Having three familiars and two rare skills would normally be enough to ensure victory in most circumstances. When it came to trials, though, the logic was reversed. The more and stronger skills an awakened had, the stronger the enemies would become. Also, there were other drawbacks. Ever since Dallion has started walking along the Path of the Empath, he has been careful not to destroy items in battle, including enemy armor. Sadly, the same didn’t hold true for the echoes the trials created.

As usual, Dallion walked along the corridor until he reached the door without a room.

“Your building sense is crap,” the shardfly said while fluttering next to Dallion’s head. “Harp’s domain is way better.”

“I know.”

“Why don’t you do anything about it?”

“I’ll fix things up once I pass through the next gate,” Dallion lied. In truth, he was going to leave everything to Gen, who already was doing a good job trying to make up for Dallion’s poor design choices.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped in.

You’re in the halls of destiny.

Defeat your hidden fears and shape your future!

A blue rectangle blocked Dallion’s way. When he waved his hand through it, the rectangle shattered into a cloud of blue dust, revealing a cave-like tunnel.

“So, we’re going with a cave again,” Dallion said. This was the third time in a row that his challenges involved a cave-like setting. According to Nil, there was no significance in that—while the actual challenge was based on the particular person, the surroundings had no relation to it whatsoever.

Medieval torches lit up one after the other for the next twenty feet, after which they suddenly stopped. In the past, Dallion would have been concerned. Now, though, he had both the skills and the perception to avoid most traps. Also, he had a firebird.

“Lift me up, Lux.”

Within seconds, he was in the air enveloped by a layer of blue flames.

“Give me some light.”

The flames got brighter, lighting up the section of the cave. Even so, there was nothing but darkness ahead.

Shadows, Dallion thought. I wondered when I’d be facing a chainling.

There are a lot of other things that steal light, dear boy, Nil said. Keep an open mind and be on guard.

Always am. Dallion floated forward. The darkness grew surrounding him completely. At this point, he could no longer see the torches of the entrance. All his senses told him that he was in the middle of a vast void. Then the whispers started.

At first, there were only sounds. With a bit of imagination, one could mistake it for rain or rustling trees. Slowly, however, they changed. Sounds became words, then sentences. And as the sentences became understandable, the first wound occurred. It was little more than a pinprick, but when Dallion brushed his hand along his cheek, there was blood on his fingers. As he looked, another scar appeared, this time on his hand.

Shield, Dallion said as he split into instances.

The first part of the trial was already clear—the cave of cutting sarcasm. There probably was a better name, though this seemed fitting. From what Dallion could determine, the words were aimed to be attacks. Individually, they didn’t cause much harm—not enough even for a red rectangle. Together, however, they were a lot more lethal, and just like thousands of ants could devour any creature, so could a torrent of words cut through Dallion, dealing enough damage for him to fail the trial.

Focusing on the sounds, Dallion started singing. As he suspected, this proved not to be enough. While the words emanating from his song were enough to offer some protection, they didn’t stop the attacks, which were constantly increasing.

Music, Dallion thought, still singing.

The darkness inside him lit up like a techno dance club. All the sounds became visible now, starting as a single dot, then expanding like a sphere—just as a soundwave would behave—before fading away. Based on the pattern, Dallion could use Lux to evade them, by flying wildly in various directions. However, he chose not to. Remembering his middle-school physics classes, he knew that a sound wave could be negated by creating an identical soundwave that is a hundred and eighty degrees out of phase. In this case, since each soundwave carried an emotion, all he had to do was create a sound with the polar opposite emotion.

Summoning his harpsisword, Dallion played a chord, all the time continuing to sing. Waves emanated from him, expanding like bubbles until they touched the whispers, causing both to pop out of existence. There was still the occasional comment that made its way through, but between Dallion’s actions and Lux’s healing, he was quite safe. Now the more complicated part began—solving the actual puzzle, as Nil would put it.

Even using his music skills, there was nothing to see in the surrounding darkness. Trying to set a baseline, Dallion had Lux fly him forward. Initially, nothing changed, but after a while there was a noticeable reduction in whispers. Not only that, but Dallion found that they were twice as abundant on the left side.

His gamer mind kicked in. Back on Earth, some games relied on enemies and items to lead the players along the correct path. From what it looked like, the trial did the same, or as Nil would put it, “the only way to reach your goal is to take the challenges—whispers in this case—head on.”

You know what to do, Lux, Dallion said. Go slow.

Dallion’s hunch turned out to be correct. The moment he changed direction, the whispers intensified. What was a trickle became a pouring flood.

MINOR WOUND

Your health has been decreased by 5%

Dozens of attacks bled through his defenses all at once, enough to cause actual damage. This made things a bit more complicated. Even with Lux’s healing ability, there was no way he’d last more than ten seconds.

Shield, Dallion thought.

