Beyond the forests of Eldoria, hidden beneath the roots of time, lies a gate—a door between worlds that was sealed long before men first carved their names into history. The stories of its existence have faded into whispers, myths lost in the passage of centuries. But I, Merlin, have walked this land longer than most, and I know some myths are not myths at all. Tonight, the gate stirs once more, and what lies beyond threatens to awaken… unless I stop it.

The Forgotten Gate of Eldoria 

The wind carried a whisper through the trees as I reached the clearing, the scent of damp earth and old magic thick in the air.

It had been a thousand years since I last stood before the Eldorian Gate.

And now, it was awake again.

I traced my fingers along the worn runes etched into the stone, their glow barely perceptible beneath centuries of moss and decay. Once, this gate had been a pathway—a bridge between our world and the realms beyond. A door that should have never been built.

But men, in their endless hunger for power, had opened it.

And something had come through.

A deep hum pulsed through the air, growing stronger with each passing moment. The runes flickered, their old magic struggling to contain whatever lay beyond the veil.

I closed my eyes, listening.

And there it was—a voice, distant but growing closer.

“Let us through, Merlin.”

The past was stirring.

And the gate was no longer content to remain forgotten.

The voice drifted through the trees, neither male nor female, neither young nor old. It was a voice of many voices, layered upon one another like echoes of forgotten things.

“Let us through, Merlin.”

I tightened my grip on my staff, feeling the weight of time pressing down on me. This gate should have remained sealed forever, its power lost to history.

Yet now, after a thousand years, it had begun to stir once more.

The Gatekeeper’s Warning

A sudden gust of wind sent leaves spiraling through the air, the forest shuddering as if the trees themselves feared what was about to happen.

Then, from the shifting mist, she appeared.

The Gatekeeper.

Tall and draped in robes woven from the fabric of time itself, her face was hidden beneath a hood of deep midnight blue. Her eyes, however, burned through the darkness—silver, luminous, and filled with ancient knowing.

“You should not have come back, Merlin.” Her voice was steady, but beneath it, I sensed unease.

I faced her with calm resolve. “The gate is waking. You know that as well as I do.”

She took a slow step forward. The very air shimmered around her, warping and bending. She did not belong to this world, not entirely.

“It is waking because something is calling it,” she said.

I frowned. “Who?”

The Gatekeeper hesitated.

Then, she lifted her hand—and from the air itself, a vision formed.

I saw them.

Figures cloaked in black, moving through the ruins of a forgotten kingdom. They gathered in a circle, chanting in a language older than the stars. And at their center, an artifact pulsed—a fragment of the Eldorian Gate, torn from its slumber.

The air turned cold.

I knew what they were.

“The Order of the Rift,” I muttered.

The Gatekeeper nodded grimly. “They seek to undo what you did, Merlin. They wish to open the gate once more.”

A terrible certainty settled in my chest.

If the Order of the Rift succeeded, the consequences would be catastrophic.

The gate did not lead to another place.

It led to another existence.

And what lurked beyond was never meant to set foot in our world again.

The Gathering Storm

The runes on the gate flickered brighter, the magic within growing unstable.

I placed my palm against the cold stone, whispering an incantation to reinforce the seal—but it was like trying to mend a crumbling dam while the river was already breaking through.

Time was running out.

I turned to the Gatekeeper. “Where are they?”

She met my gaze. “The ruins of Vael’Tharis. They are performing the ritual tonight.”

I cursed under my breath. Vael’Tharis—the lost city of the Eldorian scholars. A place abandoned for centuries, buried in shadow and time.

If the Order of the Rift had chosen it as their site…

Then they were already deep into the ritual.

The gate shuddered, the air trembling with unseen power.

“Go, Merlin.” The Gatekeeper’s voice was quiet, but firm. “This time, you must stop them before it is too late.”

I nodded. “I will.”

And with that, I turned and vanished into the night—heading for the ruins of Vael’Tharis, where the past was about to collide with the present.

The Ruins of Vael’Tharis

By the time I reached the ruins, the sky was thick with swirling clouds, illuminated only by the eerie glow of arcane sigils carved into the stone. The Order of the Rift had wasted no time.

I could hear their voices, chanting in a tongue older than the world itself. The ground beneath me vibrated, pulsing like a heartbeat.

I moved swiftly, keeping to the shadows as I surveyed the ritual site.

