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Each step was met with resistance, the mud trying to pull our boots down, but we trudged on, driven by the urgency of our mission.
As we approached the temple, I could sense its age.
It wasn’t just a building; it was a testament to time itself.
The walls, though worn by centuries of rain and wind, stood tall and majestic.
Intricate carvings, faded but still discernible, told tales of ancient ceremonies and long-forgotten deities.
The entrance was framed by two massive stone columns, moss and vines creeping up their sides, nature reclaiming its territory.
But despite the encroaching wilderness, the path to the entrance remained clear, as if some unseen force kept it open for weary travelers like us.
We paused at the threshold, the weight of our journey pressing down on us.
The rain, though light, felt relentless, a reminder of the world’s indifference to our struggles.
But this place, with its darkened entryway and promises of shelter, seemed to beckon us.
I looked over at Isla, her face wet from the rain, her expression determined.
Without a word, we stepped forward together, leaving the rain-soaked world behind.
As the darkness of the temple enveloped us, I felt a sense of relief.
This was a sanctuary, a place of refuge.
For now, at least, we were safe.
And as the entrance closed behind us, plunging us into near-total darkness, one thought echoed in my mind — this temple held not just the key to our safety but perhaps the answers to the mysteries of our intertwined destinies.
* * *
The first thing I noticed as we ventured deeper into the temple was the sound.
Or rather, the multitude of sounds that seemed to cascade around us, magnifying every step, every breath.
The cavernous interior transformed the most minuscule noise into an echoing cry, creating an eerie, almost haunting atmosphere.
The occasional droplet of rain, having found its way through cracks in the ceiling, would plummet downward, creating a sharp, distinct note as it connected with the stone floor below.
These droplets, when pooled, formed shallow puddles that reflected the scant light available, casting wavering patterns upon the walls of the temple.
The dim light, combined with the echoing acoustics, made me acutely aware of every sensation.
The cold, almost biting air, filled my lungs as I breathed, tasting faintly of moss and ancient rock.
The ground beneath my feet was uneven, with patches of slippery moss threatening to trip us at every step.
But it was the sight ahead that truly captured my attention, forcing every other sensation to the background.
Two massive stone plinths stood at the forefront of the vast chamber.
The mere sight of them sent chills racing down my spine.
I recognized them.
They haunted my nightmares, their dark and cold surfaces replaying in my mind again and again.
