Lost Obsidian: Elena Reyes Adventures, #2

By Seosamh Udar

The echoes of Paititi have barely faded, but for Dr. Elena Reyes and her team, the adventure is far from over. Thrust into the role of guardians after surviving the Lost City, they are bound by secrets and changed by the ancient energies they encountered. Their fragile peace is shattered by the discovery of a new enigma: a humming obsidian amulet, intricately carved with symbols both alien and disturbingly familiar. Dubbed the 'Voice of Night' by fragmented legends, it points towards an even older, more dangerous mystery – *Al-Qaraseen*, the Obsidian Labyrinth, hidden deep within the scorched sands and resonant canyons of Algeria's Tassili n'Ajjer plateau.

This is no Paititi. The Labyrinth operates on different principles, powered not by bio-energy or temporal fields, but by the fundamental sonic resonance of the planet itself – a force capable of shaping reality, storing millennia of knowledge, and unleashing catastrophe if misused. To navigate this perilous acoustic landscape, Elena, Adrian Blackwood, and Isabella Morales must seek out the only known expert: Dr. Kaelen Al-Masri, a brilliant but disgraced sonic archaeologist living in self-imposed exile, haunted by a past expedition that ended in tragedy and silence.

But they are not alone in their quest. The Shadow Conclave, an ancient and ruthless organization dedicated to controlling or eradicating such powerful sites, is aware of the amulet's awakening. They dispatch their most chillingly efficient operative, Silas Vane, to intercept the team, silence Kaelen, and ensure the Labyrinth's song remains dormant forever.

Hunted across the breathtaking, brutal expanse of the Sahara, the team must race against Vane while confronting their own internal challenges. Adrian grapples with the unpredictable power stirring within him, a legacy of his Paititi lineage amplified by the Labyrinth's hum. Isabella walks a dangerous tightrope, guarding a devastating secret connection to their enemies that could shatter the team's fragile trust. And Elena carries the immense burden of leadership, trying to navigate not only the resonant maze but the complex loyalties and hidden agendas threatening to tear them apart.

From the whispering canyons where sound itself holds secrets, to the shifting obsidian corridors designed to break the mind, they must push deeper towards the Labyrinth's core. Can they decipher the planet's oldest song and understand the Core's true purpose? Can they harmonize their own fractured abilities and loyalties to protect this ancient wonder? Or will Silas Vane and the Shadow Conclave succeed in their gambit, silencing the echo of creation and the guardians who dared to listen?

In "Obsidian," the adventure escalates, plunging Elena Reyes and her companions into a thrilling race against time where ancient conspiracies, reality-bending sonic power, and personal betrayals collide in the resonant heart of the Sahara.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seosamh Udar
• Release date: Apr 25, 2025
• ISBN: 9798231149827

Seosamh Udar

Seosamh Udar is a storyteller with a passion for weaving magical worlds filled with adventure and heartwarming friendships. Inspired by nature, fantasy, and the power of imagination, Seosamh creates stories that captivate readers of all ages. Through tales of courage, unity, and the bonds that tie us together, Seosamh invites readers to explore enchanted realms and timeless journeys.

Book preview

Weaver's Gambit

The chamber breathed silence. Where once the Heart of Paititi had thrummed with contained cosmic energy, now only stillness reigned, heavy and watchful in the wake of sacrifice and stabilization. Luca Alvarez stood alone amidst the faint glyphs still glowing on the sealed dais, the air cool against his skin. Yet, the form of Luca was merely a vessel. Beneath the weathered facade, an internal luminescence pulsed, ancient and profound – the quiet power of a guardian whose vigil stretched across centuries.

He extended a hand, not towards the sealed Heart, but to the seemingly inert stone of the chamber wall. Invisible patterns, lines of connection woven through the earth itself, shimmered beneath his touch, responding to the essence within him. He was more than Luca, the guide; more than the sentinel of this single, sacred place. He was a node, a confluence point, feeling the subtle vibrations ripple through the vast, hidden network that linked Paititi to its counterparts across the globe.

And the network was disturbed.

