The moment my foot touched the chosen path, the bridge of golden light rippled like water disturbed by a falling leaf. The other paths dimmed and dissolved behind me, as if they had never existed. Aetheris welcomed me in silence, but it was not a peaceful silence—it was alert, observant, almost curious.
The street ahead unfolded beneath my steps, tiles of crystal and stone rearranging themselves with soft, chiming sounds. Each tile glowed faintly, reacting to my presence. I felt as though I was walking on the city's pulse, and the thought sent a shiver up my spine.
"Do not rely only on your eyes," EG said quietly as he walked beside me. "Aetheris is alive. It listens, it feels, and it reacts."
I nodded, though my attention was already scattered. The buildings along the street leaned subtly inward, their reflections shifting across mirrored windows. In one pane, I saw myself as I was now—determined, cautious. In another, I saw a version of me soaked in rain, trembling at the bus stop. I turned away quickly, my heart racing.
The pearl pulsed once, firm and steady, grounding me. I exhaled slowly and focused on its warmth. The city responded. The street smoothed, the reflections quieted, as if acknowledging my regained balance.
We reached a narrow square where the air felt heavier. At its center stood a fountain made of floating crystal shards, suspended in slow orbit around an invisible core. Instead of water, light flowed through it—soft, breathing, alive. Around the fountain stood figures cloaked in pale robes, their faces obscured.
As we approached, one of them lifted its head. Beneath the hood was not a face, but a mirror. In it, I saw my own eyes staring back—wide, uncertain.
"Traveler," the figure spoke, its voice echoing from many directions at once. "The streets demand a toll. Not gold. Not blood. Truth."
My throat tightened. "What kind of truth?" I asked softly.
"The one you hide from yourself," another figure replied.
The ground beneath my feet trembled slightly. The buildings around the square shifted, sealing off every exit. I realized then that this was the city's challenge—its first true test. Not strength. Not courage. Honesty.
The pearl grew warm, almost heavy in my palm. Images surfaced in my mind: the fear of being alone, the mistrust I carried toward others, the instinct to run instead of face pain. I had always told myself I was cautious, but now I saw the truth beneath it. I was afraid of being hurt again.
"I…" My voice faltered.
EG did not speak. He only watched, his expression unreadable. This was mine to face.
I swallowed hard and stepped closer to the fountain. "I'm afraid," I said, my voice trembling but clear. "I'm afraid of trusting people. Afraid that if I let my guard down, I'll lose control… or be abandoned."
The mirrored faces rippled. The light in the fountain flared gently, not violently, not judgmentally. The city listened.
"And yet you walk forward," the first figure said. "Why?"
I clenched my fists, then slowly relaxed them. "Because staying afraid hurts more than facing the truth."
The square fell silent. Then, slowly, the cloaked figures stepped back. The mirrors faded, revealing empty hoods that collapsed into light and vanished. The streets around us shifted again, opening paths where walls had stood moments before.
The fountain lowered, its light condensing into a single glowing drop that floated toward me. It touched the pearl, and for a brief moment, they resonated—light answering light.
EG finally spoke. "Aetheris has accepted you."
I felt something change inside me—not power, not strength, but clarity. The city no longer felt hostile. It felt… aware.
As we continued down the newly opened street, I glanced at the pearl. Its glow was steadier now, deeper, as if it had absorbed something essential.
But I knew this was only the beginning. Aetheris did not test once. It tested continuously.
And somewhere above us, within the Heart of the Tower, something had noticed my answer.