The boy stepped onto the shard, and the world trembled around him. The dim light beneath his feet pulsed erratically, casting distorted shadows that seemed to twist and crawl across the edges of the void. The hum of his chains vibrated louder, sharper, as though resonating with an unseen force. The air was thick with a suffocating weight, pressing against him like an invisible wall.
Sylra's voice broke through the stillness, steady but laced with worry. "Each trial strips you further, makes you question more. Don't let it break you."
The master stood silent for a moment, his staff grounded, his gaze cutting through the void like a blade. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "This shard doesn't test your strength or your fear. It tests your choices—their weight, their worth, and whether you can carry them forward."
The boy tightened his fists, his golden veins flaring faintly. "I've carried them this far. Whatever this shard shows me, I'll face it."
The shard pulsed beneath him, and the world shattered into cascading light. The void dissolved, reforming into something new, something alive with tension and purpose.
---
The Chamber of Reflections
When the distortion cleared, the boy found himself in a circular chamber of polished obsidian. The walls gleamed faintly, reflecting his image from every angle. The silence was heavy, broken only by the rhythmic hum of his chains, which seemed to resonate with the chamber itself.
He took a cautious step forward, and the reflections in the walls shifted. At first, they moved in unison, mirroring his every motion perfectly. But as he advanced, the reflections took on a life of their own. They stepped out of the walls, their forms solidifying until they stood before him—three figures, each identical to him in every detail. Their golden veins glowed faintly, their eyes blazing with an eerie light.
"Do you know us?" the first reflection asked, its voice cold and sharp.
"We are the echoes of your choices," the second said, its tone colder, more biting.
"And we are here to remind you of what you carry," the third added, its voice soft but filled with menace.
The boy's golden veins flared, his fists tightening. "You're nothing but illusions."
The reflections laughed in unison, a sound that reverberated through the chamber like shattered glass. "Illusions?" the first reflection sneered. "Or truths you refuse to face? Every choice you've made has forged us, and every path you've taken has brought you here."
---
The Trials of Consequence
The first reflection stepped forward, its golden veins pulsing with intensity. Its face twisted with anger, its voice laced with bitterness.
"You chose power over compassion," it said, its tone cutting deep. "You abandoned those who needed you most for the sake of strength. How many lives have you destroyed to break your chains?"
The chamber walls came alive with images—villages engulfed in flames, faces twisted in fear and agony, allies left behind as he moved forward. The boy's chest tightened, the hum of his chains growing erratic.
"I did what I had to," he said firmly, his voice steady. "Strength demands sacrifice. Without it, I'd still be bound."
The second reflection stepped forward, its movements deliberate and precise. Its gaze was colder, calculating, and its voice was filled with quiet scorn.
"And what of restraint?" it asked. "You spared those who would have struck you down. You protected those who turned their backs on you. Did your mercy save you, or did it make you weak?"
The walls shifted again, showing moments of hesitation—enemies spared, betrayals endured, lives lost because he held back. The boy's fists trembled, but his gaze remained unwavering.
"Mercy isn't weakness," he growled. "It's a choice, and I'll carry it."
The third reflection stepped forward, its voice quiet but piercing. Its form shimmered faintly, as though less solid than the others.
"And what of yourself?" it asked. "The chains you carry within—your hatred, your anger, your guilt—they weigh on you more than any chain the heavens could forge. Do you truly believe you can break the heavens' chains without first breaking your own?"
The chamber darkened, the reflections growing larger and more imposing. Their voices overlapped, filling the air with a relentless cacophony.
"Every choice you've made binds you further."
"Every step forward adds to the weight you carry."
"You cannot break what you refuse to face."
---
The Moment of Defiance
The boy staggered under the weight of their words, his knees buckling slightly. The golden veins on his arms flickered weakly, their light dimming as the reflections pressed closer. The chamber itself seemed alive, its obsidian walls warping and twisting in response to his doubt.
But then, amidst the chaos, a memory surfaced—a single moment, pure and unyielding. It was the moment he had chosen to fight, not just against the heavens, but against the chains within himself. It burned brightly, a steady flame that pushed back against the darkness.
"You don't define me," he said, his voice rising above the din. "My choices are mine, and I'll carry their weight. But they don't bind me—they make me stronger."
The golden veins on his arms surged with light, the hum of his chains roaring to life. He stood tall, his golden eyes blazing with resolve.
"I will break every chain—yours, mine, and the heavens'—no matter what it takes."
---
The Shattering of Illusions
The reflections recoiled, their forms flickering and distorting. The boy's chains erupted with golden energy, a powerful surge that radiated outward, shattering the reflections into shards of light. The chamber trembled violently, its obsidian walls cracking and dissolving into fragments.
The oppressive weight lifted, the darkness faded, and the void returned. The shard beneath him pulsed brightly before falling silent.
---
Emerging from the Trial
The boy stepped off the shard, his breathing steady but heavy. Sylra approached cautiously, her silver eyes searching his face.
"What did you see?" she asked, her voice soft but curious.
The boy's golden eyes met hers, calm yet burning with determination. "I saw my choices—and the weight they carry. They don't hold me back. They push me forward."
The master stepped closer, his gaze sharp and appraising. "The Cradle lays bare the truths we hide. You've passed this trial, but the next will dig deeper still. Steel yourself."
The boy nodded, his resolve unshaken. He turned toward the next shard, its faint glow beckoning him further into the depths of the Hollow Cradle.
---
The Watchful Shadow
As he moved away, the void rippled faintly. A shadow emerged at the edge of the chasm, its form dark and indistinct. Its glowing eyes fixed on the boy with silent intensity, heavy with purpose and intent.
The boy didn't look back. Whatever waited ahead, he would meet it head-on.