Chapter 12: Lost And Found

Prince Mehrajan and Princess Amani walked in silence, the weight of their situation pressing heavily on their hearts. Without Sylvius’s keen sense of direction and Toba’s sharp instincts, they were like ships lost at sea, drifting aimlessly in a vast ocean of uncertainty.

“They’ll be all right, Mehrajan,” Amani said softly, as if reading his thoughts. Her voice held a hint of doubt, though she tried to mask it. “Sylvius and Toba are strong. They can take care of themselves.”

Mehrajan nodded, but the reassurance did little to ease the knot in his stomach. The forest seemed to close in around them, the air thick with tension. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sent a jolt of unease through him. They were alone now, truly alone, with no guidance, no clear path to follow.

As they continued through the thickening woods, a memory stirred in Amani’s mind, something she had heard long ago. “Mehrajan,” she began hesitantly, “do you remember the rumors about the Sahir? The stories of a powerful sorcerer, shunned by society, living in exile somewhere in the caves?”

Mehrajan stopped, considering her words. “The Sahir… Yes, I remember. They say he was cast out, deemed too dangerous to live among others. He was rumored to reside in a cave, hidden away from the world.” With renewed determination, they set off again, searching the forest for any sign of caves, any indication that they were on the right path. Hours passed, the darkness growing deeper, but they pressed on, driven by the faint hope that the Sahir might be their salvation.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they stumbled upon a hidden path leading up a rocky hillside. At its end loomed the entrance to a cave, its mouth wide and dark, as if inviting them into the unknown. A chill ran down Amani’s spine as she peered inside, the shadows within seeming to shift and whisper secrets she could not understand.

The air inside was cold, and the dim light from outside quickly faded as they ventured deeper. As they rounded a corner, the narrow passageway opened into a larger chamber, and there they saw them—statues. Countless statues of people, their faces frozen in expressions of fear, shock, and despair. Some were intact, others were broken, their pieces scattered across the stone floor. The silence in the cave was oppressive, the statues standing as silent sentinels, watching the intruders with empty eyes.

In the dimly lit chamber, a haunting collection of statues stood in eerie silence. Each one bore the unmistakable likeness of Solar—yet something was wrong. Each statue was a fractured reflection, a piece of the puzzle, each capturing a different feature as if torn from the whole. One statue gazed with Solar’s piercing eyes, while another clenched a fist imbued with his strength, and yet another wore his defiant expression.

And so, the statues stood, a silent testament to the Sahir’s failure, their cold, lifeless eyes locked in an eternal gaze.