The light from the tunnel danced across the floor, casting soft golden glimmers on the stone. Violet led the way, her steps steady, wand gripped tightly in her hand. She could feel the mana pulsing around them like a gentle heartbeat. Her wand responded to it, glowing faintly in sync.
"This place is alive," Iris whispered, looking around in awe.
"It's more than that," Echo said, brushing her fingers along the glowing walls. "It remembers."
The Memory Core wasn't a room—it was a presence. Magic hummed through the walls like a quiet song, each note carrying whispers of stories long past.
They entered a wide, circular chamber. Floating in the center was a dome made of translucent crystal, glowing with shifting hues—reds, blues, golds. Around it, hundreds of small lights orbited slowly like stars.
Violet felt drawn to it.
The Seeker placed a hand on her shoulder. "The Core will show you what you need to see. But it won't protect you from it."
Violet nodded. "I have to know."
She stepped forward. The moment she touched the dome, the room vanished.
—
She was no longer in the chamber. Instead, she stood in a sunlit square. People bustled around her, laughing, casting spells casually like it was second nature. Magic was everywhere—in the fountains, the lamplights, even the pigeons fluttering by.
Then the sky cracked.
A jagged tear appeared, black and pulsing. From it came monsters—screeching, twisted creatures that fell like rain. Panic erupted. Screams filled the air.
She watched as buildings crumbled. People fled. But a group stood their ground—mages, shoulder to shoulder, casting protective spells.
One woman caught her eye. Golden hair braided down her back. A wand glowing bright green.
Their eyes met.
"Do not forget," the woman said.
And everything shattered.
—
Violet was in a small cottage now. The fire crackled softly. Her parents sat nearby, their faces calm. A younger version of herself laughed as she made a toy levitate clumsily.
Her mother smiled. "You're doing it! You'll be a great mage someday."
Then the world shook.
The door blew open. Screams. A flash of red. A shadow.
Her father ran to protect them. Her mother shouted spells. The room filled with smoke and cries.
Violet reached for them.
But the memory pulled her away.
—
She stood in darkness now.
Before her stood another version of herself—older, fierce, with fire in her eyes.
"Do you understand now?" the older Violet asked.
"Yes," she whispered. "I have to fight. For the truth. For what was lost."
"Then wake up."
Light flooded the darkness.
—
Violet gasped and stumbled back from the dome. Her friends caught her.
"You were gone for a while," Ren said.
"It felt like years," Violet murmured. "I saw… everything. The first attack. The fall. My parents. And others—mages who stood and fought before us."
"And now?" Iris asked.
Violet raised her wand, which now glowed with new runes.
"Now we remind the world of what it forgot."
---
The pulse from Violet's wand hadn't dimmed. Instead, it spread like a gentle wave, awakening other parts of the chamber. One by one, crystals hanging from the ceiling ignited, casting the entire room in a warm golden glow.
Violet's breath came in shallow bursts. She looked to the others, her vision still flickering with the memories she had just relived. But her grip on the wand was strong.
"We're not done yet," she said, her voice more certain now.
The Seeker approached, his expression unreadable. "You connected with the Core. You saw more than just visions—you felt the roots of what binds magic to memory."
Violet nodded. "I understand now. Magic isn't just power. It's remembering. The world has forgotten itself, and that's what's allowed the darkness to grow."
A low hum echoed from deeper within the tunnel. The floor beneath them vibrated faintly, as though the Core was guiding them forward.
They followed it.
The passage narrowed. Vines of light crept along the walls. Strange glyphs etched into the stone shimmered as they passed, responding to Violet's presence.
They reached another chamber—this one circular, with a platform at its center. Hovering above it was a cube made entirely of interlocking light, shifting constantly in shape.
"The Archive," Echo whispered. "The last keeper of the old world's truths."
Violet stepped forward cautiously. The cube stopped shifting and rotated toward her, projecting a beam of light into the air. Images unfolded—battles, fallen cities, survivors rebuilding, the first mages. A giant tree with glowing roots. A storm of black mist devouring towns.
Then a face—shadowed, eyes glowing red.
The Voidborn.
Violet clenched her jaw. "That's him. The one in my visions."
"His name was once Lioren," Echo said quietly. "A mage who tried to separate magic from memory—to make it pure power. But the experiment failed. It tore him apart. Now he's a fragment of every forgotten thing."
The light shifted again.
A map formed, showing the location of something called The Heart. It pulsed like a living being.
"That's where the connection is strongest," said the Seeker. "If he's trying to rewrite reality, that's where he'll do it."
Violet reached for the map.
The moment she touched it, the entire room quaked.
From the floor, cracks spidered outward. Shadowy figures burst forth—creatures of smoke and glass, screaming in silence.
"Defense positions!" Ren shouted, stepping in front.
Iris vanished in a blur, blades drawn. Echo's chant sent protective sigils spinning in the air.
Violet didn't hesitate. She thrust her wand forward, drawing on every memory—her parents' voices, the streets of her old home, the weight of her vow.
Golden chains erupted from her wand, latching onto the creatures, dragging them to the ground. Fire blazed from Iris's strikes, while Ren shattered their forms with sheer force.
But they kept coming.
The cube flickered, dimmed.
"Violet," Echo called, "If they consume the Archive, we lose the last truth!"
With a cry, Violet stepped onto the platform. Her wand pulsed.
"I remember!" she shouted.
A ring of light surged from the cube, blasting the shadows backward. They screeched and dissolved.
Silence.
Then, slowly, the Archive lowered itself into her hand. It became a sphere of crystal—small, warm, alive.
Violet looked at her team. "It's ours now. We carry the last memory."
The tunnel behind them shifted. A staircase formed—spiraling downward.
Echo nodded. "The Heart lies beneath."
They stepped onto the first stair.
One by one, they descended.
The air grew denser. Warmer. Brighter.
As they reached the bottom, a door awaited them—ancient, made of gold and bone, covered in thousands of tiny runes.
Violet approached. The runes responded to her touch, glowing with light.
It opened slowly.
Beyond lay a bridge of white stone, floating over an endless abyss. At its center pulsed a crystal the size of a house—red and gold, alive, beating like a heart.
"The Heart of Magic," the Seeker whispered.
But Violet's eyes were on the figure standing before it.
Lioren.
No longer a shadow.
But real.
He turned, red eyes gleaming.
"Welcome," he said. "I've been waiting for you."