—
Part 3: A Quick Glimpse
The world stretched.
That was the only way Eli could describe it—the moment he crossed the threshold, everything seemed to elongate, like reality itself was being pulled thin. Colors deepened, sounds grew richer, and the very air hummed against his skin with a vibration he could feel in his bones.
He stood at the entrance to the grotto, the crystalline formations casting prismatic light across the stone floor. Time felt different here—not slower, but deeper somehow, as if each second had weight and substance.
"This is still incredibly weird," Eli murmured, his voice sounding strangely resonant in the altered space.
Aura circled him anxiously, her wings leaving trails of light in the air. She seemed agitated, her gaze darting from the portal to the depths of the grotto and back again.
Eli quickly set the automaton on the ground, stepping back as its legs uncurled with mechanical precision. The device reoriented itself, crystal eyes glinting as they adjusted to the light. It didn't move from its spot, but something about its perfect stillness made it seem all the more alert.
"There," Eli said. "Stay put and... do whatever it is you're supposed to do."
As he turned toward the portal, something caught his eye—a ripple in the crystalline surface of a nearby formation. For a heartbeat, he could have sworn he saw a silhouette reflected there—tall, watchful, still. Not Marco's familiar form, but something older, more patient.
The binding spell stirred at his neck, not tightening but shifting, as if responding to an unheard call. The silver threads pulsed with warmth that spread down his spine, a sensation that wasn't quite warning but wasn't comfort either.
"Did you see that?" he whispered to Aura.
She hovered close, wings fluttering with nervous energy. Her emotions washed over him—urgency, discomfort, a wordless plea to leave.
"Right," Eli muttered. "Let's not stay any longer than we have to."
With one last glance at the automaton—its crystal eyes now glowing with a faint inner light—Eli turned and stepped back through the portal, pulling Aura with him.
The world compressed, reality snapping back into place like a rubber band released from tension. Eli stumbled forward, catching himself against the stone wall, his breath coming in short gasps.
"Transition successful," Marco noted clinically. "Time elapsed: twenty-three seconds."
—
"The time disparity appears consistent," Marco observed, holographic displays flickering with calculations. "Twenty-three seconds of exposure equates to approximately forty-six minutes within the grotto."
Eli leaned against the wall, his body still adjusting to the abrupt transition. The binding spell pulsed steadily at his neck, a rhythmic warmth that synced with his heartbeat.
"So what now?" he asked. "We just... wait?"
"We prepare," Marco corrected. "The automaton will gather data for approximately thirty hours of grotto time. In that period, I can finalize a training regimen optimized for your capabilities."
His holographic form expanded, projections spiraling outward to display complex patterns of light and energy. "Battle simulations within the grotto could compress weeks of training into hours. With proper synchronization of exit and re-entry points, we could maximize efficiency while minimizing external time loss."
Eli watched as the displays shifted, showing diagrams of the silver threads weaving through patterns he recognized from the Aethel murals. "You're already planning to send me back in," he said, the realization settling cold in his chest.
"Of course," Marco replied, as if it were the most obvious conclusion. "The temporal advantage is too significant to ignore."
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Aura hovered nearby, her wings fluttering with unease as she watched the portal. Her light pulsed in irregular patterns, dimming and brightening in a rhythm that seemed almost like a conversation with itself.
"She knows something," Eli murmured, watching her. "Something about the grotto that she's not telling us."
Marco's calculations paused, his gaze shifting to Aura. "Her reaction suggests a deeper instinctual knowledge," he agreed. "Perhaps a genetic memory, or a connection to the grotto's energy signature."
"Or maybe she's just worried," Eli suggested dryly. "Not everything needs to be analyzed to death."
The binding spell shifted again, the silver threads pulsing with a warmth that spread down Eli's spine. It wasn't pain—not the searing heat he'd grown accustomed to—but something different. Almost like anticipation.
Minutes ticked by, stretched into an hour, then two. Eli paced the chamber, his mind racing with questions and uncertainties. The revelations from the grotto still weighed heavily on him—the binding spell's true purpose, the power contained within him, the desperate last stand of the Aethel.
"Eight minutes remaining," Marco announced, breaking the tense silence.
