The Immortal’s Vow

The Unseen Watcher

Every step seemed an intrusion, as if they were treading a sacred floor that had not seen living souls in centuries. Lyra's boots crunched over the gravel-strewn floor, every sound sharp, far too loud against the eerie stillness of the ancient ruin. She stuck close to Ivy and Rhett, taking comfort in the nearness of the others, yet the weight of the ruin bore down upon her. It was as though the air had thickened with the history of the place, clinging to her skin and seeping into her lungs with every breath.

Harrison led the way, practically buzzing with excitement. He moved with a reckless energy, the same kind that had gotten them into countless risky situations before. His flashlight beam cut through the darkness ahead, momentarily distracting Lyra from the oppressive weight of the place. But only for a moment.

“Anything yet?” she asked, her voice cutting through the silence that had settled over the group like a suffocating fog.

Harrison turned, his grin flashing in the dim light of his flashlight.

“Not yet, but it’s here. I can feel it.” His voice held that eager certainty she’d come to expect from him, the same confidence that had gotten them all into this ancient ruin at the edge of a storm.

Lyra tried to smile, but it felt hollow. Something was wrong. 

The feeling began the instant they crossed into the ruin, a creeping sensation that they weren't the only ones. The shadows thickened around them, the walls seeming to close in as they moved deeper into the ruin's bowels. Panic began to rise in her, and she fought the compulsion to tamp it down; instead, it slithered through her defenses, seeping into her mind.

Her hand had tightened on her flashlight, and she looked up at the storm-darkened sky through a crack in the ancient stone ceiling. 

A boom of thunder boomed distantly, a sharp crack that shuddered the air and was followed by a rumbling that seemed to vibrate through the bones of the earth.

Lyra jumped, her heart pounding. The flashlight she had been holding escaped her grip and fell to the floor with a loud thud that seemed unreasonably deafening due to the stillness prevailing in the ruins.

“Crap,” she cursed and bent slightly to pick it up. 

But before she could reach out for it, Rhett took it into his hands and offered it back to her with an apprehensive expression on his face.

“Are you alright?” he asked, so gently, and she felt him scrutinizing her with those gray eyes filled with warmth and concern which she used to see when they were an item. That warm gaze which she always liked even when she didn’t want to.

“Yes, I am.”  

Even so, her pulse was still up, and the feeling of being scrutinized from somewhere was still very alive. This place was strange–there was something about it she could not exactly put a finger on. 

It wasn’t only the tempest. 

It was deeper than that, something woven into the very stones around them.

Ivy chuckled from behind her, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness. 

“Really, Lyra? Jumping at thunder? You’re supposed to be the brave one here.”

Lyra shot her a look, half playful, half serious. 

“Maybe I would be if this place didn’t feel like it was watching us,” she muttered, glancing around at the twisting shadows that seemed to move just beyond the edge of the flashlight beams. 

There was something unsettling about the ruin, something alive.

Rhett raised an eyebrow. 

“Finally, someone else on the ‘let’s get out of here’ train.”

Ivy rolled her eyes, nudging Harrison. 

“These two are just scaredy cats. It’s an old ruin, guys. That’s all.”

Harrison, unfazed by the unsettling vibe, was more energized than ever. He said excitedly, “It is not merely some ancient abandoned structure. This place is a part of ancient history. It holds secrets, maybe things no one’s seen in centuries. We’re walking through history right now.”

Lyra muttered under her breath, casting another wary look around. History was one thing, but this place felt like more than just forgotten stone. 

It was darker, older. 

And she sensed that they were treading on something dangerous. Something that didn’t want them here.

Despite her misgivings, they pressed on, their flashlights cutting through the gloom, sweeping over faded carvings and weathered statues. Most were too eroded to make out, just vague outlines of figures lost to time. The air grew colder, and the wind howled louder outside, making the ancient ruin feel even more oppressive.

Then, something caught Lyra’s eye.

Half-hidden beneath rubble and overgrown vines stood a statue, more intact than the others. It was tall, twice her height, though the centuries had worn away much of its detail. 

But it wasn’t the statue’s size that unsettled her—it was its presence. It felt as though it was watching her.

She stepped closer, shining her flashlight over it. It was a sculpture or rather the remains of a man who was standing in a threatening posture with his sword raised. The stone sword was old and battered, but still there was an aura of mystery surrounding it, as if stone possessed some unfathomable power.  

Lyra tried to gasp but managed to whisper, “Harrison.” 

In a split second, he was next to her, eyes fixated on the exposed statue open-mouthed. 

"Whoa," he breathed out, inclining his head into the statue revealing more of it. 

"This… this is awesome.”

Ivy and Rhett joined them, their flashlights illuminating the figure from different angles.

“What is it?” 

Ivy asked, her earlier skepticism replaced with curiosity.

Harrison ran his hand over the worn stone, his brow furrowing in concentration. 

“It’s a god,” he said reverently. “Or it was. Look at the markings.” 

He pointed to faded inscriptions near the base of the statue, though they were barely readable. 

“This sword… It's a symbol of balance. Whoever this was, they were important. Not just any god.”

Lyra shivered, her eyes lifting to the statue’s cracked, weathered face. It wasn’t just the sword, or that particular stance – there was something about it that seemed uncomfortably…familiar.

“It’s him,” she said aloud before she could stop herself.

Harrison turned to her, his eyes alight with excitement. 

“Who?”

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. 

“The one you talked about. Zarekth. The god of chaos and order. This is him.”

Harrison’s grin spread wide, his excitement palpable. 

“Yes! Yes, I think you’re right! We’ve found him. This is the history we’ve been looking for.”

But as Lyra stared up at the statue, dread settled in her chest. They hadn’t just found history. They had disturbed something ancient. Something that had been asleep for too long.

And whatever it was, it wasn’t going to stay asleep for much longer.