Hope had a voice like wind through broken glass—soft, sad, but sharp enough to draw blood.
The masked figure stood still within the pale stone circle, grass unmoving around them despite the breeze. The air tensed in their presence, as if the Weeping Expanse itself was unsure what this being truly was.
"I was the first thing you let go," Hope said gently.
The boy didn't respond right away. He stared at the masked figure the way one stares at a childhood toy found shattered in the attic—familiar and alien, comforting and haunting.
Ael stepped between them. "What do you want?"
Hope turned their mask slightly, as if regarding him. "Not your question to ask, King. This is between him… and me."
The boy slowly walked forward until he stood at the edge of the stone circle. "I thought I erased you."
"You did," Hope answered. "But you can't kill what didn't grow. You buried me alive instead."
The boy's hands trembled.
"I was afraid of you," he whispered.
Hope nodded once. "Because I made you want things."
Vel leaned closer to Ael and muttered, "This is… surreal. It's like watching someone talk to a ghost of their heart."
"It is," Ael replied. "That's what the Expanse does. It doesn't test your strength. It tests your capacity to feel what you refused."
Nirra held her breath, scribing the moment in her mind rather than on parchment.
—
Inside the circle, the masked Hope knelt.
"You were just a boy, surrounded by cold," they said softly. "And I whispered to you: Maybe one day it won't be like this. But when you couldn't wait anymore, when the pain stayed—"
"I killed you," the boy said, voice trembling.
Hope shook their head.
"You hid me. You locked me behind the silence. And now that silence is gone… here I am."
The boy stared down at his hands. "I don't know if I deserve you back."
"That's not how hope works."
—
Suddenly, the ground shivered.
Shadows crawled along the horizon, curling like smoke in the skyless dusk. Something stirred in the distance—a ripple of force, faint but enormous, watching.
Nirra's eyes narrowed. "We're not alone."
"Someone's found us," Vel said. "Or found him."
Hope stood. "You don't have time. Decide now."
The boy stepped into the circle.
The pale stones lit up.
Ael took a step forward instinctively, but Nirra stopped him with a hand.
"No interference," she whispered. "This is part of the trial."
Inside the circle, Hope extended both hands.
"One leads to peace," they said, voice calm. "One leads to pain."
"Which one brings you back?" the boy asked.
"Both."
The wind howled suddenly—and the mask cracked.
Underneath, there was no face.
Just light.
Not blinding.
Warm.
Waiting.
The boy reached out.
Paused.
Tears welled in his eyes—but he let them.
Then, slowly, gently, he placed his hands over the cracked mask.
"I don't know how to hold you. But… I want to try."
And the mask shattered.
Light poured into his chest—not fire, not power, not magic.
Just feeling.
The circle vanished.
Hope was gone.
But not lost.
—
The boy turned to the others. His eyes shimmered—not glowing, but alive in a way they hadn't been since he first appeared.
"I feel full," he said softly.
Ael nodded. "Good. Hold onto it."
Vel looked past him toward the moving horizon. "Because you're about to be tested again."
Ael followed her gaze—and saw them.
Figures in mirrored armor, riding beasts of woven metal and bone. Faces hidden by featureless helms. Moving too fast for any normal patrol.
"The Mirror Blades," Nirra whispered. "Agents of the Jade Serpent Dynasty."
"They came quicker than expected," Ael muttered.
The boy looked to him. "They want me?"
"They want what you mean now," Ael said. "You've chosen hope. That makes you dangerous."
Vel cracked her knuckles. "Let them come."
But Nirra narrowed her eyes. "They're not here to fight. Not yet."
"How do you know?" Vel asked.
"They're here to talk."
—
And as the sun dipped low, the first of the Mirror Blades dismounted and removed their helm.
It was a woman with skin like riverstone and eyes like etched steel.
She bowed.
"Child of Silence," she said, voice calm and measured. "We come on behalf of the Serpent Queen—not to harm you. But to offer you sanctuary… and purpose."
The boy blinked. "Why?"
She smiled faintly.
"Because every god begins with a choice."