The Trial of the Mind Begins

The figure's cold, glowing eyes bore into mine, awaiting my answer to the first question. 

"What do you fear most, Eli?"

The words echoed in my mind like a death sentence. I could feel the weight of the trial pressing down on me as if the air itself had grown heavier. Fear slithered up my spine, chilling my blood. 

What do I fear? 

A hundred thoughts raced through my mind. Was it my power? Was it failing those I cared about? Was it death? Or was it something deeper—something that gnawed at the core of who I was? 

Then it hit me, clear as day.

"I fear myself," I whispered. The moment the words left my mouth, I felt a chill wash over me, but also a strange sense of release, like a wound finally exposed to air. "I fear what I might become."

The shadowed figure nodded slowly. "Correct."

The word felt like a lifeline, pulling me up from the depths of my own doubts. I let out a shaky breath, realizing just how tightly I had been holding onto that fear. But there was no time for relief. The figure stepped forward again, and the blood-red water rippled under his feet. 

"One question answered. Four remain."

My heart sank. This was only the beginning.

The figure's voice cut through the eerie silence like a knife. "Second question: You stand at a fork in the road. One path leads to endless wealth, the other to infinite knowledge. Which do you choose, and why?"

I blinked, my mind racing. This seemed too easy, too straightforward. Was it a trap? Was there a hidden meaning? The figure watched me, waiting for my response.

Wealth or knowledge. The choice wasn't as simple as it seemed. I thought of the power that now coursed through my veins, the mysterious bloodline I barely understood, the responsibility that came with it. Knowledge had always been the key. Wealth could buy safety, but knowledge could unlock everything.

"I choose knowledge," I said firmly, my voice stronger than before. "Because with knowledge, I can shape my own destiny. Wealth can be fleeting, but knowledge—true knowledge—endures."

The figure remained silent for a moment, and then nodded once more. "Correct."

A small sense of relief washed over me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that the questions would only get harder from here.

The blood-red lake seemed to ripple more violently now, as if reflecting the growing tension in the trial. The figure, shrouded in darkness, began to circle me slowly, his glowing eyes unblinking.

"Third question," he intoned, his voice low and menacing. "You encounter a man at the edge of a cliff. He is about to jump. You can save him, but doing so will cost you your most cherished possession. Do you save him, or do you walk away?"

My breath hitched. The question hit me harder than the others. This wasn't about wealth or knowledge. This was about sacrifice.

I closed my eyes, picturing the scene in my mind. The man on the edge, desperate, about to leap. And me—standing there, knowing that saving him would cost me something precious. What was my most cherished possession? My power? My connection to my parents? My own life? 

Could I give that up to save a stranger?

The silence stretched on, thick and oppressive. The figure waited, his eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation. My mind screamed for an answer, but the weight of the question felt too heavy.

Finally, I spoke, my voice barely above a whisper. "I would save him."

The figure stopped circling and faced me directly. "Why?"

"Because," I said, swallowing hard, "sometimes, saving someone else is more important than holding onto what you cherish. Sometimes, a life is worth more than whatever it is you're afraid to lose."

The figure's cold eyes softened—just for a moment, barely noticeable. "Correct," he said quietly, and a gust of wind rippled through the blood-red lake. 

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Three down. Two to go. 

But I knew the hardest questions were still to come.

The figure's voice became colder, cutting through the still air like a blade. "Fourth question: Before you stands a door, locked tight. Behind it lies the truth of your bloodline, the answers you seek, and the power to shape your destiny. But to unlock it, you must sever every bond you've ever formed with those you hold dear. Every friendship, every connection—gone. Will you open it?"

I felt my breath hitch. The truth about my bloodline? The power I had been chasing? It was all right there—waiting for me. But the cost... to sacrifice the people in my life, the ones who made me who I am? The thought clawed at me.

Would I still be Eli without them? Or just a hollow version of myself, with no one left to care for, no one left to care about me?

The temptation gnawed at my soul. With the power, I could finally understand everything. All the mysteries, all the struggles—it would all make sense. I could become the person I was destined to be. But if I opened that door... who would I be left with? No one. The Eli they knew would be gone.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding against my ribcage. The figure's eyes glowed with anticipation, watching me closely, waiting for the decision that would define everything.

"I..." My voice faltered, but then I felt it—clarity. "No," I said, louder this time, surer. "I won't open it."

The figure's eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"Because," I said, the answer becoming clearer with every word, "if I lose the people who care about me, then none of it will matter. The power, the truth—it's worthless if I have no one left to share it with. I'm not willing to pay that price."

A silence fell, the figure's expression inscrutable. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Correct."

I let out a breath, my legs trembling beneath me. Four questions answered. One more to go.

The blood-red water churned now, as if the lake itself was preparing for the final question. The figure stepped forward, closer than ever before, his voice barely a whisper.

"Final question: You have the power to rewrite your past, to erase every mistake, every regret. But doing so will change everything—your journey, your growth, your future. Do you change it?"

The world seemed to spin around me. I thought of all the mistakes I had made, the regrets that haunted me, the pain I had endured. The chance to erase it all—to start over—was right there.

But would I be the same person if I did? Would I have learned the lessons I needed to learn? Would I have grown into the person I was becoming?

The weight of the question pressed down on me like a vice, squeezing the air from my lungs.

"I wouldn't change it," I said finally, my voice steady. "Because those mistakes, those regrets, they made me who I am. Without them, I wouldn't be standing here. I wouldn't be ready for what's next."

The figure's eyes burned brighter for a moment, and then... he smiled.

"Correct."

The world around me exploded into light.

I gasped, feeling the air rush back into my lungs as the blood-red lake dissolved, and the figure vanished. The weight of the trial lifted, and I collapsed to the ground, my body trembling from the strain of it all.

But I had done it. I had passed the Trial of the Mind.

And yet, as I lay there, staring up at the sky, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was still waiting. Something darker, more dangerous, lurking just beyond the horizon.

The real test was yet to come.

And I wasn't sure I was ready for it. 

---

The next trial was Soul.

And somehow, I knew it would be the hardest one yet.