Chapter 7: Through the Door of Time
The silver-lit void shimmered like liquid glass as Isen, Orien, and the last surviving scout walked across the floating stones. Each step echoed like thunder, though there was no sky, no ground—only the quiet hum of energy and time stretching thin.
They stood now before a smaller door. It glowed white-hot, humming with a frequency that made their bones ache. The word etched across its surface burned with brilliance:
"TRUTH."
Orien looked to Isen. "Are you sure?"
"No," Isen admitted. "But this door didn't appear for nothing."
He reached forward—and pushed it open.
---
A blinding light swallowed them whole.
A storm of air and fire howled around them, dragging their bodies downward—no falling, no flying—just a plunge through time itself.
When the spinning stopped, they hit solid ground.
Hard.
Dust rose around them. Somewhere nearby, a bell tolled once, twice, thrice.
Orien groaned and pulled himself up. "Where are we?"
Isen blinked.
They were in a stone alleyway… cobbled streets beneath them, tall towers above. The smell of smoke, sweat, and incense filled the air. The buildings were old—older than any still standing in Delhelm.
They had returned to a living version of their kingdom.
And at its center flew a crimson flag embroidered with a golden serpent.
Orien froze. "That's Theodore's crest."
The scout stepped forward, breath shallow. "That's impossible. He's… he's been dead for years."
Isen looked up at the banners and the guards marching in perfect lines. At the townspeople kneeling in fear as black-armored knights rode past on ghostly steeds.
This wasn't a vision.
This wasn't a dream.
They had stepped into the past.
---
They moved cautiously, sticking to the shadows.
Children stood barefoot on corners, selling flower petals to passersby.
Old women whispered warnings into their shawls.
And posters lined every wall with bold, cursed words:
> "Glory to King Theodore, the Immortal Flame."
"Obey. Or Burn."
"What are we doing here?" Orien whispered.
Isen clenched his jaw. "We're seeing how it all began. Maybe… maybe this is how we stop what's happening in our present."
Suddenly, the scout yanked them behind a pillar. "Look!"
From the steps of the temple, a younger version of King Theodore emerged. Clad in dark robes lined with gold, he was tall, powerful, his eyes aflame with cruel intelligence.
In his hand—a box of blackened seeds.
Isen's eyes widened. "It's them. The virus seeds."
They watched as Theodore knelt before the temple altar, muttering a dark incantation. The wind picked up unnaturally. The torches flared blue.
And Theodore cut his palm.
Letting blood drip over the seeds.
> "If they will not worship me in life," he growled, "then they will remember me in death. Let this kingdom rot without me, let their bones drink my anger."
The seeds pulsed, absorbing his blood, before vanishing into smoke and dispersing into the wind.
Orien swallowed hard. "He cursed the land himself…"
"And timed it to awaken long after his death," Isen said grimly. "He wanted to rule even from the grave."
Just then, Theodore turned—as if he'd felt them watching.
His eyes stared directly at Isen.
For a single terrifying second, it felt like time cracked.
And then—
Trumpets blared. Guards shouted.
"INTRUDERS! MAGES! SEIZE THEM!"
Isen grabbed Orien. "RUN!"
They bolted through the alleyways, the scout right behind them. Arrows whizzed past, striking walls. Civilians screamed and scattered. Flaming orbs lit up the sky as Theodore's mages gave chase.
They ducked into a butcher's cellar and slammed the hatch behind them.
All panting. All wide-eyed.
"We need to get out of here," the scout gasped. "We need to go back."
But the door had vanished.
Isen stood, gripping the edge of a stone table. "We can't go back… not yet. Not until we see how to undo this."
---
Meanwhile, back in the present—
Ivy stared at the cursed plant growing in the throne room. It had reached the base of the royal altar.
And now it was whispering.
A voice, soft and malevolent, murmured:
> "Your king is lost in time.
Your son will be next.
And Delhelm will belong to me again…"
Ivy raised her hand—and the necklace around her neck lit up with blinding power.
> "Not while I live," she whispered.