The Hollow Sanctum's entrance loomed behind them like a gaping maw, its oppressive aura seeping into the air. The guards, now fully convinced of Kieran's fabricated divinity, led the group into the depths of the stone structure. The walls were carved with runes that glowed faintly, pulsating as if alive, and the temperature dropped noticeably the farther they ventured.
Fredrick, his broom still slung over his back, whispered, "Master, do you think these runes are traps?"
Kieran glanced at the glowing symbols. "Probably. But as long as we don't touch anything—or look like we're touching anything—we should be fine."
Fredrick gulped but nodded. Behind him, Meliora walked with quiet composure, her hands clasped in front of her. Her sharp eyes darted between the carvings and the guards, studying everything with a scholar's precision. Though calm on the surface, there was an unmistakable intensity in her movements, as though she were memorizing every detail for later.
"Master," Meliora said softly, her voice reverent yet tinged with concern, "the magic here is ancient. These runes weren't made by the Shadowed Order—they're repurposing something older."
Kieran raised an eyebrow. "Older? You mean 'older' as in 'a bunch of weirdos playing with ancient powers they don't understand?'"
"Exactly," Meliora replied. "This sanctum isn't their creation—it's a relic of a forgotten time. The Order's meddling could unleash something far beyond their control."
"Fantastic," Kieran muttered. "Because that's exactly what we needed: ancient forgotten powers to add to the list of problems."
Fredrick shot him a worried glance. "What should we do, Master?"
Kieran sighed. "We keep moving and pretend we're not ridiculously out of our depth. That's worked so far."
The High Priest's Chamber
The guards led them into a cavernous chamber lit by braziers filled with a sickly green flame. At the center of the room stood a towering figure clad in flowing black robes. Their mask, a grotesque amalgamation of bone and gold, reflected the flickering light as they turned to face the newcomers.
"Chosen One," the High Priest intoned, their voice reverberating with unnatural power. "You have finally arrived."
Kieran took a step forward, masking his apprehension with a confident stride. "Yes," he said, his tone steady. "The shadows have guided me here to witness your... devotion."
The High Priest inclined their head slightly, though their body language suggested suspicion. "We have waited for your coming, Herald. But before we place our faith in you, there must be a test. The shadows demand proof of your divinity."
Fredrick tensed, his hand gripping his broom, while Meliora's gaze sharpened. Kieran resisted the urge to groan. Of course there's a test. Why wouldn't there be a test?
"What sort of proof?" Kieran asked, his voice calm despite the storm of anxiety brewing within him.
The High Priest gestured to the far end of the chamber, where a stone door stood, carved with intricate symbols. "Beyond that door lies the Trial of the Ascendant. Only those chosen by the shadows may survive its depths. Enter, and emerge victorious, and the Order shall kneel before you."
"And if I don't?" Kieran asked, already knowing the answer.
The High Priest's voice grew colder. "Then you are a false prophet, and the shadows will claim you."
+
The stone door groaned as it opened, revealing a spiraling staircase descending into darkness. Kieran, flanked by Fredrick and Meliora, stepped inside, their footsteps echoing ominously. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving only the faint glow of Meliora's magic to light their way.
Fredrick glanced nervously at Kieran. "Master, are you sure about this?"
"No," Kieran replied honestly. "But if we turn back, we're dead anyway."
Meliora's voice cut through the gloom, steady and reassuring. "We'll succeed, Master. The shadows cannot stand against your will."
Kieran resisted the urge to laugh at the irony. If only she knew how much of this is improvised nonsense.
The staircase eventually opened into a circular chamber, its walls lined with glowing runes. At the center stood a pedestal, atop which rested an ancient tome bound in black leather. Surrounding the pedestal were three constructs—towering humanoid figures made of stone and shadow, their glowing eyes fixed on the intruders.
Fredrick's grip on his broom tightened. "What are those things?"
"Sentinels," Meliora said, her voice hushed. "Guardians bound to protect the sanctum's secrets. They're constructs of shadow magic and stone. Powerful and nearly indestructible."
"Nearly?" Fredrick asked.
Meliora nodded. "Their cores—the glowing crystals in their chests—are their weak points. Destroy those, and the Sentinels will fall."
Kieran stepped forward, his mind racing. Alright, system, now would be a great time to give me something useful.
The constructs began to move, their heavy footsteps shaking the ground. One raised a massive stone fist, preparing to strike.
Kieran raised a hand instinctively. "Halt!" he shouted. "I command you in the name of the shadows!"
For a moment, the room fell silent. The constructs froze mid-step, their glowing eyes dimming slightly.
Fredrick stared in awe. "Master, you did it!"
Meliora frowned. "No... the magic isn't holding. It's reacting to belief, but it won't last."
The constructs began to move again, their pace quickening. Kieran cursed under his breath. "Figures."
+
Fredrick leaped into action, darting toward the nearest construct with Flash Steps. He appeared behind it in a blur, striking its core with a powerful swing of his broom. The blow sent cracks spidering through the crystal, but it didn't shatter.
The construct retaliated, its massive arm swinging toward Fredrick. He vanished again, reappearing on the other side of the room. "It's tough, Master!" he called. "We'll need more than one hit!"
Meliora stepped forward, her hands weaving intricate sigils in the air. "I'll weaken their defenses. Cover me."
Kieran watched as Fredrick engaged the constructs, his movements swift and precise. Meanwhile, Meliora's magic flared, arcs of light lancing toward the constructs and striking their cores. The glow in their eyes dimmed further, their movements slowing.
Kieran, feeling the pressure to contribute, pointed at the nearest construct. "Your core is... unstable! It's going to implode!"
To his astonishment, cracks began to form along the construct's core, the belief from Fredrick and Meliora feeding into the system's reality-bending influence. With a final shudder, the construct collapsed, its body crumbling into rubble.
Fredrick whooped. "Master, you're amazing!"
Kieran forced a grin. "Yeah, let's go with that."
The remaining constructs, now visibly weakened, fell in quick succession as Fredrick and Meliora worked in tandem. Within minutes, the chamber was silent once more, the glowing runes dimming as the magic dissipated.