The battleground that was Ethan's sleep was a blur of darkness and starlight that pulled him into Marcus Reed's past. Unbidden, the dream was as sharp as a blade: a gate-chamber with cracked quartz walls and a void-tremor-heavy atmosphere. Standing by himself, Marcus raised his starlight blade to confront a cloaked figure with a shadowed face. The low hiss of the figure's voice was recognizable but distorted—Valthor Drayce or someone imitating his rhythm? The figure raised a hand and said, "Marcus, you should have kept quiet." Marcus's scream sent a black-as-ink pulse of void-energy zipping out, tearing Ethan's skull apart.
With the star shard in his satchel pulsing faintly on his bedside table and its glow creating jagged shadows across his Aetherion quarters, he woke up gasping. His heart thumped, the weight of the dream pressing down on him like a boulder. With her voice trapped in the shard Marcus concealed in the Sanctum's cache, Serathys had issued a warning: "Beware the shadow." Was the figure in the cloak the shadow? Valthor, the elder of the Council whose incisive questions had seemed like a trap? Or another person, or the most recent hint in the journal: "The Council fears the tenth"?
Opening Marcus's journal, whose leather had been worn from many nights spent deciphering its secrets, made Ethan's fingers shake. He was reminded of the voice saying, "Find the tenth gate" by the throbbing rune of starlight on his hand. After deciphering Marcus's pattern, he turned to the most recent page, whose cipher was easier to understand. With a tremor of fear in every stroke, the words came out from beneath his quill: "The void whispers to the weak."
Breathing heavily, he gazed at the sentence. Zorathys's domain, the void, whispering to the weak? Sylra had suspicions about Lirien because she had avoided the star shard yesterday. Is the truth about the tenth gate being concealed by the Council? His mind was filled with the cloaked figure from the dream, whose voice echoed Valthor's smooth menace. Although Ethan was not Marcus, he now had Marcus's enemies, and the starry spires of Aetherion felt more like a cage than a sanctuary.
The sound of a knock broke his thoughts. Standing at the door, Torren's scarred face was grim in the rune-light of the hallway. "Come on, Marcus. Training at dawn. Void-resistance meditation. It will be necessary if the bleeding worsens."
Ethan tucked the journal and shard into his satchel and nodded. "Void-resistance?" he inquired, his voice steady in spite of the reverberations of the dream. Fragments of Marcus's memories came from his experiences: gatekeepers practicing meditation to protect their minds from the pull of void-energy, a technique developed in response to realm-bleeds.
Torren's eyes narrowed, as though he could sense Ethan's lack of experience. "You also forgot that? Come on. Sylra's waiting, and Lirien…" His jaw tightened as he paused. "She is running late. Again."
With Lirien's absence mirroring her actions—dodging Sylra's questions and avoiding the shard—Ethan's stomach turned. "The void whispers to the weak." Did she hear it?
The dawn light was muffled by the crystalline haze of Aetherion, making the training grounds quieter than they had been the day before. The pillars of quartz stood guard, their runes faint, as though the city itself was holding its breath. With her fiery braid swinging and her starlight blade sheathed but ready, Sylra paced close to a central platform. Torren showed Ethan a circle of etched runes, which had different patterns than the bind runes. These runes were tighter, sharper, and meant to serve as mental anchors.
"Where is Lirien now?" Sylra's voice was sharp as she asked. "She said that she would be present."
With his hand resting on his hammer, Torren shrugged. "She promised to meet us. Something to do with inspecting the outer gates."
Sylra's gaze shifted to Ethan and back again. She whispered, "Convenient," repeating what they had discussed the previous evening: Lirien is off. Today, we push her. The weight of the star shard in his satchel served as a silent reminder of Serathys's warning, and Ethan nodded slightly.
"Sit," Torren said, gesturing to the circle of the rune. "This is where void-resistance begins." With his wide body creating a shadow, he knelt across from Ethan. "The emptiness isn't just outside—" he pointed to the heavens, where slight tremors shook the starlight, "—it's inside your head. It whispers and tugs at your uncertainties. A wall is built by meditation."
The chilly stone stung through Ethan's cloak as he sat cross-legged. A gatekeeper's mind unraveling, eyes black with void-energy, babbling about "the gate that sings" was among the fleeting memories Marcus could recall. The journal's words, "The void whispers to the weak," struck too close, and he shuddered. His voice remained steady as he asked, "How do I start?"
Torren's eyes were sharp. "Concentrate on your rune. You are anchored by the starlight. Think of a gate that is tightly closed. It will be tested by the void—push back."
Ethan brushed the rune of starlight across his shoulder and closed his eyes. A quartz gate with Serathys's light illuminating its surface flashed into his mind as its warmth flared. However, the dream infiltrated Marcus, showing the cloaked figure's void-pulse ripping through him. "You ought to have kept your mouth shut." A whisper crept through the gate of his mind, "Weak, so weak…"
"Focus!" Torren's voice was a lifeline as he snapped. Marcus, the rune. Hold on to it.
