Chapter 9: Alive?

The walls of the cavern seemed to breathe, their undulating patterns shifting subtly as Coza and Edna ventured deeper. The air grew warmer, laced with an unfamiliar metallic tang that seemed to cling to their throats. The light from the veins pulsed in uneven rhythms now, as if mirroring some ancient heartbeat far below.

Coza kept his grip tight on the sphere. Its warmth was a strange comfort, yet each pulse it emitted felt heavier, as though the artifact was somehow gaining weight with every step he took. Edna led the way in silence, her weapon drawn and her eyes scanning the shifting shadows. The glow of the veins cast her face in sharp relief, the hardened lines of her expression a reminder that danger was everywhere here.

A faint whisper brushed against Coza’s ears, so soft he thought he’d imagined it. He slowed, glancing around the cavern. “Did you hear that?”

Edna didn’t stop walking. “Ignore it. Keep moving.”

But the whisper came again, clearer this time. It wasn’t words—at least, not words Coza could understand. It was a chorus of faint murmurs, layered and overlapping, like a breeze moving through reeds. He glanced at the walls, at the glowing patterns that twisted and shifted. The veins pulsed brighter as the whispers grew louder.

“It’s coming from the walls,” Coza said, his voice hushed.

Edna stopped this time, her hand tightening on her weapon. “The stones remember,” she said grimly. “Places like this hold echoes. Memories of what’s been. Or what’s coming.”

Coza swallowed hard. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It wasn’t meant to,” Edna said, already moving again.

The cavern opened into a vast chamber dominated by a glistening river. Its surface shimmered like liquid glass, reflecting the golden light of the veins above. The air here was still, heavy with an electric charge that prickled Coza’s skin.

Edna approached the riverbank cautiously, crouching to study the strange liquid. “It’s alive,” she said quietly.

Coza raised an eyebrow. “Alive?”

“Not in the way we are,” Edna clarified. She dipped the tip of her weapon into the liquid, pulling it back quickly. The surface rippled in response, faint tendrils of light spiraling outward. “It reacts to movement. We need to cross without disturbing it too much.”

Coza frowned, glancing at the river. The idea of stepping into something that wasn’t entirely... inert didn’t sit well with him. “How do we cross?”

Edna gestured to a series of stepping stones scattered across the river’s surface. They glowed faintly, as if illuminated from within. “The stones should be stable, but you need to move carefully. No sudden jumps, no hesitation.”

Coza nodded, his throat dry. He stepped onto the first stone, the surface cool and smooth beneath his boot. The stone held firm, but the river rippled faintly, its surface shimmering with light. He swallowed hard and stepped onto the next stone, his heart racing with every movement.

Edna followed close behind, her movements practiced and deliberate. The river seemed to watch them, its surface alive with shifting patterns of light. Halfway across, Coza hesitated, the sphere in his coat pulsing more insistently now.

“It’s reacting to the sphere,” he said, his voice tight.

“Then move faster,” Edna replied sharply. “We’re almost there.”

As they reached the final stones, the river began to stir. The liquid rose in thin, twisting tendrils, reaching toward them like curious fingers. Coza froze, his breath catching in his throat. One of the tendrils brushed against his boot, sending a shock of cold through his body.

“Don’t stop!” Edna barked, her voice cutting through his panic.

Coza forced himself forward, leaping onto the final stone and then the riverbank. Edna followed a moment later, turning to fire a shot into the river. The liquid hissed and recoiled, the tendrils retreating into its depths.

“Never hesitate,” Edna said, her tone clipped. “This place feeds on hesitation.”

Coza nodded, too shaken to argue. He glanced back at the river, its surface now calm and still, as if nothing had happened. The faint whispers from the walls returned, their tone sharper, more insistent.

The path beyond the river led to another chamber, smaller and more enclosed. At its center stood an obelisk, its surface carved with intricate symbols that glowed faintly. The whispers grew louder here, their tone almost pleading.

Edna approached the obelisk cautiously, her weapon at her side. Coza followed, the sphere in his hand pulsing in rhythm with the glowing carvings. As they drew closer, the whispers shifted, forming fragments of words—broken, disjointed, but unmistakable.

“End... begin... remember...”

Coza froze, his eyes widening. “It’s speaking.”

Edna glanced at him sharply. “It’s reacting to you. To the sphere.”

The whispers intensified, and the carvings on the obelisk began to shift. The symbols rearranged themselves, forming patterns that seemed almost deliberate. A faint vibration ran through the floor, and the chamber filled with a low, resonant hum.

The sphere grew hot in Coza’s hand, its glow brightening. Before he could react, the obelisk flared with light, and a wave of energy surged through the room. Coza stumbled back, shielding his eyes as the light coalesced into a figure—hazy and indistinct, but undeniably human in shape.

The figure’s voice was a blend of tones, layered and echoing. “The spark returns. The cycle awakens.”

“What cycle?” Coza demanded, his voice trembling. “What does it want?”

The figure’s gaze—or what Coza assumed was its gaze—fixed on him. “The spark chooses. You are the vessel.”

Coza stepped back, shaking his head. “I didn’t choose this.”

“The choice is not yours,” the figure said, its tone final. “It never was.”

The light began to fade, and the figure dissolved into mist. The obelisk dimmed, its glow retreating into faint embers. The chamber fell silent, the whispers gone.

Edna exhaled slowly, her expression unreadable. “Whatever this is,” she said, her voice low, “it’s not just about the Harbor. It’s bigger than that.”

Coza stared at the sphere in his hand, its glow now faint but steady. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

Edna looked at him, her gaze steady. “That’s something only you can figure out.”

The veins in the walls began to pulse again, their light brighter than before. The path beyond the chamber stretched into darkness, its end unseen. Coza clenched the sphere tightly, his mind a storm of questions he couldn’t yet answer.

Without a word, Edna turned and began walking, her steps sure and deliberate. Coza hesitated, glancing back at the obelisk one last time. The faint glow of its carvings seemed to watch him, as if waiting for something.

He followed Edna, his steps slow but resolute. The cavern seemed to breathe around them, its whispers replaced by the steady hum of the veins.