The door opened onto a bridge that stretched impossibly far into darkness. Stone and mortar, ancient beyond measure, with gaps between the planks that revealed nothing but black void below. The air here felt different—thinner, charged with something that made the hair on their arms stand up.
The woman waiting for them at the bridge's entrance was hollow in the most literal sense. Camille stood motionless, her skin translucent as parchment, stretched so thin over her frame that light seemed to pass through rather than reflect off it. Her wedding dress, once white, had faded to the color of old bone, flowing around her in tatters that moved without any wind. But it was what lay beneath that translucent skin that made Erel's stomach turn—shadows flickered and writhed inside her empty shell, pressing against the papery barriers like trapped animals, occasionally taking shapes that might have been reaching hands or screaming faces before dissolving back into formless darkness.
Her eyes were the worst part. Completely hollow sockets that somehow still managed to convey expression, as if the shadows within were looking out through empty windows.
"The Bridge of Whispers," she said, her voice carrying the sound of wind through empty spaces, each word accompanied by the subtle crinkling of her paper-thin skin. "Your shadows await you below. They've been so patient, so eager to finally speak."
Erel looked down through the gaps in the planking and saw movement in the darkness—shapes that writhed and reached upward with fingers made of pure shadow.
"What's the trial?" he asked, though part of him already knew he wouldn't like the answer.
"Cross the bridge," Camille smiled, and it was like watching tissue paper stretch to its breaking point. The shadows inside her pressed closer to the surface, distorting her hollow features. "Your shadows will rise to greet you, to whisper all the truths you've tried so hard to forget. Each step forward invites them closer. Each word they speak takes a piece of your mind."
Grey was already shaking, her hands clenched into fists so tight her knuckles had gone white. Dark circles under her eyes spoke of sleepless nights and accumulated trauma. "And?"
"The last to reach the other side feeds the shadows completely." Camille's hollow eyes gleamed with an inner darkness. "They've been so very hungry."
Adren stepped forward without hesitation. "Then we should begin."
The moment Adren's foot touched the bridge, shadows began crawling up from the abyss. They moved like liquid smoke, reaching toward him with grasping tendrils. But instead of letting them whisper their poison, Adren's eyes suddenly blazed with an inner fire—not human fire, but something ancient and predatory.
"Fenrir," he said quietly, and the shadows around him recoiled.
The essence of the great wolf filled him, and he began moving across the bridge with inhuman speed and purpose. The whispers that reached for him found something that snapped back, something that had faced down gods and apocalypse. The shadows tried to latch onto his mind, but met only the focused hunger of a predator that feared nothing.
Adren disappeared into the darkness ahead, leaving only the sound of confident footsteps echoing back.
Smart. His mythic connection allows physical enhancement as well. Then there is also what he pulled off at the drowned trial.
Well this damn serpent is never much help.
That left him and Grey to face this trial the hard way.
The moment Erel stepped onto the bridge, shadows swarmed toward him like hungry children. Their voices hit him immediately:
You left them to burn in the paradox.
They died to save you!
They called your name as the reality collapsed around them.
The rational part of Erel's mind tried to push back, yet he felt the thought gnawing at the back of his head.
Beside him, Grey took her first step and immediately staggered. Her face went pale, eyes widening with horror as shadows that were darker, hungrier, rose to meet her.
You ate them. You consumed their final moments.
The taste of their terror is still in your mouth.
Stone died because you weren't strong enough to save him.
"No," Grey whispered, but her voice was already shaking, her shoulders hunched inward as if trying to protect herself from invisible blows. "We didn't have a choice."
There's always a choice. You chose to live while they chose to die.
Each step forward brought more whispers, more shadows. Erel felt pieces of his rationality slipping away like water through his fingers. The world began to take on a dreamlike quality where the whispers felt more real than his own thoughts.
You distance yourself from everyone because you're afraid of losing them too.
Every connection you make is just another potential loss.
You keep people away because you know you'll fail them like you failed your parents.
All true. Every word of it. I am quite introspective you know.
But Grey was having it worse. Much worse.
Her breathing had become ragged, tears streaming down her cheeks in thick tracks that caught the dim light. Her face was scrunched with pain, features twisted as if she were being physically tortured.
Your partner bled out in that alley while you froze.
You could hear the children crying in the house you couldn't save.
Every case you failed, every person who died while you hesitated.
She was moving slower now, each step a monumental effort. Her legs shook with every movement, and Erel could see the accumulated trauma from everything they'd endured, the banquet, Stone's death, the dancing with corpses, had left her mind raw and vulnerable. The shadows found every crack, every weakness.
"I can't," she gasped, falling to her knees on the bridge. Her hands pressed against her temples; fingers tangled in her hair. "I can't do this. They're right. About all of it."
Erel stopped. Behind them, more shadows were rising. Ahead, Adren had probably already reached the other side. The smart thing to do was keep walking. Leave Grey to the shadows and survive.
That's what someone who wants to live would do. That's what you want to do.
