The cliffs did not summon gently.
The moment the silver beam struck the sky, the entire cliff-city awakened in a chorus of whispers. Runes etched into the stone flared one by one....streaks of moonlight crawling upward like countless glowing veins mimicking Aurelianth's own.
The ground beneath him vibrated.
Aurelianth braced his hand against the balcony rail. "What's happening?"
Lioren grabbed his wrist. "The Cliffs are calling. We must go."
Before he could ask more, the cliffside pathway lit up from end to end....each stone glowing pale blue beneath their feet, guiding them like a trail of starlight.
Aurelianth swallowed.
There was no choice.
No hesitation.
The world had decided his next step.
He followed.
The Ascent to Judgment
Ebonecho Village was awake now—doors opening, lanterns igniting, voices murmuring as villagers peeked from their carved homes.
Fear.
Curiosity.
Hope.
All radiated from their eyes as Lioren led Aurelianth through the carved corridors.
"Why do they stare like that?" he whispered.
"Because no one has been called to the Cliffs in seven generations," she said.
"And what happened to the last one?"
She hesitated.
"…He ceased."
The word stuck in Aurelianth's bones like a cold needle.
Ceased.
Not died.
Not failed.
Erased.
The pathway climbed higher, the air thinning with elevation. The closer they drew to the summit, the heavier Aurelianth's limbs felt... like the world was trying to drag him backward.
His veins pulsed harder.
The runes writhed faster.
Breath came ragged.
"Lioren…" he gasped, stumbling. "Is this normal?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Which meant no.
Finally she said, "The cliffs are ancient. They sense creation energy. Your body… carries more than it should."
He gritted his teeth. "I feel like the world doesn't want me here."
Lioren's grip tightened on his sleeve.
"It isn't about wanting or not wanting."
Her voice cracked.
"It's about whether you fit."
The Summit of the Moon-Carved Cliffs
They reached the top.
Aurelianth's breath caught.
The summit was a wide, circular platform carved from stone so pale it looked poured from moonlight itself. Runes spiraled across it thousands of them...glowing faintly, shifting like constellations rearranging into new patterns.
At the center stood a stone altar, cracked and worn, humming with ancient power.
And behind it an endless drop into the glowing Shadow Sea below, waves rising like ink-black smoke.
Aurelianth stepped forward.
The entire platform brightened at once.
He froze.
Lioren whispered, "They recognize you."
The runes across his skin pulsed in response silver flames dancing beneath flesh.
The matriarch appeared behind them, flanked by elders carrying moon-lanterns.
"Aurelianth," she intoned, voice echoing through the open air, "step onto the altar."
He hesitated.
"What will happen?"
"If you belong to Novaelum," she said, "the runes will reveal your purpose."
"And if I don't?"
The matriarch did not blink.
"Then the world will unmake you."
His veins pulsed in fear.
Lioren touched his arm.
"You can do this," she whispered, voice trembling. "You must."
He stepped forward.
The platform vibrated beneath his feet.
The Moment of Contact
The altar was freezing....colder than stone should ever be, colder than night, colder than death's memory.
Aurelianth placed both palms on it.
Every rune in the cliff-face lit at once.
A shockwave burst outward...not painful,but consuming.
The world around him vanished.
Stone.
Sea.
Sky.
Lioren.
Elders.
Everything dissolved into white.
He wasn't falling.
He wasn't standing.
He was unmoored.
A voice...not spoken, but felt...echoed in his mind like wind through an ancient graveyard.
"Show us."
Aurelianth's breath hitched.
"Show you what?"
"Your memory."
Aurelianth's heart clenched.
"I don't… I barely have any."
"Show us what you carry."
The whiteness trembled.
He tried to speak but the world thrust images into his mind:
.....A child he protected
.....The moment he died
.....The warmth pulling him from darkness
.....The runes burning on his new skin
.....The click-heartbeat echoing
.....The sea whispering his name
.....The half-born creature dissolving in his arms
....The shockwave that shattered the chamber
....The image of the first Aurelianth being devoured
The world drank it all.
The whiteness quivered.....
Then compressed.
Then cracked.
Then.....
The World Shows Its Memory
Aurelianth fell into a vision not his own.
He stood at the edge of the Heart Void...a swirling storm of silver and black, tendrils of raw creation energy lashing out like wild serpents.
Before him stood a young man whose veins glowed exactly like Aurelianth's.
The first Aurelianth.
He carved runes into the stone, chanting words Aurelianth didn't understand.
The runes obeyed him.
The void screamed.
A tendril shot out...wrapped around his arm... dragged him forward.
He fought.
He burned.
He begged the world not to forget him.
But the void swallowed him.
Aurelianth watched as the runes on the man's skin shattered...breaking into silver dust...and the light within him extinguished.
The vision snapped.
Aurelianth collapsed to his knees.
His chest heaved.
His skin burned.
His veins flickered violently.
click
click
click
The sound slithered behind his ribs.
The Hollow Pulse was awake.
And it was watching him relive its favorite memory.
The Verdict
The whiteness shattered.
Aurelianth crashed back into the real world... gasping, trembling, palms slipping from the altar.
He staggered backward.
Lioren rushed toward him. "Aurelianth!"
He fell into her arms, shaking.
The matriarch stepped forward.
"We have seen the truth," she said.
He forced himself upright.
"What… is my judgment?"
The matriarch raised her staff.
The runes across the entire cliff face lit... bright, blinding, alive.
Aurelianth shielded his eyes....
Then realized something terrifying.
The runes were not glowing.
They were taking shape.
Forming symbols he had never seen.
Symbols older than memory.
Older than the cliffs themselves.
The matriarch inhaled sharply.
"The runes…" she whispered. "They are rewriting themselves."
The elders backed away in terror.
Lioren clutched Aurelianth's hand.
"Aurelianth…" she breathed. "What are you?"
He felt the answer before he heard it.
From the cliffs.
From the sky.
From the sea.
From the Hollow Pulse that whispered in his bones.
"Not the one who came before."
The cliffs' runes pulsed.
"Not the one who was lost."
The altar glowed beneath him.
"Not the one who was supposed to arrive."
Lioren trembled beside him.
The runes united into a single, massive sigil beneath Aurelianth's feet.
It ignited.
"You are an error."
Aurelianth's breath crushed inward.
An elder screamed.
Another fainted.
The matriarch dropped to one knee.
Lioren shook her head. "No...no...he's not...."
The runes flared brighter.
"You are a contradiction."
Aurelianth staggered backward.
His veins blazed white-hot.
His runes writhed violently.
The world trembled.
"You should not exist."
Lioren cried out.
The matriarch bowed her head in fear.
The cliffs shook violently.....and then....
"And yet…
You do."
Everything stopped.
Aurelianth stared at the glowing sigil beneath him.
"What does that mean?" he whispered.
The cliffs answered with a single, devastating truth:
"You are not continuation.
You are not replacement.
You are
Deviation."
And then the sigil changed colors...
silver
black
silver
black
Aurelianth's heart nearly burst.
The cliffs had not erased him.
They had not accepted him.
They had marked him.
He was no longer judged.
He was claimed.