**Chapter 19: "Whispers of the First Weaver"**

Keala’s triumph echoed through the temple, a triumphant, sickening pulse of corrupt magic. I felt it resonate in the stone, in the air, and most acutely, in the brand on my wrist. It was burning, not with the familiar, dull throb of my impending doom, but with a fresh, agonizing heat. Like a newly forged iron pressed against my skin. Just a while ago, I was feeling glad that I was with this girl. I'm so clumsy.

“Damn it,” I muttered, sinking to my knees. My head swam, and I clutched at it, trying to ward off the encroaching darkness. I could barely see in the torch light.

Next to me, Lyra was saying something, but her words were lost in the roaring in my ears. I barely registered her presence, a blurred outline of concern in my fading vision.

What was the point? All of it—the pact with Azazel, Kael's blood on my hands (not literally, thank the Gods, but the metaphorical kind was bad enough), the half-baked research, the Forbidden Bookstore and its crazy gatekeeper, the society, that old ass temple. All of it had led to this: utter, humiliating failure.

I’d charged in, fueled by a pathetic desire for revenge and some naive hope of wriggling my way out of a demonic contract. And what had I accomplished? I'd handed a power-hungry noble the keys to godhood. Good job Elias. Now the world would be crushed, all for one man's desire of getting revenge over god-knows-who. With Keal behind the cause, Elias may as well just kill him.

I was supposed to be the smart one, the mage with the vast library and the impressive collection of arcane knowledge. Ironic, right? All that reading, all those incantations, and I was still just a pawn, dancing to the tune of forces I didn’t even begin to understand.

I closed my eyes tightly, willing the pain to stop, willing the darkness to swallow me whole. I was done. I couldn't do this anymore. There was no point in keeping going.

The darkness didn't come. Instead, something else happened. A shift in the air, a sudden drop in temperature. A pressure, I couldn't breath properly. It was the same feeling that I was with Azazel.

I opened my eyes, blinking against a light that wasn't there a moment before. It wasn't a natural light, like the flickering torchlight. It was… ethereal. Opalescent. As if moonlight had been somehow solidified into a tangible form.

Standing before me, shimmering like a heat haze given form, was a figure. Tall, impossibly so, wreathed in that strange, otherworldly light. I don't know if I was happy or scared. It felt like I was seeing stuff that wasn't really there any longer.

It wasn't solid, not exactly. I could see the rough-hewn stones of the temple wall *through* it, but there was a definite presence, a weight to the air that hadn't been there before. Almost as heavy as Azazel.

"Gods," Lyra breathed, drawing her sword. Her voice was barely a whisper, filled with awe and a healthy dose of fear. She pushed herself in front of me, her blade pointed at the spectral figure. She wanted to protect me.

The figure paid her no mind, its attention focused entirely on me. It radiated power - ancient, immense, and somehow… sad. I wasn't sure what I was seeing, but I didn't think it was inherently hostile. It was like the opposite feeling of Azazel's. Ironic.

"Who..." My voice croaked, but I couldn't find the strenght to keep going with any question.

The figure spoke, and its voice wasn't a physical sound, not exactly. It resonated in my mind, bypassing my ears entirely, a low hum that vibrated deep within my bones. The first time I felt this, I was getting the demon mark. The mark of a fate already signed. I wanted to disappear.

*"Do not despair, Elias,"* it said. The words were clear, precise, yet imbued with an ancient sorrow. *"Your path has been fraught with hardship, and your choices have led you to this point... but it is not the end."*

I stared, dumbfounded. How could it know my name? How could it know anything about me and my history? It felt like it was seeing me in a flashback, when I first signed the pact. Or even better, when I was just a rookie mage trying to discover the secrets that the world held, before the need for revenge.

*"The power Keala wields is but a shadow of the true Soul Weaving,"* the voice continued, its tone laced with regret. *"A distortion, a perversion of its intended purpose. It is a dangerous path she treads, one that will ultimately lead to destruction.”*

I felt a flicker of hope ignite within me, a tiny spark in the vast darkness of my despair. If what it said was true, then maybe, just *maybe*, there was still a chance to salvage this mess.

Lyra, however, wasn't convinced. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice still trembling slightly. "What do you want?"

The figure turned its attention to her for a fleeting moment, its gaze softening slightly. *"Patience, child,"* it said. *"All will be revealed in time. My purpose is to guide Elias, to help him understand the true potential of Soul Weaving."* It then focused back on me. Why does it need me even?

The spectral figure floated closer, its light intensifying, bathing me in its ethereal glow. The heat rising made a horrible contrast with the previously icy room.

*"I offer you a choice, Elias,"* it said, its voice resonating with power. *"Embrace the true power of Soul Weaving, learn to mend the fractured realities caused by Keala's actions, and restore balance to this realm... or succumb to despair and allow the darkness to consume all that you hold dear."*

The weight of those words crashed down on me, heavier than any spell I had ever cast. This wasn't just about saving my soul anymore. It was about saving the entire kingdom. The same, old kingdom that everyone uses as a justification for their acts.

*"The path is arduous,"* the figure continued, its voice unwavering. *"It will be fraught with temptation, danger, and the constant threat of corruption. But it offers a chance for redemption, a chance to become something more than a vengeful mage consumed by hatred."* He was looking right at me. As if he knew whatever my plans were.

I looked over at Lyra, her face etched with worry. Her gaze seemed to plead with me to choose wisely, to consider the consequences of my actions. But she remained silent, understanding that this was a decision I had to make on my own. One more problem to solve on my own, as usual.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. The choice was terrifying, but the alternative was unthinkable. I couldn’t just stand by and watch the kingdom crumble. Especially for one revenge. Even under a demon pact, there are some things that you just don't do.

I opened my eyes, meeting the spectral figure's gaze with newfound resolve. "I accept," I said, my voice firm despite the tremor in my hands. "I'll do whatever it takes." Was this a test?

A wave of energy washed over me, coursing through my veins, revitalizing my weary body. The spectral figure seemed to brighten, its light intensifying, bathing the temple in an even more ethereal glow. It was like a scene from a fairy tale.

*"Then prepare yourself, Elias,"* it said, its voice filled with anticipation. *"The journey ahead will be long and challenging, but with dedication and unwavering will, you may yet succeed."*

The figure began to fade slightly, its form becoming more translucent, more ephemeral. At the same time, the ancient runes etched into the temple walls began to glow with an inner light, responding to my choice, to the awakening of Soul Weaving within me. Did it wanted for this all along?

Lyra stepped back, her sword still drawn, but her expression softened. She seemed to sense the shift in the atmosphere, the change that was taking place within me. She was no longer my warden, but my aid. That's new.

"What do I need to do?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

The figure didn't answer directly. Instead, it simply gestured towards the center of the temple, towards a raised platform where the energy seemed to converge. The place where Keala was trying to summon demons.

"Be still," the figure said. "Close your eyes and open your mind. Let the knowledge flow through you. Let the Soul Weaving guide you."

And then, with a final surge of energy, the spectral figure vanished, its light fading into the very stones of the temple. I was left alone with Lyra, the glowing runes, and the heavy weight of my decision.

Lyra moves toward Keala "Alright, I'll stand guard. If anything comes here, I am dealing with it"

I was ready to face it. There was no point in denying it. "Thanks, Lyra. I may take a short while, so feel free to take a sit, if you want"

Then, as Lyra started getting to the temple hall doors, I sat myself in the pedestal Keala was once in, closed my eyes, and waited for the inevitable flood of knowledge, memories and everything else. It was time.

The darkness starts embracing me, but I am feeling weirdly calm.