The room loomed before me, a space carved out of some ancient, unknowable darkness. It wasn't a natural darkness—not the kind you find in caves or moonless nights. This was different. This was the absence of everything. I felt my skin prickle the moment we stepped inside, the air heavy with a suffocating weight that made every breath feel like a struggle.
At the center of the room, a void hovered, suspended in midair. It wasn't just black—it was an abyss. No light, no shadow, no depth. Just nothingness, pulsating faintly like a living, breathing thing.
Pyre's voice cut through the tension, calm yet firm. "This is your next trial, Ash."
I turned to him, the unease in my chest growing stronger. "This?" I gestured toward the void. "You want me to… what? Stare at it?"
His smirk was faint but unmistakable. "Not just stare. You're going to sit there, focus your energy, and summon something from within."
I frowned, confusion and frustration bubbling to the surface. "Summon what?"
"The Black Fish," Pyre said simply.
I glanced back at the void, my stomach twisting. The idea of summoning anything from that… thing sent chills down my spine. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"
"You'll figure it out," Pyre replied, his tone maddeningly nonchalant.
The closer I got to the void, the heavier the air became. It felt like the room itself was pressing down on me, the weight growing unbearable as I approached. My wolf let out a low growl, its body tense as it stared at the void with wide, wary eyes.
"Stay," Pyre said firmly, motioning for the wolf to remain by the door.
The wolf hesitated, its instincts clearly screaming against leaving me alone. But it obeyed, retreating to the edge of the room, its growl softening into a worried whine.
I took another step forward, then another. My legs felt like lead, every movement a battle against the oppressive force emanating from the void. When I finally reached the edge, I hesitated.
"Sit," Pyre commanded from behind me.
I swallowed hard, lowering myself to the ground. The cold, smooth floor sent a shiver through my body, but it was nothing compared to the sensation radiating from the void. It was alive, pulsing faintly, each beat resonating through my chest like a second heartbeat.
Pyre's voice broke through the fog of unease clouding my mind. "Two hours. You'll sit here for two hours and focus your energy. No distractions. No breaks. Just you and the void."
I turned to glare at him. "You make it sound so easy."
He chuckled, his expression calm. "It's not. But you're not here because it's easy."
The moment I locked eyes with the void, I felt it. A pulse. It wasn't something I could see or hear—it was something I felt deep within me, like a ripple spreading through the core of my being.
My vision blurred, the edges of the room melting away until there was nothing left but me and the void. The air grew colder, sharper, each breath burning my lungs.
Focus. I had to focus.
I closed my eyes, drawing in a slow, shaky breath. I tried to concentrate, to channel my energy the way Pyre had taught me, but the void was relentless. It tugged at my thoughts, pulling them apart piece by piece until I could barely remember what I was doing.
"Focus, Ash!" Pyre's voice rang out, distant but firm.
I grit my teeth, forcing my mind to clear. It wasn't easy. The void was alive, and it wanted me to fail. I could feel it, mocking me, testing me, waiting for me to break.
Minutes passed—or maybe hours. Time didn't seem to exist here. The void pulsed again, and suddenly, I wasn't in the room anymore.
I was standing in a vast, black ocean, the water cold and endless. No sky, no stars—just darkness stretching out in all directions.
And then I saw it.
A single larva, writhing in the water. Its body was grotesque, pulsating with a sickly glow that made my stomach turn. It moved slowly, its featureless head tilting as though it could see me.
My chest tightened, fear clawing at the edges of my mind. I wanted to look away, to run, but I couldn't. The larva held me in place, its presence overwhelming.
"Don't get lost in it!" Pyre's voice cut through the vision, sharp and commanding.
I blinked, the ocean fading, and found myself back in the room. My breath came in ragged gasps, my body trembling as though I'd just run a marathon.
"You're losing focus," Pyre said, his tone stern. "You have to control it."
The void pulsed again, harder this time, and I felt something shift. A ripple spread across its surface, faint at first but growing stronger with each passing second.
And then I saw it—a shadow moving within the void. It was massive, its form sleek and smooth, its movements fluid yet deliberate.
The Black Fish.
Its scales shimmered like liquid obsidian, reflecting a faint, eerie light that seemed to come from nowhere. Its eyes glowed softly, piercing through the darkness as they locked onto mine.
I reached for the rope Pyre had given me, my hands trembling as I prepared to cast it. The fish moved closer, its presence growing more oppressive with each passing second.
"Don't lose focus!" Pyre shouted.
I clenched my teeth, my grip tightening on the rope. The fish lunged, its massive body slicing through the void with terrifying speed.
I threw the rope, looping it around the fish's tail just as it passed. The moment it connected, the fish thrashed violently, nearly pulling me into the void.
My muscles screamed in protest as I held on, every ounce of strength I had pouring into keeping the fish from dragging me under.
"Hold it steady!" Pyre's voice rang out, sharp and urgent.
I planted my feet, my legs trembling as I fought to hold my ground. The fish thrashed again, its movements wild and unpredictable, but I didn't let go.
The void pulsed harder, the pressure growing unbearable. My vision blurred, my body aching, but I refused to give up.
With one final heave, I pulled the fish out of the void and onto the ground. Its massive body writhed for a moment before going still, its glowing eyes dimming as it lay motionless.
I collapsed beside it, my chest heaving as I gasped for air. My entire body felt like it had been through a meat grinder, every muscle screaming in agony.
Pyre approached, his expression unreadable. He looked at the fish, then at me, and for the first time, I thought I saw a flicker of approval in his eyes.
"Not bad," he said, his tone calm.
I managed a weak smile, too exhausted to speak.
As I sat there, staring at the fish, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. The trial had pushed me to my limits, but I had overcome it.
For the first time, I felt like I was beginning to understand the depths of my own potential.
"You're stronger than you think," Pyre said, his voice soft but firm.
I nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. I wasn't the same person who had entered this room. I was something more.