Dark, measureless, and old, this closed over him and Lyra as they stood before the figure of shadow. The sorcery of the ages hung in the air, an almost palpable power which crackled with tension. The gentle throbbing of the stone altar at the centre of the room cast mad shadows that were dervished up against the walls. It was a place where time bent to draw them deeper into mystery and challenge.
"Welcome, Rufus," it declared, its voice thundering like awe. "You seek power, but power comes at a cost. Are you prepared to pay?"
Rufus straightened up, the fire of resolve carved into his face. "I did not come here to become Elysara's king. I came here to stop the darkness. Whatever lies ahead, I will face it.".
And there the hilt of her sword was tempered for any signal that should stir it into flowing out. "We have seen enough shadows already," she said. "We cannot turn back now."
The way of his laughter was a rustling of the leaves in an old forgotten forest. "Bravery is noble, but it is no longer enough to save you, my dear," he said. "To tap into energies of Convergence, you must face all your darkest fears and weaknesses.".
He had fought battles, wars; he had battled worse stomach upsets, yet now it seized him with a paroxysm of overwrought anxiety to face his most ghastly fancies. Yet still, the price was too high. If this was what it costed to keep Elysara safe, then he had nothing left.
"Well," Rufus said levelly. "I take your gamble.".
The figure nodded, and air around them rippled. Shadows in the room swirled round as the chamber proved itself to be a whirlpool of swirling darkness. There was tugging at Rufus' core; it felt like his very essence was being torn apart. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again to stand in a huge, desolate landscape under a stormy sky.
Welcome to your trial, his voice echoed around him, though it was nowhere in view. Here you will face the shadows of your past.
Rufus looked around in utter confusion. Beneath him was cracked and barren ground with only bits of shattered memories sprinkled about. Across the distance, moving figures in haze were present, those familiar silhouettes which would be causing his heart to pound with dreadful fear.
And then the howler of a lifetime: "Rufus," bellowed a voice. His father, the Duke of the Verdant Dominion. "You've failed us. You were never worthy of our name."
"No!" Rufus shouted out, instinctively stepping backward. But the illusion closed in more, the voice growing now a chorus of disdain.
"You're weak! You'll never be enough!"
Anger boiled within him, locking himself against the weight of shame that threatened to crush him. He let out a bellow into the void, raw voice full of rage inside it: "I am not weak! I am so much more than what you think of me."
But the shadows only laughed and soon surrounded him with memories of his past failures: failing training sessions, stumbling speeches in diplomatic gatherings, scornful whispers from relatives.
Every second threw a glare and revived him to the pain, daggers to his heart. Inside all this, something else arose: the spark of decision. He recalled his way, battles won and fought, his growth from the banishing period.
"No more!" he muttered to himself, his voice much louder than the noise. "I am not a slave to my past!"
That declaration sent the shadows writhing and wailing as they scattered on the breeze like smoke. The scenery shifted; then suddenly he was standing before the stone altar once again-but this time it was hanging above it, and upon its face there was a look of interest.
"Impressive," the figure said, its tones almost full of respect. "You've passed the first test and come out the better for it. Yet more shadows lie in wait for you."
The scenery changed once again, and Rufus managed to get hardly a word in edgewise. He was sitting in a room that was dark and in which the only noise was the echoes of whispered words. He recognized the voices-they were Lyra, his companion, and their moments of doubt.
"Why did I ever trust him?" Lyra's voice came out pure with doubt. "He's just a lost duke's son. How can he possibly know what it's like to struggle?
Rufus's heart sank. "Lyra, no!" he shouted, but it was lost in the darkness.
He was bombarded with visions of friendship, laced with suspicion, and laughter couldn't gag down doubts. He could feel her uneasiness, the terror she had of him never being good enough for companionship.
"No!" he bellowed, voice cracking off with desperation. "Lyra, you don't even know me. I fought just like you."
But shadows writhed and curved themselves around another memory, struggled to gain view: of his own weakness. The time he'd frozen in place just long enough for danger to arrive, unable to defend her when it mattered most, their final fight.
"You're not worth it," the darkness hissed, taunts spewed at him like venom. "You'll always be a failure."
