The First Trial

The statue watches me.

Its eyes are stone again, but something changed when they opened. The air feels heavier. The glowing runes ripple like disturbed water.

Behind me, Ren mutters, "I don't like this."

Me neither.

But I step closer.

The room tilts.

And then; nothing.

I'm falling.

Not through space- through time. Through someone else's life.

And then I land.

Not hard. Just… there.

The world around me is made of fire and glass. Red smoke coils across a sky that doesn't feel real. Towers of black crystal rise like jagged bones. And in front of them, an army kneels; thousands of figures, heads bowed in silence.

They're facing a massive throne carved from stone and light.

Sitting on it is-

Me.

But not this me.

Taller. Older. Dressed in black and gold, with a crown made of flame. Her eyes are glowing, and when she speaks, the sound shakes the air.

"Let them fear what they've buried."

I don't know the language, but the meaning crashes into my mind anyway. Like a memory half-remembered.

And then it changes.

The throne and the fire vanish.

Now I'm back in the cellar.

Eight years old. Bare feet on freezing stone. My hands are small again. My breath comes out in clouds.

The door creaks open.

The priest stands there.

He doesn't speak. Just looks down at me like I'm a problem. A curse. Something the gods made wrong.

But then-

A voice behind me. Not his.

Not mine.

Ancient. Familiar. Powerful.

"You forgot yourself… but your power never did."

I blink.

And I'm back in the temple.

Ren's gone.

My chest is tight. My fingers tremble.

The statue hasn't moved; but it feels different. Like it's waiting.

Behind it, a doorway has appeared. Formed from fire and light, flickering but solid.

The flames don't burn me.

They part like curtains, making way.

The first trial is over.