The light enveloping me was blinding, consuming every sense but the rhythmic hum of the shards in my hands. My breath hitched as the warmth spread through me, suffused with energy so intense that it was both exhilarating and suffocating.
When the light receded, I found myself standing in a vast expanse of shimmering white. There was no sky, no ground, only endless light and a faint glow beneath my feet that supported me. The shards hovered just above my palms, glowing faintly as if they, too, were observing the strange place.
“You have entered the Trial,” the voice echoed around me, though this time it carried a softer tone, like the whisper of a breeze. “What lies ahead will test not your strength, but your heart, your purpose, and your truth.”
I turned, scanning the horizon for any sign of the figure from before. “What am I supposed to do?” I called out, my voice carrying unnaturally in the empty space. “What is this trial?”
No answer came, only silence. Then, as if in response to my words, the space before me rippled, and a scene began to form. It solidified like ink dispersing in water, painting the world around me.
I stood in the middle of a bustling village. The streets were lined with stone cottages, their chimneys puffing smoke into the golden sky. The air smelled of bread and wildflowers. People bustled about, their laughter and conversations melding into a gentle, comforting hum.
At first, it was idyllic, peaceful-until I realized something was wrong.
I couldn’t move.
The shards, still floating near my hands, burned with a sudden, searing heat. Pain flashed through me, and the perfect scene dissolved like glass shattered underfoot. The vibrant village transformed into its opposite: charred, desolate ruins. Flames licked at the remnants of the cottages, and the air reeked of ash and despair. The people were gone, replaced by shadowed figures that twisted and writhed as if caught in an eternal scream.
“You sought truth,” the voice said again, more urgent this time. “But truth demands acknowledgment of consequences.”
The shards’ light pulsed violently, drawing my gaze. Images flickered across their surfaces-people I loved, places I cherished. Logan’s face appeared briefly, his brow furrowed as he shouted my name. Then Zara, her expression stricken with pain, clutching her arm as if wounded. My heart twisted.
“What does this mean?” I shouted. “What consequences?”
The shadows grew closer, creeping along the broken ground like liquid darkness. My instincts screamed at me to run, but my feet were rooted in place. One figure loomed taller than the rest, its form solidifying into something familiar-me.
The shadow copy stepped closer, radiating malice as it spoke, its voice an eerie mimicry of mine. “You think carrying the shards will save them? That you can rewrite what is destined to happen? Power destroys. It burns, it takes, it consumes. And you, Audrey Coleman, are no exception.”
My heart thundered in my chest, but I forced my voice not to tremble. “I don’t care about power! I didn’t ask for this-”
“Yet here you are,” it snarled. “A willing pawn. You talk of sacrifice, of protecting those you love, but are you willing to become the very thing they fear to save them?” The shadow raised its hand, and the shards in my own hands blazed so brightly that I nearly dropped them. “Are you willing to become a monster?”
“I’ll never be that,” I hissed through gritted teeth.
The shadow smiled darkly. “They all say that at first.”
It lunged.
Without thinking, I raised the shards as a shield, their light exploding outward to push the shadow away. The force of it sent me reeling back, the raw energy crackling like a thunderstorm. I hit the ground hard, coughing as I scrambled to my feet. The shadow circled, unrelenting, its shape constantly shifting like smoke.
What do I do?
I searched the shards, hoping for some kind of answer. Their glow was steady but wordless, their heat like a steady heartbeat against my palms. Then, beneath the surface, I saw them-the faces of the others. Logan, standing strong beside me. Mal, her determination unwavering even in fear. Liam, with his infuriating smirk that hid more loyalty than he’d admit. They were my anchor. My reminder. This wasn’t just about me.
I stood taller, facing the shadow with renewed determination. “You’re right. Power destroys. But it doesn’t have to. It can protect. It can heal. The difference is choice.”
The shadow paused, cocking its head, but said nothing.
“This isn’t about me becoming a monster,” I continued, my voice rising. “It’s about what I’ll do to make sure no one else becomes one. Yes, there’s risk. Yes, there’s sacrifice. But I’ll bear that, not them.” My grip on the shards tightened as their warmth intensified, the light spreading beyond me in waves. “And you can’t stop me.”
The shadow hissed, then dissolved into nothingness, as if the conviction in my words had unraveled its form. The oppressive weight in the air lifted, and the shattered, ruined village began to fade.
I was back in the white expanse, the shards glowing brighter than before.
“You have chosen,” the voice said again, but this time it carried warmth, almost pride. “And so the Trial is passed.”
Before I could respond, the light swirled around me again. When it faded, I was standing on the platform in the chamber. Logan was gripping his sword tightly, Mal’s expression was tight with worry, and Liam looked like he hadn’t blinked the entire time.
“You’re back,” Logan said, his voice a mix of relief and frustration. “What happened?”
“The trial…” I began, then stopped as the pedestal in front of me lit up with golden light. The sphere began to rise, lifting off the pedestal until it hovered in front of me. The shards in my hands hummed louder, their light bending toward the sphere until the three merged together in a brilliant flash.
When the light faded, I was holding a single crystal, its surface swirling with the same golden light as the sphere. It was warm against my skin, and though it was silent, I could feel its energy thrumming deep within me.
“What the hell is that?” Mal asked, her voice hushed.
“It’s… the Heart of the Spire,” Liam said, a strange reverence in his tone. “She’s claimed it.”
The figure from earlier reappeared, glowing faintly at the edge of the platform. Its voice filled the chamber. “The Heart is not power for power’s sake, shardbearer. It is a tool. A guide.