Chapter 100: Rest and Door to Ruins

Closer they came, more obvious it was to them, there are is a bridge that leads to ruins.

They did not step onto the crumbling bridge right away. The winds screamed too violently there, and the shifting stones above the ruin looked ready to fall at any moment. Instead, Thalanir led them around a jut of stone that broke the gale, a massive boulder wedged like a guardian into the cliffside. The air here was calmer, though it still carried the hiss of the storm around the temple.

"This will do," Thalanir said softly, setting his pack down. His eyes, in the dimming light, gleamed with caution.

Renkai gave the stone wall a few hard knocks with his fist, testing its stability. "Better than sleeping on that bridge. Let’s get fire going before the night turns this mountain to ice."

Lira nodded, her hands already fumbling for kindling. The rocks around them were too bare to offer much, but with a bit of searching she gathered brittle branches lodged in crevices where the wind had tossed them. Renkai sparked flint against claw until flame caught, and soon a small fire crackled, its light defiant against the vast shadows of the mountains.

They sat close together, the fire reflecting in their eyes. The ruined tower loomed in the near distance, half-shattered, half-suspended, its stones glowing faintly as the last traces of sun dipped below the horizon. At times, the wind whistling through its ruins almost sounded like voices soft and fleeting whispers that brushed Lira’s ears without leaving words.

She drew her knees up, watching the tower. "It feels alive," she murmured.

"It is," Thalanir replied, his voice calm and solemn. "Air is never still. It carries memory, movement, breath itself. Places like this... they are shaped by centuries of wind. They remember more than any book could."

Renkai looked at him, tossing another stick into the fire. "Memories don’t matter. What matters is whether that bridge holds. One wrong step and you’ll join the sea below."

Still, his eyes lingered on the floating stones, unease threading his features. For all his sharp words, he felt the same awe.

Silence settled for a while, broken only by the fire’s crackle and the restless howl of wind beyond their shelter.

Lira finally spoke again, her voice low. "I thought I was ready. But seeing it... it feels so much bigger than me."

Thalanir turned toward her, his silhouette cast in firelight. "Every trial feels that way. Not because you are small, but because the task is meant to reveal how much larger you are than you realize."

Renkai grunted. "Wise words, stag." He looked at Lira. "Don’t overthink. When it’s time, fight the storm. Take what you came for. That’s it."

Lira smiled faintly, though her chest still felt tight. She stared at the fire until her eyelids grew heavy, the day’s exhaustion finally dragging at her limbs. The wind outside the boulder never ceased, carrying whispers from the temple as though it watched them waiting.

Before she slipped into sleep, she whispered to herself: Tomorrow. I’ll face it tomorrow.

The fire burned low, glowing embers casting a faint orange light against the boulder. Renkai had dozed with his back against the stone, his arms folded, though every so often his ears twitched at the distant cry of the wind. Thalanir lay stretched in deer form, antlers glinting faintly as he breathed slow and steady. Lira, curled in her cloak, closed her eyes at last.

Sleep did not take her gently but it pulled her swiftly into vision.

She stood upon the same bridge they had crossed earlier, yet in her dream it was whole, unbroken, its stone strong beneath her feet. The ruined tower loomed before her, but here it stood untouched, proud and radiant. The air sang, not howled, but sang, as though thousands of voices hummed in harmony.

From the shadows of the tower stepped a woman.

Her hair tumbled long and dark like Lira’s, though streaked faintly with silver. Her robes shimmered with the pale light of the skies, runes of elements faintly glowing at her sleeves. She carried no fear, only calm, and when her gaze lifted, Lira felt her own eyes staring back.

It was herself. Older. Changed. Whole.

The woman walked to the edge of the bridge, her steps sure, her presence filling the air with quiet strength. When she smiled, it was with a peace that cut through Lira’s heart. She raised one hand, as though to wave or bless, and then, like mist, her form thinned, dissolved, and vanished into drifting fog that swallowed the tower whole.

Lira gasped awake.

Morning light slanted across the cliffs, painting the camp in pale gold. The fire had died to ash, and a sharp chill hung in the air. She pressed her hand against her chest, her breath unsteady.

That woman... me? How could I be here before?

The images refused to leave her: the calm smile, the tower whole, the voice of the wind carrying harmony instead of chaos. It had felt too real, too close to imagination.