At the center of the ruins stood the Riftstone—a monolithic slab of obsidian covered in glowing runes. Suspended above it, crackling with unnatural energy, was a fragment of the Eldorian Gate.

It pulsed in sync with the gate in the forest, its power reaching across the miles, forming a bridge between this world and the unknown.

And then I saw him.

The leader of the Order.

Aldric Vael.

Once a scholar, now something far worse. His form was twisted by the magic he had sought to command, his veins pulsing with energy not meant for mortal men.

And as he raised his arms, the fabric of reality itself began to tear open.

A Battle Against the Rift

I did not wait.

With a whispered incantation, I struck first, unleashing a wave of energy that shattered the nearest sigil, disrupting the flow of the ritual. The ground trembled, and the Order’s chant faltered.

Aldric turned sharply, his burning gaze locking onto me.

“Merlin,” he hissed, his voice layered with something inhuman. “You cannot stop what has already begun!”

I stepped forward, my staff glowing with golden light. “You are meddling with forces you do not understand, Aldric.”

His laughter was wrong—an echo of too many voices speaking at once. “I understand more than you think.”

He raised his hand—and the very air cracked open.

The Rift began to form.

A void, dark and endless, swirled above the ruins, tendrils of energy spiraling outward. Something was coming through.

I had no choice.

I slammed my staff into the ground, summoning a counterforce. Light collided with darkness, the energies clashing in an explosion that sent shockwaves through the ruins.

The cultists scattered, their ritual collapsing, but Aldric remained standing.

And from the Rift, a shape began to emerge.

Not a man.

Not a beast.

But something that did not belong.

A creature of shifting shadows, its form never settling, its eyes infinite voids that saw beyond time.

It reached for the world—and I struck.

Sealing the Rift

With the full force of my magic, I lashed out, severing the creature’s connection to our reality. The Rift screamed, the very air howling as it fought against me.

Aldric staggered, his form cracking, his body unable to withstand the force of the collapsing ritual.

“NO!” he shrieked, trying to hold the rift open.

But it was too late.

With one final surge of power, I sealed the tear.

The Rift vanished.

The ruins fell silent.

And Aldric… was gone.

The Aftermath

I stood in the center of the ruins, breathing heavily, my staff still glowing faintly. The night air was still, the corruption wiped clean.

The Order was broken. The Rift was sealed.

And the Eldorian Gate, though still powerful, would remain closed… for now.

But as I turned away, something in the wind whispered my name.

A reminder that some doors never stay closed forever.

The ruins of Vael’Tharis were silent, save for the distant echoes of power fading into the night. The Rift was sealed, its monstrous presence vanquished. The cultists of the Order of the Rift had either fled or perished, and Aldric Vael, their corrupted leader, had been consumed by the very forces he sought to control.

And yet… I did not feel victorious.

The wind shifted around me, whispering through the broken stones, carrying a voice not of this world.

“It is not over.”

I turned sharply, scanning the darkness. The remnants of the collapsed ritual still crackled faintly in the air, but something lingered—a disturbance in the fabric of reality, a presence that had not been entirely banished.

The Eldorian Gate had been calling to something.

And though I had sealed the Rift, I could still feel it watching me from beyond.

The Fracture in Reality

I traced a circle in the dirt with the end of my staff, whispering an incantation to reveal any lingering tears in the veil between worlds. The circle flared with silver light, illuminating the unseen threads of energy that still pulsed in the air.

And there—at the center of the ruins—I saw it.

A fracture.

Small, nearly imperceptible, but present nonetheless. Like a crack in glass, it shimmered with an otherworldly glow, shifting as if something on the other side was pressing against it.

This was not over.

The Rift had been closed, but the door was still weak. And something wanted in.

I knelt beside the fracture, studying it carefully. This was no ordinary tear in reality—it was a wound, an aftereffect of the cult’s failed ritual. And if I did not fully mend it, the Order’s work could continue from the other side.

The Gatekeeper’s warning echoed in my mind.

“This time, you must stop them before it is too late.”

I wasn’t finished yet.

The Shadow Beyond the Rift

A sudden gust of wind roared through the ruins, sending a cold shiver down my spine. The temperature plummeted, and the air grew thick—like stepping into a grave.

Then—a voice.

“You are too late, Merlin.”

It came from everywhere and nowhere, the voice of something that should not be here.

Slowly, I turned.

