The Aetherion night was cold against Ethan's skin, which seemed to be humming with the city's starlight. His hands were still sore from etching the bind rune under Torren's stern stare last night, and the faint glow of it hung in his mind like a half-remembered dream. "The Council fears the tenth," Marcus wrote in his journal, and Lirien's rumor about a gate tainted by void ripped at him like a puzzle with too many missing pieces.
He followed Sylra Veyne through the lower corridors of the Starlit Sanctum, her flaming braid swaying like a comet's tail, her starlight blade glinting at her hip from her vine-like tattoos that glowed, channeling the energy of the stars to her blade. Lirien Thalor hovered at the back, her strides too light and too cautious, while Torren followed, his heavy boots echoing on the quartz floor.
Over her shoulder, Sylra called, "Keep up, Marcus," in a firm but gentle voice. The name made Ethan cringe, even though he had grown used to it in the last few weeks. He was Ethan Cole, an earthly journalist, not this deceased gatekeeper whose secrets continued to accumulate like debts. Marcus Reed's body, Marcus's rune, and Marcus's mission. His own blade, a thin curve of steel forged by starlight, bumped against his thigh as he nodded and accelerated his pace.
With its walls carved with faintly pulsing runes that resembled stars seen through a storm, the corridor sloped downward. Marcus's memories flickered as Ethan's fingers touched one, sending a shock of warmth through him. He remembered a shadowed figure and a whispered warning: "The tenth gate breaks us all." He pushed the memory away with a shake of his head. Concentrate. Marcus had abandoned the answers Sylra had promised, buried deep within the Sanctum.
With his scarred face and fiery beard partially illuminated by the runes, Torren muttered, "This better be worth the skulking. Valthor is watching you closely, Sylra. If he catches us—"
His emerald eyes flashed as Sylra snapped, "He won't. Marcus deserves this. We owe him." She softened her expression as she looked at Ethan, and he pondered how much of the man she had known she saw in the stranger who was wearing his face.
With her silver hair gleaming like frost in the rune-light, Lirien remained silent. She looked away as Ethan's eyes met hers, her fingers fluttering in the direction of her curved sword. The rumor from last night about a void-tainted gate and leaking shadows had sounded like a warning, but her hesitation and nervous tic felt like a lie. Was she testing him? Or concealing something worse?
They arrived at a sealed door with a mosaic of quartz panels that interlocked and were each engraved with a constellation. Muttering an incantation in the light of the stars, Sylra pressed her palm against a central rune. The panels shivered and ground apart, revealing a small room with an air that smelled strongly of old stone and ozone.
"Marcus's cache," Sylra said as she entered. "He referred to it as the secret of his Sanctum. Few of us were aware of it."
Ethan gasped in surprise. Shelves of rune-etched tablets and tools forged by starlight lined the walls of the tiny room, which was only ten paces wide. In the middle was a pedestal with a single star shard on it, a fist-sized, jagged crystal that glowed softly and pulsed. It made him think of the rune that read, "Find the tenth gate" on his hand. The shard seemed to be observing him, as his skin pricked.
Torren kept his hand on his blade and remained close to the door, grunting. "I've never enjoyed this place. For me, there are too many shadows."
With her gaze focused on the floor, Lirien lingered at the threshold. She whispered, "It's… sacred," but her voice faltered, and she remained a distance away.
After giving her a quick glance, Sylra motioned for Ethan to come closer. "Go on, Marcus. It was left for you by him.
With his heart pounding, Ethan walked over to the pedestal. The coded bits and pieces that Marcus had pieced together from his journal—"The Council hides the truth," "The Council fears the tenth"—had brought him to this point. Did Marcus know anything else? For what reason had he died? He reached for the fragment of star, and as soon as his fingers touched it, a voice, faint but sharp, like a bell ringing through emptiness, appeared in his mind.
When it said, "Beware the shadow," it was feminine and urgent. "The gate's seal frays. Trust only the light."
Ethan staggered as the light from the shard flared, casting jagged reflections across the room. Sylra grabbed his arm and raised him. "What is it? What did you hear?"
With the voice reverberating in his skull, he swallowed. Marcus remembered the name "Serathys," which he had uttered, as a High God of starlight who had been weakened since the Dawn War. She said, "Beware the shadow. The gate's seal frays. Trust only the light."
Sylra's grip tightened as her eyes grew wide. "Serathys? That's impossible. Since then, the High Gods have not spoken—"
"Since the Dawn War," Torren concluded in a quiet voice. "Or so says the Council. Valthor's been awfully quiet about the gods lately."
Lirien's face went white as she shifted with her back to the wall. "It's dangerous when a god's voice is held by a shard of star. We ought to leave it."
The flash of fear in her eyes caught Ethan's attention as he turned. Dangerous to whom? He thought. Not only had she not fully entered the chamber, she had not even touched the shard. Was it the voice of the god she feared, or what it might say? The void-tainted gate, which she had rumored last night, felt more acute now, like a blade concealed in a smile.
"No," Sylra said in a decisive tone. "There's a reason Marcus kept this a secret. The tenth gate might be represented by the shadow. Or the traitor about whom he forewarned us."
Torren glanced over at Lirien and nodded. "Or both. We must be aware of the challenges we face."
Ethan gripped the shard tightly, feeling its warmth radiate into his hand. Marcus's journal slammed into Serathys's caution, "Trust only the light": "The Council fears the tenth." Was the betrayed god Zorathys trapped in Nullvox as a shadow? Or a more intimate one, such as Valthor, whose perceptive inquiries had been like a noose being tightened? The weight of the shard was both a promise and a burden as he slipped it into his satchel.
The silence was broken by Sylra's statement, "We train tomorrow." "Team tactics, Marcus. We cannot be taken by surprise if the gates are deteriorating. Torren, you're with me. Lirien…" Her eyes narrowed as she hesitated. "You're in, right?"