A new resonance, sharp and clear, had recently echoed through the ancient pathways – triggered not by Paititi's energy, but by something different. Something unearthed far away. The Obsidian Amulet.

They know, a voice whispered, not spoken aloud, but resonating directly from the stone against Luca's palm – the thought-voice of Amaru, elder of the tribe, connected through means older than ritual. The Shadow Conclave felt the shift when the Heart was calmed. They felt the new echo when the Obsidian shard... surfaced.

Luca inclined his head, his own thoughts a low hum against the stone. Its discovery was... accelerated. The amulet guides them now – Reyes, Blackwood, Morales. They are drawn towards the desert song.

And the Conclave's Weaver? Amaru's concern was a cold vibration. Silas Vane. He moves already. He believes he maintains balance, but he seeks only silence, control.

He walks the shadowed paths toward the Tassili n'Ajjer, Luca confirmed, his ethereal gaze fixed on the patterns only he could see.

"He must not reach Al-Qaraseen first, Amaru. The Obsidian Labyrinth... its nature is not energy, not temporal flux. It is resonance. Sound. The frequencies that bind the very structure of reality. His fingers traced a complex spiral that flared with dark light. In Vane's hands, it becomes a tool for absolute silence, absolute order – a suffocation."

Elena Reyes carries the Paititi spark, the potential to harmonize, Amaru stated. And Adrian Blackwood... the sacrifice awakened something within him. The echo of his lineage grows stronger. They are intrinsically linked to this.

They are, Luca agreed. But Vane sees only the chaos they represent. He will try to contain them, sever their connection, ensure the Labyrinth remains dormant. He pulled his hand back, the form of Luca Alvarez becoming more solid, the inner light dimming to a banked coal. "The Weavers of the Conclave fear disruption above all else. They cannot comprehend that some songs must be sung."

He turned from the wall, the silence of the chamber settling around him once more, now tinged with urgency.

The guardians of Paititi have emerged, and the Conclave stirs from its ancient slumber. A race has begun, Amaru.

The chamber offered no reply, only the profound quiet of a world holding its breath, listening for the first dangerous, discordant notes of a symphony about to begin in the heart of the Sahara. The Obsidian Labyrinth was calling, and the players, knowing or unknowing, were already moving towards its resonant, perilous core.

Ink

The lamp on Elena Reyes’s desk cast long, searching shadows across the room, turning familiar stacks of research papers and labelled artifacts into miniature, mysterious landscapes. Dust motes danced in the beam, silent constellations in the quiet universe of her study. Before her lay not academic treatises, but pages filled with frantic sketches – symbols that pulsed with phantom energy in her memory, crumbling architecture reclaimed by impossible foliage, the haunting, knowing eyes of Amaru. Fragments of a truth too vast, too dangerous for the world, now being carefully woven into the protective tapestry of fiction.

Elena leaned back, the pen resting idly between her ink-stained fingers. Her gaze drifted to a framed photograph tucked amidst the clutter – her father, younger, grinning beside a newly unearthed stele, oblivious to the obsessive path that lay ahead. Paititi.

The name itself was a sigh, an ache, a responsibility. It was behind them, veiled once more, yet it lingered.

A low, persistent hum beneath the surface of her thoughts, a warmth that sometimes flared unexpectedly along the intricate blue lines tattooed on her forearm – a permanent mark of her heritage, her burden, her connection. She could close her eyes and almost feel the jungle breathing around her, smell the damp earth and ethereal blossoms of the hidden city.

A soft knock, barely a courtesy, preceded Adrian Blackwood's entrance. He didn't quite move like the Adrian she’d first ventured into the Amazon with. There was a quiet centeredness now, a fluid grace that seemed less practiced charm and more an intrinsic part of him, a subtle resonance left by his impossible passage through the rift, his merging with Paititi's energy, his return. He carried two steaming mugs, navigating the organized chaos of her study with an ease that spoke of familiarity.

He placed one mug beside her manuscript, the scent of strong coffee a welcome intrusion. His eyes, retaining their familiar spark, now held a new depth, a stillness that mirrored the hidden pools of the Amazon.

