The sun hung low in the sky, burning gold across the dunes, painting every grain of sand in a relentless brilliance that made the desert seem infinite. Evren Calden and Lira Solen had pressed onward for hours, the Dune Labyrinth and the Mirage of Memories behind them, but the Tower's trials had not yet released its grip. Ahead, the desert shifted again, and in the distance shimmered a pool of water—a rare oasis.
Relief washed over them at first glance, but instinct screamed caution. Nothing the Tower offered came without a price. As they approached, the water's surface rippled unnaturally, reflecting not the sky above, but twisted visions of themselves. Lira saw a version of herself free from the curse that had driven her here, smiling and unburdened. Evren saw his mother, healthy and laughing, safe in a world beyond the Tower.
The Abyssal Flame pulsed lightly along his sword, reacting to the emotional pull of the visions. Evren's heart ached with longing; for a moment, the fatigue of the last trials seemed unbearable. What if this is real? What if… His mind faltered.
"Evren," Lira's voice broke through, sharp and unwavering. "It's an illusion. The Tower knows what you desire most. Don't let it trap you here."
Evren clenched his fists, the memories of Caro Den, the Night of the Howls, and the Mirage of Memories fueling his resolve. He stepped forward, sword in hand, flames igniting with a soft hum. This is a trial of the heart, not the body. I cannot falter.
As they reached the water, the reflections shifted violently, forming phantoms that emerged from the pool. These were not the creatures of the dunes, but visions of climbers they had yet to meet, faces contorted in pain, doubt, and fear. Their movements were swift and unnatural, like puppets guided by the Tower's will.
The first phantom lunged at Evren, a twisted echo of Caro, wielding an ethereal sword. Evren swung his Abyssal Flame, the blade slicing through illusion and leaving nothing but the dissipating echo of a friend he had mourned. Another surged from the water—a shadow of himself, older and broken, screaming of failure and loss.
Evren's heart pounded. Every strike demanded not just precision, but the ability to resist the emotional weight pressing down on him. Lira fought beside him, her daggers a blur of motion, striking with deadly accuracy. "The Tower feeds on what you hold dear," she reminded him between breaths. "Use it. Don't let it use you!"
Hours passed, or perhaps minutes—the desert distorted time in ways Evren could not measure. Each phantom that emerged from the oasis demanded more than strength: it required clarity of mind, control of emotion, and trust in the Abyssal Flame. Evren realized with each encounter that this trial was not merely a test of survival—it was a reflection of his own determination, a crucible of his commitment to the promise he had made.
Finally, only the still waters remained. The phantoms dissolved into mist, leaving Evren and Lira alone. The desert seemed to exhale, the sands shifting gently as if approving their endurance. Evren knelt by the oasis, the reflection of the sky in the water calming his racing heart. He touched the surface lightly, and for a fleeting second, he could almost feel his mother's warmth, her laughter, her fragile heartbeat.
Lira rested beside him, silently acknowledging the victory. "You faced the illusions, Evren. You faced your heart. Not everyone survives this trial."
Evren's gaze drifted to the horizon, where the last rays of sunlight turned the dunes to molten gold. He thought of his mother, the promise that had driven him here, the Abyssal Flame that now felt like a part of his soul. I cannot stop. I will climb. I will endure. I will survive.
The Tower whispered again, the wind carrying the soft, resonant words that stirred both dread and determination:
> "Every reflection, every longing, every desire—harness it. The Desert of Souls has tested your mind and heart, but the climb is far from over. Continue, Evren Calden. The Tower watches."
Night fell gently, stars scattered across the desert like scattered fragments of a dream. Evren rose slowly, every movement heavy with exhaustion but resolute in purpose. The Oasis of Reflection had revealed the depth of the Tower's cruelty, but it had also shown him the strength that resided within him.
The climb continued, relentless and unyielding, and Evren Calden would meet it head-on.