Aaron muscles tensed, his head swimming with questions. The sight of the woman standing before him so familiar yet entirely new had left him stunned. Her smile was warm, her presence commanding. She looked like his mother but carried an air of mysticism that set her apart.
"I'm not your mother, Aaron," she said gently, her voice steady and melodic. "My name is Hydra. I'm her twin sister."
Aaron blinked, his heart racing. "What? That's impossible. She never told me she had a twin. Why would she keep this from me?"
Hydra's smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a shadow of regret. "To protect you," she explained, her tone laced with sorrow. "Your mother knew the dangers tied to my existence and to the Phoenix Ring you now bear. As the High Priestess, my life is deeply entwined with the celestial weaver. Anyone connected to me would be targeted by those who wish to disrupt the balance. You were safer not knowing, at least until the time was right."
Aaron stared at her, struggling to process her words. "The High Priestess? Celestial weaver? What does that even mean?"
Hydra gestured for him to sit back, taking a seat herself on the edge of the bed. Her movements were graceful, deliberate, as if every action carried purpose. "The celestial weaver is the force that binds the cosmos together, ensuring harmony among the stars, realms, and energies. As High Priestess, I am its steward, responsible for maintaining its balance. When the Phoenix Ring chose you, Aaron, it marked you as a key figure in this balance. That also made you a target for our enemies."
Aaron's jaw tightened. "But why me? I'm just… me. What's so special about me?"
Hydra's gaze softened. "The truth, Aaron, is that no one knows why the ring chooses its bearer. It has existed for millennia, passing from one individual to another, each as seemingly ordinary as the last. Two centuries ago, the last wearer was a brigand—a thief and an outlaw. And yet, even he rose to the occasion, making the right choices when they mattered most. The ring sees potential, not perfection."
Aaron frowned, his fingers absently tracing the ring's intricate designs. "So it's just... random? A gamble?"
"Not random," Hydra corrected. "Purposeful, though not always clear. The ring tests its bearer, shaping them into what they need to become. You've already completed your first missions, Aaron. You've proven yourself capable, even if you don't fully realize it yet."
Her words stirred a mixture of pride and unease in Aaron. Before he could ask more, a sharp knock echoed through the room. The door creaked open, and a robed figure stepped inside, their expression urgent.
"High Priestess," the figure said, bowing deeply. "The cosmic convergence is beginning. Your presence is required to ensure the opening of a safe celestial pathway."
Hydra stood immediately, her serene demeanor replaced with a focused intensity. She turned to Aaron. "Come with me. There is much to learn, and this event may offer you the answers you seek."
Aaron hesitated, glancing at the robed figure, then back at Hydra. "What's a cosmic convergence? And why do you need a celestial pathway?"
"A convergence," Hydra explained as she led him out of the room, "is when certain stars and cosmic forces align, creating a unique window of opportunity. This alignment can either bring great power or great peril, depending on how it's handled. The celestial pathway will channel the convergence's energy safely, preventing it from falling into the wrong hands."
Aaron followed her through winding stone corridors, the walls adorned with glowing runes that pulsed faintly with energy. "And what happens if we fail?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Hydra glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. "Failure is not an option, Aaron. The consequences would be catastrophic for this realm and beyond."
As they emerged into a vast chamber, Aaron's breath caught in his throat. Above them, the ceiling opened to the night sky, where stars shimmered and danced in intricate patterns. At the center of the room, a circular platform glowed with radiant energy, its surface inscribed with symbols he couldn't begin to decipher.
He stood by her side, her presence commanding the room. "Watch closely," she said, her voice firm. "You're about to witness the work of the celestial weaver—and perhaps, understand your role in all of this."
Aaron stood at the edge of the platform, his heart racing as the air around them seemed to come alive.
He watched Hydra step onto the glowing platform. The energy around her thickened, humming softly. She raised her hands, moving them slowly and carefully, like she was shaping invisible threads.
The symbols on the platform glowed brighter, and streams of light flowed upward. Above them, the stars seemed to shift, their patterns forming something deliberate. Aaron's breath caught as a glowing path appeared, stretching into the sky like a bridge made of light.
"It's done," Hydra said, lowering her hands. The platform dimmed, and the glowing path disappeared. Aaron stared, his chest tight with awe, while Hydra stepped down, looking calm, as if what she'd just done was nothing extraordinary.
"Follow me," she said simply. "We have more to discuss."
Aaron trailed after her, his head buzzing with questions. As they walked through stone hallways lit by faintly glowing symbols, he finally asked, "Where are we?"
Hydra glanced at him briefly. "We're in the lair of the Celestial Weaver. It's hidden in the mountains where the aurora constellations cross. These stars send beams of light that meet at a single point, creating a mirage. To anyone outside, it looks like an endless forest."
Aaron frowned, trying to make sense of it. "So… it's invisible? Like an illusion?"
"Exactly," Hydra said, her voice calm. "It's protected by the stars themselves."
They walked on, but Aaron wasn't listening anymore. A nagging thought had crept into his mind. He stopped suddenly, forcing Hydra to turn back to him.
His voice shook with frustration. "So, you've been watching me, haven't you? For years? You and your celestial powers. Why didn't you help me? When I was beaten in that alley? When people humiliated me, mistreated me? You could've stepped in, but you didn't. You just stood by and watched, didn't you?"
Hydra's expression shifted, her calm exterior cracking slightly. She opened her mouth to speak, but Aaron wasn't done.
"You let me suffer," he continued, anger rising. "For what? Some cosmic plan? Some greater good? Was my pain just part of your story?"
The words lingered, sharp and heavy. Aaron tightened his fists, a mix of frustration and defiance in his voice. "I'm finished with this. Keep your ring, your stars—I'm out."
He turned and started walking away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor. Just as he reached the end, Hydra's voice rang out, steady but filled with something new—grief.
"Aaron," she said. "I know who killed your mother."
Aaron froze, his breath catching. Slowly, he turned back, his face a mixture of shock and hope. Hydra stood still, watching him with sad, steady eyes.
"Come back," she said softly. "There's more you need to hear."