couldn’t seem to catch. The impact had stolen the breath from his body, leaving him gasping, his chest constricting painfully.
At’tar’s voice cut through the haze in Kenzie’s mind, cold and menacing.
“Foolish. You think you can play with forces you don’t understand?”
Kenzie tried to push himself up, but his body refused to cooperate, the shock of the blow still reverberating through every inch of him. His breath was ragged, each inhale feeling like shards of glass scraping against his lungs. He fought to keep his vision steady, but the dizziness made it impossible to focus. All he could hear was the mocking echo of At’tar’s voice as the dark figure loomed above him.
At’tar’s hand shot out, fast as a lightning strike, seizing Kenzie by the neck. A cold, suffocating pressure clamped around his throat, lifting him from the ground with ease. His feet dangled uselessly, barely grazing the earth. His eyes locked with At’tar’s, and Kenzie felt a wave of terror sweep through him, raw and uncontrollable. The Light-Bringer’s eyes glowed with a malevolent green, piercing into Kenzie’s soul. He could feel the weight of death hovering just beyond his reach, a fate he could no longer escape.
At’tar’s voice, cold and final, echoed in his ears. “You are of no use to me now,” he said, his words like a death sentence.
A dark purple sword materialized in the air beside At’tar, its blade swirling with an ominous glow. At’tar’s right hand moved slowly, deliberately, to grasp the hilt of the weapon. The sword hummed with dark energy, ready to end him.
Kenzie’s heart hammered in his chest, knowing that this was his end. There was no escape, no second chance. The finality of it overwhelmed him. In an instinctive, futile attempt to resist, he closed his eyes, bracing for the blow.
But then, something shifted.
He felt a sudden force, and the pressure around his neck suddenly vanished. He fell—no longer held aloft, but crashing toward the ground. A strange force had intervened, pushing At’tar away, as though the universe itself had rejected the Light-Bringer’s will.
Kenzie’s body slammed into the earth, his breath whooshed out of him as he hit the ground hard, but the impact was nothing compared to the terror that had been gripping his heart moments before.
When he opened his eyes, he saw something that stopped his breath cold.
At’tar, the mighty Light-Bringer, was lying on the ground a short distance away. The dark figure that had once seemed invincible was now thrown back, crumpled on the ground in a heap of powerlessness. The sword he had been preparing to strike with lay discarded beside him, as if even it had rejected its master’s control.
And standing beside Kenzie, casting a presence so vast and undeniable that it seemed to reverberate in the very air, was someone new.
The figure was imposing, yet serene. Even the mere feet of the person exuded an aura of majesty and power. It was like the weight of eternity itself hung in the air around them, and Kenzie could feel the presence radiating from them like a beacon.
Kenzie slowly lifted his gaze, his body trembling as he tried to make sense of the overwhelming force that had just intervened. There, standing beside him, was a figure unlike any he had ever seen.
A middle-aged man, tall, radiating an aura of quiet majesty. His face carried an ethereal beauty, symmetrical and timeless, with a sharp jawline and high cheekbones adorned with a neatly trimmed beard. His skin shimmered faintly, a pale light emanating from within as though he were made of starlight. His hair, long and silver-white, seemed to ripple with energy, flowing like liquid moonbeams, and it framed his face in an almost ethereal way. The faintest glow surrounded him, as if the very air bent to his presence.
He wore regal robes and armor, a mix of deep blues and gold, combining the opulence of royalty with the durability of a warrior.
But it was his blue eyes that caught Kenzie’s attention the most—piercing yet warm. They held the weight of centuries, a depth that suggested they had witnessed the rise and fall of worlds. But in them, Kenzie also saw something unexpected—a flicker of sorrow, a quiet sympathy that seemed to reach out to him from across the vast gulf between them. His eyes were gentle, but they were also strong, filled with the unspoken understanding of all the pain and turmoil Kenzie had endured.
At’tar slowly rose to his feet, his dark-gray skin flickering with an eerie glow. His eyes, once full of fierce certainty, were now filled with confusion, and his voice shook as he said, “Al’aric…”
A slight tremor passed through the air as At’tar raised his hand, a motion that seemed to command the dark army. Without hesitation, the soldiers pulled their arrows back and released them, the projectiles cutting through the air toward Kenzie and the mysterious figure.
But to Kenzie’s astonishment, the arrows held steady in midair. Just a few feet from them, they hovered, suspended, as if some unseen force had gripped them, frozen in time.
Then, with a sudden, violent movement, all the arrows fell to the ground in a cacophony of clattering metal and wood.
The figure beside Kenzie, whose presence radiated power, raised his hand toward At’tar and the dark army. The force that followed was like the howling gusts of a violent hurricane. The entire dark army was violently thrown backward, their bodies tumbling through the air as if they were nothing more than brittle leaves caught in a tempest. The force of it was so overwhelming that the soldiers scattered like ragdolls, crashing into each other or being thrown into the void beyond.
At’tar, momentarily knocked off balance by the power of the force, regained his footing. His eyes glowed with a dangerous fire, and in that instant, he and the remaining soldiers turned and fled, running away from the might of the one who stood beside Kenzie.
The mysterious figure knelt down on one knee to Kenzie’s level, looking him in the eyes. “You are safe, Kenzie,” he said softly.
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