Ethan tightened his jaw, making the image of the gate become more definite. He was steadied by the warmth of the rune as the whisper subsided. Sweat trickled down his brow as he opened his eyes. He said,""Got it"" even though his heart was still pounding.
A rare gleam of approval appeared in Torren's eyes as he nodded.""Better... That's what you'll need when the bleeds starts. They are more than just tremors now.
With her arms folded, Sylra took a step closer. Any chance that Marcus's cache is connected to Lirien's rumor about a void-tainted gate, speaking of bleeds? The shard... The words of Serathys are not in vain.
Ethan's grip on his satchel became more firm.""Perhaps. 'The void whispers to the weak,"" the journal stated. Perhaps the tenth gate, or… The veiled figure from the dream flashed through his mind as he hesitated.""A member of the council""
Sylra's eyes became gloomy. "Valthor?"
The plaza was interrupted by a shout before Ethan could respond. With her dagger out and her white hair unkempt, Lirien ran in their direction. Voidspawn! She exclaimed. "Outer gate, sector three. Small pack, but fast."
With his hammer in hand, Torren stood up. "How many?"
Keeping her gaze away from Ethan's satchel, Lirien uttered,""Five, maybe six"" They are trying to open the gate. We must relocate.
With a curse, Sylra pulled out her blade. "Team tactics, now. Marcus, you're on binds. Torren, anchor. Lirien, scout ahead. Let's head out."
A towering arch of quartz and starlight, the outer gate loomed at the edge of Aetherion, its runes flickering wildly. Ethan's teeth were twitched by the low hum of void-energy buzzing through the air. His mind echoed with the scream of the dream—Marcus's death, the cloaked figure—but he pushed it away while holding onto his blade. Serathys's voice was a soft murmur as the star fragment pulsated in his satchel, saying,""Trust only the light""
With her shape blending into the spires' shadows, Lirien sprang forward. With their blade and hammer glowing, Sylra and Torren stood on either side of Ethan. From the haze outside the gate, the Voidspawn appeared as six massive figures with eyes like voids and bodies a patchwork of black scales and writhing tendrils. Memories of the skirmish came flooding back, causing Ethan's stomach to turn over: Taryn's body, ripped apart.
"Bind rune, now!" Sylra bellowed.
Ethan followed the pattern; a glowing net formed by the coiling of starlight from his rune. Two Voidspawn were caught in its grasp, their tendrils flailing against the binds. With sparks of starlight flying, Torren charged, his hammer smashing through one's flank. Sylra's surge and the pure starlight from her tattoos blasted another, and it screamed in a high-pitched voice.
From the haze came Lirien's voice. "To the left flank, two more" However, she was in the wrong place—too hidden, too far away. Ethan's attention wavered, and his bind rune flickered. With the words from the journal—"The void whispers to the weak"—ringing in his mind, he thought, She's not scouting right.
"Wait!" Ethan was slashed by a tendril, but Torren roared and parried it. The remaining Voidspawn were trapped when the bind rune stabilized. They were defeated by Sylra's surge, and the creatures fell into puddles of black sludge.
The plaza became quiet as the runes on the gate steadied. Lirien came out with her breath erratic and her dagger clean. "It's clear," she said, but her gaze quickly returned to Ethan's satchel.
Sheathing her blade, Sylra fixed her intense gaze. "Lirien, you were late for that call. What is happening?"
Lirien winced. "I… got turned around. The fog."
Sylra sternly said, "Save it. We'll discuss this later. Marcus, are you alright?"
With his rune-hand burning, Ethan nodded. He was unable to unravel the web that the dream, the journal, and Lirien's hesitancy had created. "Yeah," he said in a rough voice. "Let's return."
With the journal in hand and the star shard glowing next to it, Ethan returned to his quarters. "The void whispers to the weak" was the decoded line that recoiled, either as a warning or as a taunt. He was haunted by the cloaked figure in the dream, whose voice sounded too much like Valthor's and like the person manipulating Aetherion. Was Marcus betrayed by Valthor? Or was Lirien already lost to the void, with her evasiveness and hazy reconnaissance?
He closed his eyes and meditated according to Torren's method. In his mind, the quartz gate remained solid, but the faint but persistent whisper returned: "Weak, so weak…" He pushed it away, grounded by the rune of starlight. I'm not weak, he thought. I will complete what Marcus began, even though I am not him.
Softer this time, there was a knock. Standing there by herself, Sylra had a somber expression. She entered and remarked, "Torren is observing Lirien." "She's slipping, Marcus. She is not with us, as evidenced by the shard, the rumor, and now this."
Ethan gripped the fragment, its light unwavering. "Serathys said to trust the light. However, the journal claims that the weak are the targets of the void. Could it be that Lirien has already been compromised?"
Sylra clenched her jaw. "Then we discover evidence. We'll face her tomorrow. But the shard is bigger than her, as is the tenth gate. We will be entering a war for which we are unprepared if Valthor is the shadow."
Ethan nodded as the scream from the dream reverberated. "You ought to have kept your mouth shut."