Raen had never seen a sky like the one above Layer Seven. Not in the black color spectrum. Not null and void. But countless reflections of faces he didn't recognize, some burning, some crying, some just observing.
As they walked in, Ember Vow whispered, "Don't look too long." "Everyone who has attempted to control it is remembered by this layer."
"Most of them failed," Jester Wyrm said, spinning once in midair. Some were successful. They all... changed.
The land was made of jagged obsidian, which had an inward-pointing crown-like shape. A monolithic structure stood in the distance, a throne carved out of screaming stone that was held aloft by regret-based chains.
There was no way to it.
The Abyss, however, created one.
Under Raen's feet, a bridge of soullight developed. Hollowfang whimpered as he moved forward.
"Remain here," Raen said softly.
Hopelessness Maw let out a low moan of disapproval. Ember Vow's hands clenched. She didn't want him to walk by himself either.
However, he had to.
This trial wasn't a conflict.
It was a good deal.
The throne throbbed with ancient awareness as he drew closer. Behind it, shadows moved, shapes too big to understand. The Sovereigns. Or what was left of them.
He heard a deep, slick voice that sounded like a combination of honey and oil.
**"Give yourself a name."**
Raen didn't think twice. "Raen Tiberis."
** "Claimed, Burned, Bound, Broken."**
"I'm still upright."
** "You want to be powerful. It is offered by the throne. Will you accept it?**
Raen turned to the throne. at the chains. Below it, at the skeletons buried in the stone. Each used to be a beast master. Rather than walking alongside the Abyss, each had attempted to govern it.
He declared, "I refuse to sit on a throne composed of chains."
**"Then you will never be in charge."
Raen's tone grew softer. "All right. I'd rather not be in charge. I'd like to *free*.
Not a word.
Then there was laughter. I'm not kidding.
Startled.
The bridge shook. The chains broke.
The throne became divided.
Something else emerged from its ruin.
A simple, flat, unadorned circle of stone. No seat. No crown.
However, blue fire poured out of the crevices. Not hungry, but gentle.
Raen took a step forward.
The voice whispered, "Name your flame."
He considered Ember Vow's sorrow. Of the madness of Jester Wyrm. of Hollowfang's devotion. Of the sorrow of Despair Maw.
He considered himself—survivor, beast-binder, soldier, boy.
"Nyx is my flame," he declared. "I was born on the night that I couldn't die."
[New Core Created: Bonded Flame of Will, Nyxflame. Elevated Power Rank. Soul Stabilization: 89% to 94%
There was a pulse in the layer.
It was not ownership that Raen sensed.
harmony.
The Abyss had no desire for a master. It desired a friend.
Raen, too, was becoming one.
Silently, he went back to the others. Behind him, the shattered throne disappeared.
"You didn't accept it?" Ember inquired.
He declared, "I didn't need it."
Hopelessness Maw touched his side. Hollowfang's tail waggled. "Well, that's disappointing," sighed Jester Wyrm. I had hoped for a tiara.
They all chuckled.
Not because it was simple.
but because they remained together.
still restrained.
still developing.