Chapter 24: Echoes of the Forgotten
The underground city did not feel dead anymore.
That realization followed every mber of the expedition as they slowly advanced deeper through the ancient corridors beneath the western mountains, their footsteps echoing softly across cracked stone pathways illuminated only by Gandalf’s floating mana lights and the fading blue glow still lingering weakly within damaged conduits overhead.
The shattered remains of the guardian constructs lay behind them now.
Broken.
And silent.
But no one present truly believed the danger had ended.
Not after hearing the old mage’s words.
They were sealing sothing.
Even the soldiers had grown quieter afterward.
The confidence brought by Malen’s overwhelming strength no longer erased the unease creeping through the underground halls, because brute force alone felt strangely insignificant here beneath structures old enough to predate kingdoms themselves.
Lucien walked near the center of the formation silently.
Thinking,watching and certainly listening.
And the deeper they descended—
The stranger the city beca.
This place had once been magnificent.
That much was obvious even through centuries of decay.
Massive halls extended endlessly beyond broken archways while elegant carvings lined sections of the walls untouched by collapse, their designs unlike anything commonly seen within modern kingdoms, and though dust and age covered nearly everything, traces of old beauty still remained stubbornly visible beneath ruin.
It no longer looked like a fortress.
It looked like a civilization.
One that had lived here.
Worked here.
Dread here.
And eventually—
Died here.
The realization settled heavily inside Lucien the longer he walked.
In stories, ancient ruins often existed only as adventure.
Mystery.
Treasure.
But standing here now beneath the frozen mountains, surrounded by silent corridors where thousands of lives had once passed through daily existence—
It felt different.
Human.
Painfully human.
One of the younger knights near the rear eventually spoke quietly.
"This place..."
His voice echoed faintly.
"...feels sad."
No one mocked him.
Because everyone felt it.
Malen himself remained unusually silent while Gandalf’s expression had only grown more distant the deeper they traveled.
Eventually the corridor widened into what appeared to once have been a public chamber.
And the mont Lucien stepped inside—
He stopped walking.
The room was enormous.
Rows of collapsed stone tables stretched across the chamber while fragnts of shelves and broken furniture remained scattered everywhere beneath layers of dust, and near the far wall—
Small skeletal remains rested silently beside one another, centuries of decay have made them fragile but impossible to ignore.
They belonged to children.
Several soldiers froze imdiately.
Even Malen’s expression shifted slightly.
No signs of battle existed here.
No destroyed armor.
No weapons.
Only silence.
And bones.
Lucien slowly approached.
One small skeleton still rested against the wall clutching what looked like fragnts of carved stone shaped almost like a toy.
For several seconds—
Nobody spoke.
Because suddenly the ancient city no longer felt legendary.
It felt tragic.
Gandalf’s voice finally broke the silence softly.
"This was likely a shelter chamber."
Lucien looked toward him.
The old mage’s eyes remained fixed upon the remains.
"When the city fell..."
A pause.
"...they brought civilians underground."
One of the soldiers lowered his gaze quietly afterward.
Another made a small prayer gesture unconsciously.
Malen exhaled slowly through his nose.
Lucien remained standing before the small remains silently.
In his previous life, he had seen death before.
Hospitals.
News reports.
Funerals.
But those deaths always felt distant sohow.
Abstract.
This—
Did not.
Because these people had not died in war.
Or battle with glory.
They had hidden underground hoping to survive.
Families.
Children.
Ordinary people trapped inside sothing larger than themselves.
And sohow—
That felt far crueler.
Gandalf eventually stepped closer toward the center of the chamber where ancient symbols remained engraved into the floor beneath heavy dust.
He brushed part of it aside carefully.
Then frowned.
Lucien noticed imdiately.
"What is it?"
The old mage remained silent briefly.
Then answered quietly.
"Containnt wards."
Malen’s eyes narrowed.
"You keep saying things I dislike hearing."
For once, Gandalf did not respond with irritation.
Instead he looked around the chamber slowly.
"The civilians were brought below because the surface had already fallen."
Another pause.
"And afterward..."
His expression darkened.
"They sealed the underground sectors."
Silence returned instantly.
Lucien understood first.
"You an they trapped themselves here."
Gandalf nodded once.
No one spoke afterward.
Because the implications were horrifying.
The city above destroyed.
The survivors hiding underground.
The sealing of the lower districts.
Waiting.
Starving.
Dying slowly beneath the mountains while the world above continued moving forward without them.
One of the older soldiers whispered quietly.
"Why?"
Gandalf answered softly.
"To stop sothing from escaping."
The chamber suddenly felt colder.
Lucien looked around again at the skeletal remains resting silently throughout the room.
Not warriors.
Not mages.
Just people.
And for the first ti since discovering the ruins—
He began questioning whether uncovering this place had truly been a good idea.
Malen finally broke the silence.
"We should leave."
Several soldiers imdiately agreed internally.
Lucien noticed it.
Fear had changed now.
Before, the underground city felt dangerous.
Now—
It felt cursed.
Gandalf slowly stood.
"We should."
Then the old mage paused.
His gaze shifted toward one section of the far wall partially collapsed beneath debris.
"...but there’s sothing there."
Malen groaned quietly.
"Of course there is."
Lucien almost smiled faintly despite the atmosphere.
Almost.
The group carefully approached the collapsed section afterward.
Several soldiers cleared debris cautiously while Gandalf used controlled mana bursts to shift heavier stone blocks aside without destabilizing the surrounding structure further.
Eventually—
A doorway appeared.
Not large.
Not grand.
But simple,enough to ignore it and strangely intact.
Ancient symbols still glowed faintly around its edges.
Gandalf stepped closer.
Then froze.
Lucien noticed imdiately.
"What happened?"
The old mage stared at the symbols silently for several long seconds before answering in a voice quieter than before.
"This isn’t a storage chamber."
Another pause.
"It’s a record archive."
Lucien’s eyes sharpened.
Records.
History.
Answers.
Gandalf slowly touched the doorway.
The symbols flickered once.
Then—
The ancient door opened.
A wave of stale cold air drifted outward imdiately.
Inside—
Rows upon rows of ancient crystal devices lined the walls untouched by ti while countless shelves filled with preserved tallic tablets extended deep into darkness beyond visibility.
The archive remained intact.
Completely intact.
Even Lucas Marcus, who had remained composed through nearly everything since arriving in the north, stared silently for several seconds.
Because everyone present understood instinctively—
This room contained knowledge lost for centuries.
Possibly millennia.
Lucien stepped slowly inside.
The air felt strangely preserved here.
Still.
Like ti itself had barely moved.
And near the center of the chamber—
One crystal still glowed faintly.
Active.
Waiting.
Gandalf approached it carefully.
Then his face changed completely.
Fear.
Real fear.
Lucien had never seen it on the old mage before.
"What is it?"
Gandalf answered without looking away from the crystal.
"...This city has a na."
Silence.
Then—
He spoke slowly.
"Elarion-The unbreachable city"
The word echoed softly through the archive chamber.
And every mana light surrounding them flickered violently.
As if the city itself had heard its own forgotten na spoken aloud once more.
End of Chapter 24
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