The hallway smelled faintly of dust and old stone, but my mind barely registered it. My eyes were fixed on the Silent Gate. Somehow, it felt… closer than yesterday, though nothing had changed. The faint hum reached me again, as if calling my name directly.
I knew I shouldn't touch it again. I knew I wasn't ready. And yet, my fingers itched. My thoughts were tangled in a single thread of curiosity I couldn't ignore.
"Hey."
I jumped, spinning around. Liora stood leaning against a wall, arms crossed, eyes narrowed like she could see the exact pattern of my thoughts.
"Uh… hi," I said, trying to sound casual. My voice betrayed me anyway—tight, shallow.
"You've been staring at that thing all week," she said. "It's… weird. I don't know why, but you keep coming back. And don't think I haven't noticed."
I swallowed. How did she always notice these things? "It's… nothing. Really."
She raised an eyebrow. "Nothing that hums, glows, or… whispers?" Her gaze flicked toward the door, then back to me. "Yeah, right."
I looked at the Silent Gate again. It hummed softly, almost lazily, as if listening to our conversation. My hand twitched involuntarily.
"I—uh—I don't know what it is," I admitted. The truth tasted like ash. "But it feels… like it's waiting for me. Or someone."
Her eyes widened just slightly. "Waiting for you? That sounds… dangerous."
"Maybe," I whispered, stepping closer. My palm hovered over the metal, hesitating. The hum grew louder. My pulse raced in sync with it, insistent, hypnotic. It felt like a heartbeat—not mine, not anyone else's, but alive in a way I could feel deep in my chest.
"Stop," a voice said behind me. Calm, soft, yet commanding.
I froze. From the shadows of the hallway emerged Selara Myr. Her cloak swept the ground. Her eyes were unreadable, but they pierced me like a blade.
"You've been drawn here too many times," she said. "Some things are not meant for curious hands."
"I… I don't understand," I stammered. "It's just a door."
Selara's lips curved faintly. "A door? You have no idea what this is." She paused, tilting her head, considering me. "Yet it has chosen to respond to you. That is… rare."
"Respond?" I whispered, confused. My palm pressed tentatively to the cold metal. The hum intensified, brushing against the edges of my mind. A faint ripple passed through me. Not pain. Not pleasure. Something… other.
Selara's gaze followed my hand. "It reacts to your intent, not your touch. You are aware of it. That alone makes you different. Dangerous, in the eyes of others."
"Others?" I asked, tension creeping into my voice.
Her expression did not change. "Watchers. Some observe. Some manipulate. And some will decide your fate if you do not learn the rules quickly."
I shivered. My mind raced. Rules? Fate? What are you talking about?
Liora stepped closer. "I don't like this," she said softly. "If it's choosing you… if it's alive… then maybe we shouldn't mess with it."
I glanced at her. She wasn't saying that out of fear. She genuinely cared. And that made my chest tighten. But the pull was irresistible. I had to know.
I concentrated. My focus narrowed on the door itself. Just… understanding. Not opening. Not controlling. Just feeling.
The handle twitched under my fingers. A glow seeped from the cracks, brighter than before. My heartbeat synchronized with the hum, rapid and uneven. The sensation inside me flared—a flicker of memory I couldn't place. I saw fragments: a sky unfamiliar yet oddly familiar, stones underfoot that weren't from this city, a weight on my shoulders that felt both mine and someone else's.
I stumbled back. "What… what is this?"
Selara took a step closer, voice soft but precise. "Threshold Authority. You are touching it. And it touches you in return. But beware—the gate never gives freely. It tests. It observes. And sometimes… it punishes."
I swallowed, my thoughts spinning. "Tests? Punishes? Why me?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she tilted her head and studied me, as if weighing my worth. "Curiosity is dangerous. But sometimes necessary. You have a choice now. Learn. Or regret."
Liora looked between us, concerned. "Why does she sound like she knows what's going to happen?"
"I… I don't know," I whispered, voice barely audible.
The door's glow flickered as if sensing our hesitation. A pull, subtle but insistent, tugged at the edges of my mind. I felt a thread connecting me to it—something vast, silent, waiting. I could almost hear it whispering, calling, daring me to step further.
Selara's eyes softened—just slightly. "Remember, you are not alone. But neither are you safe. Not yet."
I backed away from the door, shaking, my fingers tingling. Liora reached for my arm, grounding me in reality. "You okay?"
I nodded, though my mind screamed otherwise. "Yeah… yeah. Just… dizzy, I think."
Selara turned, cloak swishing around her. "We'll meet again. Soon. And next time, the gate will demand more than your curiosity."
Then she was gone, swallowed by the shadows.
The hum faded, leaving the door's cold metal against my palm. But the pull remained, lingering in my chest, whispering of thresholds I didn't yet understand.
Liora watched me quietly, concern etched in every line of her face. "I don't like this," she said again.
"Neither do I," I admitted. "But I can't stop."
And somehow, I knew that was exactly what the door wanted.