Lirien gave an overly rapid nod. "Certainly. I'll… I'll be there." However, Ethan's stomach twisted as her hand remained on her dagger. Something is being concealed by her.
The training grounds were a great square surrounded by quartz pillars that hummed with latent starlight and beneath the starlit spires of Aetherion. Prismatic shadows were created on the stone by the light of dawn filtering through the crystallized sky. Ethan stood with Sylra, Torren, and Lirien, his muscles sore from last night's rune-etching, the star shard's warning still ringing in his ears. "Beware the shadow."
With a voice that cut through the morning chill, Sylra clapped her hands. "Marcus, gatekeepers don't live by themselves. Voidspawn swarms, and bleeds, don't wait for heroes. We must move together or perish."
Ethan clutched his blade and nodded. Fragments of gatekeeper tactics, such as flanking runes and surge coordination, were provided by Marcus's recollections, but they were vague, like a song that has been partially forgotten. According to the realm-bleeds question, he would have to pick things up quickly, especially since Lirien had speculated that a void-tainted gate was imminent.
Torren hefted a training dummy, which had fake runes engraved on its surface. "We will begin simply. Bind rune to hold, surge to strike. Marcus, you anchor. Sylra, flank. Lirien, scout."
Ethan's satchel, which held the star shard, caught Lirien's attention as she hesitated. "Scout? I'd rather—"
Sylra said, "Scout," without allowing any room for debate. "You move quickly. Use it."
Biting her lip, Lirien nodded and moved fluidly but tensely to the edge of the plaza. Serathys's voice echoed as Ethan watched her leave, saying, "Trust only the light." Was Lirien the shadow? Or did his paranoia make him see traitors everywhere he looked?
The edge of her blade shimmered with starlight as Sylra drew it. "Focus, Marcus. Voidspawn don't give second chances."
The drill began. Torren activated the dummy, its runes flaring as it lurched forward, mimicking a Voidspawn's jerky gait. With his fingers following the pattern, Ethan etched a bind rune in the air, the starlight combining to form a luminous net. The dummy was snared, but the rune wavered as Marcus's memories of a scream, a shadowed blade, and "The tenth gate!" caused him to lose focus.
"Steady!" With a growl, Torren slashed his blade into the dummy's flank, sending sparks of starlight flying. The dummy's core cracked as Sylra rushed in, her surge—a burst of starlight energy. Ethan's brow was sweating as he tightened his hold and stabilized the bind rune.
From the edge came Lirien's voice. "Clear!" Ethan looked over at her, but her tone was clipped and strange. Her hand was on its rune as she stood next to a pillar, her gaze once more focused on the satchel. She's avoiding the shard, he realized.
"Again!" Resetting the dummy, Sylra gave the command. This time, Torren's blow was more precise, Sylra's surge broke the dummy's arm, and Ethan's bind rune remained solid. Lirien conducted reconnaissance, but her reports were ambiguous, and she was never visible.
An hour later, with her breath standing out in the cold, Sylra halted. "Not bad, Marcus. You're catching on. Torren, solid as always. Lirien…" Her brow furrowed. "Step it up. We need you sharp."
Lirien smiled brittlely as she nodded. "I'll do better. Promise." She remained by the pillar, however, her fingers twitching.
With his eyes on Ethan, Torren wiped his hammer. "Compared to last night, you held the rune longer. A talent for binds was always Marcus's. You're… close."
It hurt to be complimented, so Ethan forced a smile. I'm not him. However, Sylra's faith and Torren's trust kept him grounded despite Lirien's growing distance. The star shard in his satchel pulsed faintly, Serathys's voice a whisper: "The gate's seal frays."
Ethan sat by himself that night in his quarters, a small room with a view of Aetherion's spires. The fragment of a star rested on his desk, its light creating writhing shadows. He'd re-read Marcus's journal, the coded lines now hauntingly clear: "The Council fears the tenth. It's not just a gate—it's a prison." A prison for Zorathys, the betrayed god? Or even worse?
The caution from Serathys, "Beware the shadow," seemed like a puzzle. The void-energy leaking from the shadow might be the tenth gate. Or Valthor, whose inquiries had been tinged with mistrust. Or Lirien, who had stayed away from the shard as if it were poison. Another flash of Marcus's memory appeared as Ethan's fingers followed the shard: a Council chamber and Valthor's words, "The gates must stay sealed, at all costs." However, his eyes had shone with hunger rather than fear.
He was startled by a knock. Sylra was standing at the door, looking grim and sporting a loose braid. We must have a conversation, Marcus. Concerning Lirien.
Ethan stiffened and motioned her inside. "You also noticed it?"
Sylra shut the door behind her and said, "She's off." She was alarmed by the shard. And that rumor about a gate that is tainted by void—it's just too convenient. We were warned by Marcus about a traitor, and I'm beginning to suspect.
Ethan felt his heart race. "You believe that she is collaborators with Valthor?"
Sylra gave a headshake. "I have no idea. She isn't giving us all the details, though. She is being watched by Torren, but we need evidence. Additionally, that shard, She dropped her voice as she looked at it. Serathys doesn't mince words. We are running out of time if the seal on the gate is deteriorating."
With the weight of the journal, the training, and the shard pressing down, Ethan nodded. He wanted to clarify, "I'm just a guy who died and woke up in a nightmare; I'm not Marcus." However, Reed's mission was now his, and with each hint, the shadow of the tenth gate grew larger.
Sylra stated that Lirien would be pushed in training tomorrow. Watch to see if she breaks. And you hold on to that shard. There must be a reason why Serathys picked you.
Ethan gazed at the fragment, its light pulsing like a heartbeat, as she walked away.