Staring a hole through the past again, Elena? His voice was low, and just for a fraction of a second, Elena thought she heard that faint, otherworldly resonance that sometimes colored his words, like a chord struck miles away yet felt deep in the bones.

She offered a wan smile, her fingers tracing the spiral glyph she'd just sketched – a symbol from the Paititi Heart chamber.

Just trying to capture it. Before the details blur, before it feels... less real.

It won't fade, Adrian countered softly, his gaze knowing. He leaned against the edge of her desk, crossing his arms.

Not Paititi. Its echo is too strong. We carry it, don't we? He glanced towards her arm, then quickly away, a silent acknowledgment of the changes in both of them. He hesitated, then straightened, a different light entering his eyes – the familiar glint of adventure, tempered now with something else. Purpose.

Speaking of echoes...

He reached into the inner pocket of his worn leather jacket and produced something unexpected: a small box, crafted from a dark, unfamiliar wood, inlaid with tarnished silver filigree that hinted at age and artistry from a culture she didn't immediately recognize. It felt out of place in his hands, too delicate, too deliberate for the man who often relied on instinct and improvisation.

Found something, he said, his voice regaining some of its old mischievousness, though the underlying seriousness remained. He placed the box on the desk, nudging aside a stack of Paititi translations. Something I think... well, something you need to see.

Elena eyed the box, then Adrian. Another 'obscure dealer'? she asked, a hint of tired irony in her tone, recalling his initial, less-than-truthful explanations back before Paititi had stripped away their pretenses.

Adrian had the grace to look slightly sheepish. "Something like that. Let's just say my... former circles occasionally yield unexpected fruit. This one felt different, Elena. Important. He gestured towards it. Open it."

Her curiosity piqued, overriding her weariness. She carefully lifted the lid. Nestled inside on a bed of faded velvet lay an amulet. It wasn't gold or crystal like the artifacts of Paititi. This was fashioned from a material that seemed to drink the lamplight – a stone like polished darkness, obsidian perhaps, yet with an unnerving depth. Intricate carvings covered its surface, symbols that felt simultaneously alien and hauntingly familiar, reminiscent of Paititi glyphs but with a starker, more geometric precision. As she looked, she felt it – not a pulse of energy like Paititi's tech, but a low, almost subliminal hum, a vibration that resonated faintly in the air, in the wood of the desk, deep within her own bones.

Her breath caught. She reached out, her fingertip tracing one of the sharp, angular carvings. The hum intensified slightly at her touch, the obsidian surface strangely cool. Adrian... she whispered, her academic mind racing, cataloging, comparing, while another part of her, the part touched by Paititi, simply knew. This isn't Paititi. But it's connected. Deeply.

Adrian nodded slowly, his gaze locked onto the amulet, his earlier excitement replaced by an intense focus.

More than connected, I think. The dealer mentioned whispers... legends from a different part of the world. A place supposedly guarded not by energy, but by sound. Resonance. He looked up, meeting her wide eyes. "He called it Al-Qaraseen. The Obsidian Labyrinth."

Obsidian. The word hung in the air, heavy with implication. Another lost city. Another impossible journey. Another set of secrets waiting to be unearthed, guarded by forces unknown. The weariness Elena had felt moments ago evaporated, replaced by the familiar, insistent thrum of discovery, the undeniable pull of the mystery. Paititi hadn't been the end. It had only been the first note.

Where? she asked, her voice regaining its strength, the single word encompassing a thousand questions.

Adrian leaned closer, the lamplight catching the new depth in his eyes. Deep in the Sahara. Tassili n'Ajjer plateau. He smiled then, a true, unrestrained smile that reached his eyes, full of shared understanding and the thrill of the precipice.

Looks like we're going to need warmer clothes. And maybe, he added, glancing at the faintly humming obsidian amulet, earplugs.

Resonant Clue

The low, resonant hum emanating from the obsidian amulet seemed to fill the sudden quiet in Elena's study. It wasn't a sound one heard with the ears alone; it was a vibration felt in the sternum, a frequency that seemed to subtly rearrange the very air molecules in the room. Elena stared at it, fascinated and deeply unsettled. Paititi's artifacts had pulsed with light and tangible energy; this felt different – deeper, more primal, like the ancient vibration of the earth itself.