And there—standing at the edge of the ruins—was Aldric Vael.

But it was not him. Not truly.

His form was warped, his body flickering between the man he had once been and the thing he had become. His flesh was cracked like porcelain, and his eyes—black as the void beyond time—stared through me.

He had been taken.

No, worse—he had become one with the Rift.

“You think you have won?” Aldric’s voice twisted, overlapping with something deeper, something ancient. “You only delayed the inevitable.”

The fracture behind me shuddered—widening slightly.

I felt the weight of something immense pressing against it, something waiting to break through.

I gritted my teeth. “You gave yourself to the Rift, Aldric. You are no longer a man—you are nothing but a puppet now.”

A smile curled across his ruined lips. “And yet, I still stand.”

With a snap of his fingers, the ruins trembled.

And from the shadows—they came.

The Riftborn

Dark figures slithered into existence, their forms shifting between human and monstrous, flickering like images caught between realities.

The Riftborn.

Creatures who existed between worlds, neither alive nor dead, neither here nor gone. The remnants of those who had once sought power beyond the veil—and had been consumed by it.

They lunged.

I barely had time to react before the first one swiped at me, its arm elongating unnaturally, fingers stretching like tendrils of darkness.

I countered with magic, blasting it backward with a surge of energy, but more followed, crawling through the fracture, their inky forms twisting and shrieking.

Aldric laughed, his voice a chorus of unnatural sounds.

“You cannot stop what is coming, Merlin.”

I gritted my teeth.

I had to seal the fracture—permanently.

A Battle Between Worlds

The Riftborn came in waves, their distorted figures striking with unnatural speed. I moved quickly, my staff spinning in my hands, weaving magic through the air as I fought them back.

One leapt at me, its mouth splitting open like a void, but I struck it mid-air, sending it screeching back into the darkness. Another lashed out with tendrils of shadow, trying to pull me into the fracture, but I burned through them with a flare of golden light.

Still, they kept coming.

And the fracture kept widening.

Aldric watched, grinning.

“You cannot fight forever, old man.”

He was right.

I had to end this now.

Sealing the Fracture—For Good

Summoning every ounce of magic I had, I thrust my staff into the ground, sending out a shockwave of energy that shattered the nearby Riftborn into dust.

Then, I turned toward the fracture, whispering a spell I had never dared use before.

The Runes of Banishment.

They were not just sealing magic—they were erasure magic. They would not only close the fracture—they would erase it from existence itself.

I began the incantation.

The runes blazed in the air before me, twisting into patterns so ancient they predated even the first kingdoms of men. The fracture screamed, the Riftborn howled—and Aldric’s smile finally disappeared.

“No,” he snarled, realizing too late what I was doing.

He lunged toward me.

But I was ready.

With the final word of the spell, I unleashed the full power of the banishment runes.

Light erupted, consuming the fracture, the Riftborn, and Aldric himself.

He screamed—but it was not a sound of pain.

It was a sound of something being erased from existence.

And then—it was over.

The ruins fell silent.

The air stabilized.

The Eldorian Gate, far away in the forest, ceased its trembling.

The Order of the Rift was no more.

Final Farewell

I stood among the ruins, breathing heavily. The battle had ended—but I knew that this victory came at a cost.

The rift magic had been severed, but severing a connection does not mean it was forgotten.

There would be others who would search for the Eldorian Gate.

Others who would try to open what should never be opened.

But not tonight.

Tonight, the world was safe once more.

I turned away from the ruins, the wind whispering its final farewell.

And I vanished into the night—ready for whatever story time had waiting for me next.

The night air was still.

The ruins of Vael’Tharis lay silent beneath the darkened sky, no longer thrumming with the unnatural energy of the Riftborn. The last echoes of Aldric Vael’s presence had been wiped from existence, his hunger for forbidden power erased along with the fracture he had created.

And yet, as I stood among the broken stones and fading embers of magic, I knew one truth remained.

This was not the last time someone would seek the Eldorian Gate.

The gate itself, deep within the forests beyond, had gone dormant once more. Its ancient power would fade into legend, and men would forget—for a time. But they always return.

They always seek the things that should remain lost.

I sighed, gripping my staff as I turned away from the ruins. The wind shifted, carrying the faintest whisper through the trees. A voice from beyond, lingering just long enough to remind me… that the gate would never truly be forgotten.

But tonight, at least, it would remain closed.

And that was enough.

For now.