[System notice: Trial of the Chosen initiated.]
[Warning: Abandonment will result in permanent core destabilization.]
Ashwing hissed. 'Figures. It won't let you walk away, will it?'
Lindarion exhaled slowly. "No."
His gaze hardened, silver-and-gold eyes reflecting the faint glow of the roots. "And I wouldn't if I could."
He placed his hand against the script again. The chamber shuddered. The wall of roots at the far end twisted open, revealing another passage.
Ashwing groaned. 'I knew it. Stupid trials. Stupid ancient voices. Stupid glowing eyes.'
Lindarion allowed the faintest curl of a smile to touch his lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Stay close. You'll complain less if you're alive."
Ashwing puffed his cheeks, sulking. 'That's not funny.'
But he held tighter to Lindarion's shoulder as they stepped into the next descent, the motes leading them deeper into the Tree's secrets.
The glow behind them faded, sealing the chamber.
There was no going back.
