The air inside the sanctuary was unlike anything Eryx had felt before—thick with an ancient energy, vibrating with the echoes of forgotten gods. As he and Lorian stepped through the Gates of Varnor, the oppressive weight that had followed them seemed to lift, only to be replaced by a subtle, humming power that coursed through the stone walls.
"This place... it feels alive," Eryx murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes darted around, taking in the towering columns and intricate carvings that lined the sanctuary. They depicted gods in battle, gods in creation, gods in despair. Each figure seemed to tell a story, and each story felt heavy with meaning he couldn't yet understand.
Lorian nodded, his face grim. "It is alive. The sanctuary draws from the remnants of divine energy left by the gods themselves. Every step we take brings us closer to the heart of that power. But don't be fooled—this place is as dangerous as it is sacred."
Eryx's stomach churned. The fight with the cloaked figure on the bridge had left him physically exhausted and mentally shaken. Even though they had won, barely escaping with their lives, the encounter had reinforced the grim reality of their journey. There was no turning back, only forward into deeper uncertainty.
Ahead, the path split into three different tunnels, each vanishing into a yawning darkness. Lorian paused, frowning.
"Which way?" Eryx asked, glancing nervously at the tunnels.
Lorian hesitated. "The trials begin here. We're no longer just walking a path; the sanctuary itself is testing us now."
As if on cue, a low, rumbling voice seemed to echo from the walls themselves, ancient and disembodied. "He who seeks the divine must prove his worth. The heart of the sanctuary awaits, but only the chosen may pass."
The voice sent a chill down Eryx's spine. His palms began to sweat, and he swallowed hard. "I... I don't know if I'm ready."
Lorian placed a firm hand on Eryx's shoulder, his eyes steady. "No one is ever truly ready. But you don't have a choice now."
Eryx closed his eyes, steadying his breathing. He had already come this far—there was no room for doubt anymore. He looked at the three tunnels again, each one darker and more foreboding than the last. Something inside him stirred, an instinct, or perhaps a whisper from whatever divine blood flowed through his veins.
Without thinking, he stepped toward the center tunnel.
Lorian said nothing, only followed as they plunged deeper into the heart of the sanctuary, into the unknown trials that awaited them.