The mountain was silent. Too silent.
Even the echoes of the battle had vanished, swallowed by a stillness that felt ancient and watchful. Cled stood in the center of the shattered cavern, golden aura fading to a faint shimmer around his trembling frame. His dagger—once bright as sunlight—was now dim, streaked with cracks of dull amber light.
The shadow was gone. Or perhaps… waiting.
The fissures around him glowed faintly green, pulsing in rhythm with his own heartbeat. Each throb echoed like the ticking of a cosmic clock, and the air itself seemed to breathe. He could feel it—the mountain watching, measuring, remembering.
Then, from the darkness, came a sound. A low hum. Deep, resonant, and alive.
Cled turned slowly, eyes narrowing. The sound came from the heart chamber itself—the great crystalline mass pulsing at the center of the abyss, now glowing brighter than ever. Golden and green energy swirled around it in perfect harmony, like the dance of stars at creation. But beneath that beauty was something… unsettling. The hum was not just energy. It was a voice. A consciousness awakening.
> "You have trespassed far enough, child of the broken sky."
The voice wasn't heard—it was felt. It vibrated through his bones, through the air, through the memory of everything that had ever existed.
Cled fell to one knee, clutching his chest. "Who… who are you?"
> "I am the Heart. The pulse of what was before your sky cracked. The guardian of the truth you seek."
The words resonated within him, each one shaking loose fragments of buried memory. Images flashed—visions of the world before the fracture, of skies whole and brilliant, of beings made of light. And then the fall… the shattering… and the endless descent into frost.
The Heart pulsed again, brighter, harsher.
> "You seek power. But power without balance devours its bearer."
"I didn't ask for this!" Cled shouted, forcing himself upright, golden light flaring around him. "The Sky called me! The crack—"
> "—was born of greed and sorrow. Of souls that reached too high."
The air rippled, and the ground beneath his feet splintered like glass. From the walls, faces began to emerge—shadows of ancient warriors, trapped within the ice, their eyes glowing faintly green. Their mouths moved in silent screams.
Cled stumbled back, horror coursing through him. "What… what is this?"
> "Judgment."
The faces moved, separating from the ice, becoming translucent figures, warriors of pure frost and memory. Their eyes locked on him—not in hatred, but in recognition. They had all been like him once—chosen, tested, broken.
They charged.
Cled raised his dagger just in time. The first spirit struck, its icy blade colliding with his golden aura in a flash of brilliance. Pain shot through his arm as he was thrown backward, skidding across the frozen ground. The second came instantly, silent but swift. He dodged, twisted, slashed, the air cracking with each motion.
They were fast—too fast. Each strike he blocked came from three more directions. His aura began to flicker, golden light struggling against the weight of eternity pressing down on him.
> "This is your measure," the Heart thundered. "The weight of every soul who failed before you. Stand, or be forgotten."
Cled's knees trembled. He could feel the cold seeping into his blood, gnawing at his resolve. The whispers of the abyss returned, not taunting now, but sorrowful.
"Stand, Cled… remember who you are…"
His father's voice.
It echoed faintly within the storm of chaos, pulling at something deep in his chest. The memory of warmth, of a hand on his shoulder, of a man who once said—"When the sky cracks, son, it's not the end of the world. It's a chance to see what's beneath it."
Cled's eyes snapped open, burning gold. "I'm not afraid of the abyss."
He drove his dagger into the ice, channeling the last of his strength. The ground erupted with golden light, lines of energy spreading like lightning across the cavern. The spirits froze mid-charge, their forms fracturing under the brilliance.
The Heart pulsed faster.
> "Defiance… even now?"
Cled raised his head, eyes fierce. "Not defiance—clarity."
He lifted his hand, and the Sky energy within him surged. Golden veins spread up his arms, merging with the rhythm of the mountain's pulse. The air roared as the two energies—Sky and Abyss—merged in violent harmony.
The cavern exploded with light. The frost melted, the walls cracked, and the spirits screamed as they dissolved into streams of energy that spiraled into the Heart. The green glow turned blinding white.
For a brief, infinite moment, Cled felt everything.
Every heartbeat of the mountain.
Every memory of the souls who came before him.
Every echo of the sky above.
He was one with it.
And then… silence.
Cled opened his eyes. The chamber was empty. The fissures were gone. The mountain no longer trembled. All that remained was the Heart, hovering before him—small now, no larger than a fist, its once-blinding light now pulsing softly.
> "You have faced judgment and survived," it said. "But survival is not victory. You carry the fracture within you now. It will grow, as will what watches from beyond."
"What do you mean?" he asked, voice trembling.
> "The abyss is not an enemy. It is a mirror. And soon… it will call your name."
The Heart's glow dimmed, then faded entirely, leaving behind only a faint golden ember floating in the air. Cled reached out, and as his fingers brushed it, a surge of warmth flowed into him—gentle, powerful, endless.
For a moment, peace.
And then—
The mountain shuddered.
A low rumble echoed from deep below. The ground cracked. The golden ember in his palm darkened, veins of green snaking through it like infection.
Cled's eyes widened. "No…"
The air grew heavy. The frost returned, thicker, darker, alive. From the newly formed fissure below him, a sound rose—a deep, guttural breath, ancient and hungry.
> "So… the vessel is ready."
A voice older than the mountain itself spoke from the abyss.
And this time, it wasn't the Heart.
The fissure exploded outward, blinding green light consuming everything.
---
Cliffhanger:
The Heart's test ends—but its peace is fleeting. As Cled receives its blessing, a darker presence awakens beneath the mountain. The true abyss has taken notice, and it speaks his name.