The armadil shield extended, creating a sphere around Dallion. Meanwhile, Lux jumped off of him, in order to keep the shield in the air.

You could use my name from time to time, the shield sighed.

It’s a bit complicated to remember.

That’s what I get for indulging you early on.

The whispers bounced off the exterior of the sphere like hail on metal. Even with this protection, Dallion kept on playing his harpsisword. That was one of the qualities of sound—even special armor didn’t stop it completely, only diminished it.

The pressure outside continued to build up. At one point Dallion felt as if he were back at the arena with the crowd roaring all around. Once again scars formed on him, despite all his efforts. Then, all of a sudden, the whispers vanished.

For several moments Dallion kept what he was doing, expecting a second wave.

Everything alright out there? he asked.

You can stop singing now, the shield replied.

Dallion did just that. The next thing he did was to order the shield to contract to its original form.

The surroundings were much different from what he expected. The darkness had vanished completely, replaced by endless whiteness.

So far so good, Dallion thought as Lux returned to him. Any idea what follows now, Nil?

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea,” a voice said. Between two blinks a new figure appeared in the white space, facing Dallion. It too was able to float, only the wings it had weren’t made of flames, but smoke and shadow.

Seeing the Star, Dallion immediately split into a dozen instances, all but one moving as far away from the Star as possible in every direction. Surprisingly, the Star didn’t move, remaining where he was, a cocky smile on his face.

“Quite the greeting. I see you’ve missed me.”

“So, you’re my trial,” Dallion said, mentally reciting the Moon’s names.

“Oh?” The Star’s smile widened. “That’s the logical thing to say. Flaws represent our greatest fears, and I would be that. Of course, it’s only that—a fear. I can’t do anything to harm you. At worst, I’ll prevent you from leveling up for a day.”

Dallion swallowed. Everything the Star was saying was true, including it being Dallion’s greatest fear. He’d feared the same ever since he saw the memories of his grandfather. There was a time back in Nerosal during which he thought he had dealt with the issue, but clearly, he hadn’t… not completely, at least.

“It’s not a serious punishment,” the Star continued. “Hardly punishment at all, come to think of it. One single day for messing up what could be a life-breaking decision. But—and this is the big one, what—what if it isn’t part of the trial?”

“That’s what an echo created for the trial would say. Just like the echo of my grandfather.”

“Ah, yes. Your old man—the one who was so happy to help you take your first steps in the world of the awakened. Why do you think his attitude changed when you went back? You saw it yourself. He wasn’t happy you were there. Why do you think that way? Because you went back to the dump that was your village? No one would be upset about that. He was upset because he saw my influence within you.”

Spark! Dallion summoned his whip blade and waves it in the direction of the Star. The blade extended, striking its target. However, no red rectangle appeared.

“Didn’t the same happen before?” the star asked, ignoring the attack completely. “Ever wondered how I entered the training dagger? After all, I wasn’t physically there—the captains would have noticed if I had been. No, I was already in your mind. You simply didn’t notice.”

“If you were in my mind, why did you try to kill me?”

“Did I try to kill you?” The Star tilted his head. “All I did was try to change your way of thinking. The only reason it didn’t work was because you somehow became a favored of the Moon. Of course, that changed when you decided to save that ridiculous shardfly. The moment that happened, there was nothing protecting you.”

Dallion struck again, this time spinning the whip blade around him, in order to sever his enemy. The razor-sharp fragments sliced through the torso of the Star, but the parts didn’t detach.

“I defeated you at the arena,” Dallion said.

“The copyette defeated me. Smart move bringing it along. I knew you didn’t kill it, but I didn’t imagine you’d carry it in public and at the arena of all places. Some things really defy logic.”

Reality and fear merged. Dallion knew that this was a trial, it had to be—the Star was repeating the exact same fears that Dallion had been fighting with for months. However, the question remained: what if they were true? The Star had managed to worm its way into the mind of many throughout the ages. It had tricked the nymphs, it had tricked the dryads, even the copyette that had tried to take over the world. Why should Dallion be any different?

It’s just a trial, a melodious voice echoed from Dallion’s realm. He hasn’t taken over your mind. I wouldn’t allow that.

How can you be sure, Harp? Dallion asked. What if I turn out like that, anyway?

That’s not the right question you should be asking yourself, the nymph replied. Better ask what you’re supposed to do if you didn’t turn out that way?

The Star laughed. There were no weapons on him—he didn’t need any. Facing him without the support of the Moons was the same as fighting an Overseer one on one. There was no chance of a simple seer to succeed.

“I can’t win against you, can I?” Dallion asked, flicking his weapon back, so the blade assembled.

“Not even theoretically.”

“Then I won’t fight you.”

“An interesting approach. But there’s a small flaw. You’re not the active party. I’m not the one burdened by empathy. You are.”

“You’re right. But I didn’t say there wouldn’t be someone else fighting instead of me.”

The entire room turned green.