Renkai stirred, stretching his arms with a groan. "Morning already? Feels like I didn’t sleep at all."

Thalanir’s antlers gleamed as he shifted into full elven form, blinking awake. His eyes lingered on Lira. "You look pale. Did you dream?"

"I..." She hesitated, then whispered, "I saw myself. Here. Walking out of that tower. But it wasn’t ruined. It was whole."

Both men looked at her, but neither interrupted. She swallowed hard. "I don’t know what it means. How could I have been here before?"

Renkai in deep thought held his fan under chin and didn’t say much more.

Thalanir’s expression grew thoughtful, shadowed by the weight of myth. "Dreams tied to element places are not ordinary. Air often shows fragments, memory, possibility, echoes of lives once walked. Do not dismiss it."

Renkai gave a short grunt, though not unkindly. "Or maybe it’s the mountain messing with your head. These winds play tricks. Best not to sink too deep into shadows you can’t grasp yet."

But even he looked unsettled as he adjusted his pack.

They ate a simple meal, dried fruit, elven flatbread, and cold water, before stamping out the ashes of their fire. The ruined tower loomed close now, its fractured silhouette sharp against the morning sky. With the sun rising, the storm-winds around it seemed to grow restless, almost impatient.

Lira shouldered her satchel, determination hardening beneath her unease. "Whatever it was I saw... I’ll find the truth inside."

"Then let us go," Thalanir said. His voice was steady, but his eyes flicked toward the tower as though remembering every whispered myth he had ever heard.

Together, they began the climb toward the bridge that led to the temple ruins.

The wind shrieked as they approached the bridge. What remained of the structure jutted out over a dizzying drop, its stone ribs cracked and gnawed by centuries of storms. Chunks of the balustrade had fallen away entirely, leaving jagged gaps that exposed nothing but sheer air and the roar of the sea far below.

Lira froze at the edge, staring at the first loose slabs swaying slightly under the gusts. Her throat tightened. "This... this will never hold us."

Renkai stepped forward first, testing the stones with the blunt weight of his boot. A deep rumble echoed through the cliffside, and one fragment snapped free, tumbling into the abyss. He snorted. "That one won’t. But the rest..." he stomped again, deliberately hard. The stones shuddered but held. "are stronger than they look."

Thalanir moved beside Lira, his elven form graceful even against the battering winds. He touched her shoulder lightly. "Bridges born of old elemental craft do not fail easily. The winds have tested them for centuries. Trust in what remains."

Her pulse still raced, but the calm steadiness in his voice slowed it just enough. She swallowed and nodded. "Alright... I’ll try."

Step by step, they made their way across. Renkai led with blunt certainty, his broad frame shielding the others from the sharpest gusts. Thalanir moved like a dancer, each footfall measured, his antlers catching stray beams of light. Lira followed, every breath loud in her ears, her heart pounding whenever the stone trembled beneath her weight.

At one point, a fissure split open under her heel with a sharp crack. She gasped, swaying, her arms flailing for balance.

Renkai’s hand shot back, steadying her with iron strength. "Eyes forward, girl," he said, though his tone was protective more than harsh.

"Breathe," Thalanir added, his voice carrying through the howl of the air. "Let the wind guide you, not frighten you."

Together, step after step, they crossed the final stretch until the ground beneath them steadied once more. The bridge ended at a vast stone platform where the ruins of the temple loomed before them.

What had once been a grand entrance was now broken into fragments of carved pillars and shattered walls. The arch that had crowned the door had collapsed long ago, its stones scattered like bones across the floor. Yet where the doorway should have been, the collapse had torn open a wider gap, jagged and dark like a wound in the wall.

Renkai adjusted the strap of his pack and let out a low whistle. "Well, there’s your entrance. Not welcoming, but it’ll do."

Thalanir studied the broken stone, his hand brushing faint traces of inscriptions half-swallowed by moss. "This temple once honored air’s freedom. Now it feels as though it has been swallowed by chaos."

Lira stepped closer, brushing her fingers against the fractured carvings. Her dream flickered through her mind—the same entrance, whole and radiant, her older self walking calmly out of it. She shivered.

"Whatever waits inside..." she whispered, "...it was once beautiful."

The wind howled through the ruined gap, carrying with it the faint sound of something more, like distant whispers curling from the shadows within.

Renkai drew in a long breath, squaring his shoulders. "Then let’s see what’s left."