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In my mind, I could see the vague imprints of bodies — one clearly mine and the other unmistakably Isla’s.
One plinth bore a significant crack, splitting it nearly in half, a scar from some past cataclysm or perhaps an act of violence.
Or from what happened to us.
I felt Isla’s grip on my arm tighten, her nails digging into my skin. “I don’t like this,” she whispered, her voice quivering.
The vastness of the chamber carried her words, echoing them back to us, amplifying her fear.
“I remember,” she continued, her eyes locked onto the cracked plinth, “I remember being here, lying on that… bed. The cold stone against my back, the weight of… something pressing down on me.”
I turned to face her, looking deep into her eyes.
They were wide, filled with fear and uncertainty. “I don’t want to remember, Thillak,” she said, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to relive whatever happened here.”
It was musky and pungent, creating a visceral response in me.
My protective instincts kicked into overdrive.
I wanted to shield her, protect her from whatever memories this place might dredge up.
But deep down, I knew that avoiding the past wouldn’t save us from the future.
Whatever had transpired here was a key to our survival, a way to stay ahead of those pursuing us.
I reached out, gently cupping her face with my hands, trying to convey comfort and reassurance. “I know it’s hard, Isla,” I said, my voice soft, “but we need to face this. We need to remember, to understand.”
She looked up at me, tears forming in her eyes. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice just above a whisper.
“I know,” I replied, pulling her into a comforting embrace. “But we’re in this together. I won’t let anything harm you. Trust me.”
There was a moment of hesitation, but then I felt her nod against my chest.
We stood there, in the echoing vastness of the temple, drawing strength from one another.
Finally, I pulled away slightly, still holding her close. “Are you ready?” I asked.
She nodded, wiping away a tear. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Taking a deep breath, I took her hand in mine.
The feel of her fingers intertwined with mine was grounding, a tangible connection amidst the overwhelming uncertainty.
Together, we approached the stone plinths, determined to uncover the mysteries they held, no matter how painful the revelations might be.
* * *
The moment my fingers grazed the stone of the plinth, the world shifted, colors blurring, sounds melting, and reality twisting.
The cold and ancient temple disappeared, replaced by a scene from my past — a memory I’d kept locked deep within.
There was the unmistakable cold of the stone beneath my back and the restrictive bonds tying me down.
But the sensation that overcame me most was the deep-seated fear and a looming sense of dread.
Burning incense permeated the air, tickling my nostrils with its acrid sting.
A quick glance to my right confirmed my worst fears:
