By morning, the group packed up and headed toward the Ruins of Telmira — a place whispered about in old texts as a memory tomb, where thoughts were tested, twisted, and turned against you. Fun stuff.
Liam tried to walk off the unsettling encounter from the night before, but his thoughts stuck like mud. He hadn't told the others. Not about the figure. Not about the whispers. Not even about the warped reflection in the stream.
Because deep down… part of him agreed with the warning.
What if he really wasn't ready?
"What's with the sulky face?" Nyra asked, riding on Mog's now oddly fluffy, oversized summoned squirrel. "You look like someone stole your last fry."
Kael smirked. "Maybe he's finally realizing heroism comes without a tutorial."
"I heard that," Liam muttered.
Aeris marched ahead, her gaze locked forward. Focused, silent, and colder than usual.
He hadn't realized until now how little he knew about her — how little she'd shared. She knew more than she let on. That much was clear.
Maybe she already knew what he was. Maybe… that's why she hated him sometimes.
The Ruins of Telmira emerged from the cliffs like shattered teeth. Broken archways stood suspended in air, moss-covered pillars stretched like arms reaching toward forgotten gods, and a misty light danced in unnatural patterns.
A ruined altar sat at the center, cracked in half — and in the middle hovered the second fragment.
Liam could feel it calling. Faint. Like a pulse in the chest.
"Careful," Kael said, drawing his blade. "The legends say it doesn't protect itself with beasts."
"What then?" Nyra asked.
Kael hesitated. "It turns you into the beast."
Before they could plan, the mist shifted violently — swallowing them whole.
Darkness.
When Liam blinked again, he was alone. The ruins were gone. The mist was gone.
He stood in a dim corridor. Stone walls. A flickering torch. Silence.
"Guys?" he called out. His voice echoed back — warped.
Then he heard it:
"Liam…"
His mother's voice.
No.
No, that couldn't be.
"Why did you leave us, Liam?"
He turned. She was there — standing with her back to him. Her figure shimmering, like a half-forgotten dream.
"I didn't… I don't remember—"
"You abandoned your purpose."
"You let him die."
A man appeared behind her. A blurry figure. His father's silhouette.
"You were born for more, Liam. But you forgot us."
Liam dropped to his knees. "I don't understand! I was just a baby when—"
The corridor cracked. Shattered like glass.
He was falling—
Elsewhere, Nyra found herself trapped inside a mirrored garden.
Voices surrounded her.
"You'll never be good enough."
"Your summons are weak."
"You're just a burden."
She screamed — her hands glowing, calling her fox familiar.
But it wouldn't come.
A mirror nearby showed her alone, crying in a field, overlooked by a master who once rejected her. Her past. Her pain.
But then…
A faint spark.
Inside her hand, a sigil glowed.
New. Fierce.
"I am more," she whispered.
The fox reappeared — larger. Eyes burning blue.
She broke the mirror with a roar.
Kael faced his own echo — a twisted version of himself, mocking his failures in battle, whispering that he couldn't protect anyone.
Aeris stood silent in a dream of bloodied snow — staring at a younger version of herself, holding a dying friend.
"You promised you'd protect him."
"You broke that promise."
She clenched her jaw. "I did. And I'll never fail again."
She sliced the vision in half.
Back in the real ruins, the mist cracked and shattered like ice.
One by one, the group returned — Liam last, drenched in sweat, wide-eyed and shaking.
But in his hand…
The second fragment pulsed, recognizing his survival.
"Well…" Nyra said, panting. "That was emotionally scarring."
Mog coughed. "That place smells like trauma."
Aeris said nothing. But she looked at Liam — not with hatred, but with something else.
Pity?
Regret?
He couldn't tell.
Far away, in the Nytherion's throne room…
The obsidian-winged woman knelt again.
"He passed the second test."
The monster's jaw creaked. "Pity."
Another voice spoke now — a new ally stepping into the light.
A tall man in black priest robes with silver veins glowing across his skin.
Eyes empty. His name whispered in legends.
Sareth the Soulbinder.
"Shall I make him fail the next test… master?"
Nytherion grinned.
"Yes. And remind Elira who truly owns her soul."