Words cut, but Rufus pushed forward with the ache through the lines, focusing more on the bond he had made with Lyra. He recalls that she never stopped believing in him; she was his fierce warrior when everything seemed to go all wrong. Together they fought and shared their fears, creating something that seemed strong enough to help heal their past.
"I'll show you what I am made of," he said, tapping the strength of their shared experiences. "I'll fight for you, for Elysara!"
As he spoke, his voice around the room, the shadows began to twist and writhe as they started to clear. The room brightened, and the echo of doubt was swept into the ether.
Rufus stood once more in front of the shadowy figure, his heart thumping away. "What's next?"
His eyes were heavy with sleep, yet in the body, a shiver remained. The boy looked at him with a newfound respect. "You have faced horrors of your past, and you went out unbroken. But there is one last test - the darkness within you."
Rufus felt a shiver in his belly. This is the darkness inside him? He had fought so hard against the shadows, but could it be something inside himself that he wasn't even aware of? The kind of fear, darkness he hadn't confronted?
And before even musing on it, the terrain changed once again, and here he was in some unimaginable void, with not a soul in sight.
The air was heavy, like it could squish him with the weight of a thousand unspoken words.
"Welcome to your mind," continued the figure, and again, only the whisper of the wind. "Here lies your deepest fear—failure, betrayal, and those shadows you keep deep inside.".
He looked around, but the fear was familiar. He'd been in a place many times before, in some of his darkest moments. He closed his eyes, focusing inward on the flickering light within him-it was the feel of the power of the Celestial Convergence.
Dark tendrils started coming out of the ground, curled themselves around his legs, tugging him down, whispering words of despair. "You will never be enough. You will fail. You will lose everything."
"No!"
shouted Rufus on newfound strength. "I refuse to be a prisoner of my fears!
Energy from Convergence overflowed him. Back, he pushed into the dark sinuous tendrils, his will-power an stepping stone springing to beat on the light bursting free within. Light thrust back at the shadows that retreated toward the void.
As if to answer her question, a figure stepped out of the shadows; a face that became all too familiar, and stands there now with his younger self, full of doubt and insecurity. While Rufus looked at that reflection, that lost, worthless boy, his heart felt as though it would break.
"Why should anyone believe in you?" the younger Rufus sneered. "You'll never be anything without your family. You are nothing but a failure!"
Rufus stood up and a sea wave of sympathy crashed over him. "I have learned so much since then. I fought so hard to become what I am today. You will not define me!"
Shadows recoiled as if slapped for the younger Rufus stumbled back as Rufus reached out embracing his own past in understanding. "You are part of me but do not control me. I choose my own path!
He says, after one glance of light, he covered the view digesting shadows and himself in his youth. The warmth cleansed, washing away doubts and fears which kept him in prison for ages.
He stood alone as the light went yet in the emptiness of the figure was to his mind dispersed darkness. He felt lighter, more powerful now from what once held him bound, the weights that once pressed upon his body.
"'You have confronted the darkness within,' said the voice from the figure, full of approval. 'You've proven worthy of the power that flows from the Celestial Convergence. But with such power comes such responsibility.'"
He nodded; he knew what such words weighed in his head. He had become a different human being altogether; he had learned to face fears, and his coming back was proof of that. But at the same time, he knew there were more troubles on the road ahead and that he needed to be cautious about using this power.
"Thanks," he said, this voice steady. "I won't forget it."
The shadows opened to reveal a softly, ethereally illumined way. "Follow this way, Rufus. The Convergence power is yours to command. Yet remember, however, you are not alone. It is in the bonds that you will forge that your greatest strength lies."
As he took his first step forward, Lyra stepped beside him, her eyes wide with admiration. "You did it, Rufus! I knew you could.".
He smiled, warmth spreading over their travels. "I wouldn't have been able to do this, Lyra," he said. "We're in this together."
They trudged onward with one purpose: what the rest of Elysara had in store for them. They knew that their bond was stronger than ever, forged in the fire of trials.
Out of the temple came Rufus, a horizon full of possibilities and a lightened sky to an optimistic hue. He knew that his destiny awaited him, but that lost son of a duke was not going to do the trick; now he was to be Rufus, carrying the Celestial Convergence, to change Elysara's course in the future.
Along with Lyra, they would have dark resurging horizons, their minds set on bringing in light to an anxious world that was thirsty for heroes.