Eli nodded, his hand tightening around Starling. The dark core pulsed faintly in his grip—not light, but a vibration that traveled up his arm and seemed to connect, for just an instant, with the binding spell.
"I don't like this," he admitted quietly. "It feels like we're being watched. Not just observed, but... assessed."
Marco's expression remained impassive, but something flickered in his eyes—a calculation, perhaps, or a consideration. "Elaborate," he prompted.
"I saw something in there," Eli said, the memory sending a chill down his spine. "A reflection, maybe. Or a presence. Something old and patient."
"The grotto contains memories," Marco reminded him. "Fragments of the past preserved in crystal."
"This wasn't a memory," Eli insisted. "It was... aware. Present."
The binding spell pulsed again, the silver threads brightening momentarily. Aura drifted closer, her wings fluttering with increased agitation. Her emotions washed over Eli—urgency, warning, a desperate need to be understood.
"Three minutes," Marco announced.
The air seemed to thicken, the portal's energy pulsing in a rhythm that matched the binding spell's warmth. Eli found himself holding his breath, muscles tensed as if preparing for battle.
"One minute."
Aura's light flared suddenly, her wings beating frantically as she darted toward the portal. A wave of emotion crashed over Eli—alarm, recognition, a wordless cry of warning.
"Something's wrong," Eli said, straightening. "Aura, what—"
The portal flashed.
Light exploded outward—not the soft glow of the grotto's crystals, but a harsh, blinding brilliance that sent Eli staggering back. The binding spell flared hot against his neck, the silver threads pulsing with a rhythm that seemed to match the portal's fluctuations.
When the light faded, the automaton lay on the chamber floor.
Eli approached cautiously, Starling extended before him. The automaton looked... wrong. Its sleek frame was warped slightly, as if it had been exposed to intense heat. Golden dust covered its surface, glinting in the chamber's dim light. Its crystal eyes, once clear and bright, were clouded with cracks that spread like spiderwebs across their surface.
"Well," Eli said, breaking the stunned silence, "that doesn't look good."
Marco's holographic form flickered forward, displays spinning rapidly as he analyzed the returned automaton. "The device has sustained significant damage," he observed, voice tight with what might have been concern. "Data retrieval will require manual intervention."
Eli knelt beside the automaton, studying the golden dust that coated its surface. It glimmered with an inner light, almost alive in its intensity. "What happened to it?"
"Unknown," Marco replied. "The recordings must be accessed manually through the primary crystal."
Aura hovered nearby, her light dimmed to almost nothing, wings trembling. Waves of emotion radiated from her—fear, recognition, a desperate plea for caution.
"She knows what happened," Eli said, rising to his feet. "Or at least, she has an idea."
Marco's gaze shifted to Aura, calculations running behind those cold eyes. "We need that data," he stated firmly. "And we need to understand what caused this damage."
The binding spell pulsed warmly at Eli's neck, the silver threads brightening with each beat. Not painful, but insistent—a warning, perhaps, or a reminder of what lay within.
"I know," Eli said, gripping Starling tightly. The dark core vibrated in his hand, slow and searching, almost hungry. "But something tells me we might not like what we find."
Marco's expression was unreadable, his holographic form flickering with rapid calculations. "Nevertheless," he said after a moment, "we must proceed. The next phase requires a longer stay within the grotto."
Eli looked down at the damaged automaton, at the golden dust that seemed to pulse with its own inner light. Then at Aura, her tiny form trembling with fear and determination.
"Something's watching in there," he said quietly. "Not just observing, but waiting. I felt it."
The binding spell pulsed in agreement, the silver threads warming against his skin. Not his enemy, but his guardian—protecting him, perhaps, from what he carried within. From what might be awakened if he stepped back into the grotto's embrace.
"We'll go," Eli decided, his voice steady despite the uncertainty coiling in his gut. "But we go prepared. And we go together."
Marco nodded once, a crisp, economical gesture. "Agreed. Preparations will commence immediately."
As they turned away from the portal, Eli couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were watching from beyond the shimmering surface—ancient, patient, and calculating. Waiting for his return.
The binding spell pulsed softly at his neck, a steady rhythm like a heartbeat. Not chains, but a presence, alert and watchful.
Not his enemy, but his guardian.
And for the first time since entering the dungeon, that thought didn't fill him with rage, but with quiet resolve.