The Sahara? Elena finally murmured, the name evoking images of desolate beauty and unforgiving heat, a stark contrast to the humid embrace of the Amazon. A Labyrinth made of... obsidian?

And guarded by sound, according to the whispers, Adrian confirmed, his hand hovering near the box, though not quite touching the amulet again. "Resonance, harmonics... things I barely understand. But the dealer, shady as he was, seemed genuinely spooked. Said the region is taboo, even among those who aren't afraid to tread where they shouldn't. Al-Qaraseen. He rolled the name on his tongue. It sounds old."

Older than Paititi? Elena wondered aloud, her mind already constructing timelines, cultural overlaps, technological divergences.

Just then, Isabella Morales appeared in the doorway, tablet already awake and glowing in her hands. She stopped short, her sharp eyes immediately fixing on the open box on Elena's desk, then flickering between Elena's intense focus and Adrian's charged stillness. Okay, what did I miss? she asked, her tone wary but curious. I felt a weird energy spike through my basic perimeter scans – not EM, not Paititi-spectrum... something else entirely. Don't tell me one of your souvenirs decided to wake up.

Adrian grinned. "Not one of our souvenirs. A new one. He gestured to the box. Meet the potential key to the Obsidian Labyrinth."

Isabella's eyebrows shot up. "Labyrinth? Obsidian Labyrinth? Where did—" She cut herself off, stepping fully into the room, her usual pragmatic approach momentarily overshadowed by sheer curiosity. She circled the desk, her gaze glued to the amulet.

Whoa. Okay, that is... different. She pulled out a compact, multifaceted scanner from her belt pouch, its lens whirring softly as she activated it.

Careful, Izzy, Elena cautioned. It... reacts.

Isabella nodded curtly, her fingers flying across her tablet as she linked it to the scanner. Getting that. Readings are off the charts, but not in any way I recognize. The resonant frequency is incredibly complex, multi-layered... almost like a chord, but shifting constantly. And it's definitely interacting with the ambient background noise, modulating it. She zoomed in on the amulet with the scanner.

"The material... it looks like obsidian, but the density and energy absorption properties are... anomalous. It's absorbing nearly all ambient light and energy, yet emitting this specific resonant frequency. It's like a sonic black hole that sings."

Can you trace the frequency signature? Adrian asked, leaning closer. Pinpoint an origin?

Trying, Isabella muttered, frowning at her tablet screen.

It's not like Paititi's energy, which left traceable exotic particle trails. This is... more fundamental. Like tuning into a specific broadcast wavelength that permeates everything, but is usually lost in the noise. Give me a second... She cross-referenced the unique frequency signature against geological resonance maps, satellite acoustic data archives, and obscure linguistic databases correlating sound patterns with place names. Lines of code scrolled rapidly; maps overlaid and shifted.

After a tense minute, she let out a low whistle. Okay. Wow. There are faint harmonic echoes detected globally, minuscule, usually dismissed as seismic noise or atmospheric phenomena. But they all seem to originate from, or converge towards, one specific, largely unmapped region. A satellite image filled her tablet screen – a vast, formidable expanse of rock and sand. Tassili n'Ajjer plateau. Deep Sahara, Algeria. Specifically, a canyon system known locally by various names, all translating roughly to 'Resonant,' 'Singing,' or 'Glass' maze.

Al-Qaraseen, Elena breathed, the confirmation sending a fresh wave of conviction through her.

Exactly, Isabella confirmed. "And get this – searching academic databases for Tassili n'Ajjer and sonic phenomena or resonance archaeology pulls up exactly one recurring, albeit largely discredited, name. She tapped the screen, displaying a grainy photo of a man with intense eyes and prematurely grey hair, standing beside a weathered desert vehicle. Dr. Kaelen Al-Masri. Specialist in pre-dynastic Saharan cultures and archaeoacoustics. Career went down in flames about fifteen years