The whispers around him grew more insistent:
Save yourself. You've always saved yourself.
She's already broken. You can't fix her.
You want to live more than you want to save her.
And the terrible truth was, they were right. Part of him, the part that had learned to survive by keeping everyone at arm's length, wanted to keep walking. Wanted to live, even if it meant watching Grey die.
I am selfish. I do put myself first. I keep people away so I don't have to feel anything when they leave.
But his feet wouldn't move forward.
"Grey," he said, turning back to her. "Look at me."
She raised her head, and he could see the shadows had already begun to take hold. Her eyes were losing focus, pupils dilated with terror, her grip on reality slipping like sand through fingers.
"I can't," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
"They're showing me everything. Everyone I failed. Everyone who died because I wasn't good enough."
Save yourself, the rational part of his mind screamed. She's already lost.
But instead of walking away, Erel knelt beside her.
"You're right," he said simply. "We did fail people. We made choices that got people killed. We ate those poor bastards in the banquet hall and we'll carry that forever."
The shadows hissed around them, frustrated that he wasn't denying their accusations.
"But you know what else?" Erel continued, his voice steady despite the whispers clawing at his mind. "We tried. Every damn time, we tried. And sometimes trying isn't enough, but it's still trying."
Grey looked at him, and for a moment her eyes cleared slightly, the tears slowing. "You should go. Save yourself."
Yes. Do it. Live.
"I want to," Erel admitted, the words tasting like ash. "God help me, I want to. I've spent my whole life keeping people at a distance because I know I'll lose them eventually."
The shadows whispered their approval:
Finally, honesty.
Leave her and live.
You've always put yourself first.
But Grey was studying his face, her expression changing even as tears continued to streak down her cheeks.
"You're wrong," she said quietly, her voice growing stronger. "About yourself."
"What?"
"You think you keep people away to protect yourself, but that's not why." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, leaving a smear across her face. "I could see it from the first day, how you carry everything. How you try to make the unbearable bearable for the rest of us."
Don't listen to her. She's already lost to the shadows.
But Grey continued, her words cutting through the whispers with startling clarity. "You don't distance yourself because you don't care. You do it because you care too much. Because losing people hurts so badly that you'd rather be alone than risk it again."
Erel felt something crack inside his chest, not breaking, but opening.
"You carry everyone's pain," Grey said, reaching out to touch his hand with fingers that were ice-cold but steady. "Your parents, the people in the banquet, Stone. You carry all of it so the rest of us don't have to carry it alone."
The shadows around them grew more agitated, their whispers becoming frantic:
She's lying. She's trying to manipulate you.
You know what you really are.
But Grey's next words cut through everything else:
"I got on that plane knowing I might not come back. But meeting you, seeing someone who cares so much that he has to keep the world at arm's length to survive it, made the whole thing worth it."
Fresh tears were streaming down her face now, but her voice was steady, her eyes clear and focused. "You want to know how I know you're human? Because I can see the grief you carry. It's shaped you into this person who keeps everyone safe by keeping them away."
"Go," Grey said softly, a sad smile breaking across her tear-streaked face. "Live. Carry my story forward with all the others. That's what you do—you remember people. You take their pain and make it into something you can bear."
Don't listen. Save her. You can still save her.
But looking at Grey's face—peaceful now, resolved—Erel understood something the shadows couldn't. Sometimes the most loving thing you could do was let someone make their own choice about how to die.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"I'm sure." She smiled, and it was the first genuinely peaceful expression he'd seen from her since the trials began. "I never doubted you were human. Not for a second."
Erel stood slowly, his legs feeling like lead. Every instinct screamed at him to stay, to find another way. But Grey was right—sometimes love meant accepting what you couldn't change.
"Thank you," he said simply.
"Thank you for letting me matter."
"I really wish I had met you outside", she mumbled, her voice was now barely a whisper.
Erel began walking toward the far end of the bridge. Each step felt like betrayal, but also like acceptance. The shadows whispered their accusations, but underneath their noise, he heard something else:
You carry them all. The living and the dead. That's your burden and your gift.
Your parents' love. Stone's determination. Grey's courage.
You keep people away because you understand that connection means loss, but you connect anyway.
You suffer because you love.
That's what makes you human.
Behind him, he heard Grey's voice one last time, weak but clear: "Tell them I went out on my own terms, you bastard."
Despite everything, Erel almost smiled. Almost.
When he reached the other end of the bridge, he found Adren waiting for him. Calm, composed, showing no signs of the psychological battle they'd just endured.
Camille materialised beside them, her hollow shell now completely transparent except for the shadows moving within, more agitated now, pressing against her skin with renewed hunger.
"Two remain," she said with satisfaction, the shadows inside her writhing with what might have been pleasure. "Perfect. Lady Evangeline will be so pleased."
"Evangeline?" Erel asked, though he was still thinking about Grey's final smile.
"The Paradox Bride," Camille explained, her papery skin crackling as she spoke. "She who exists in all states simultaneously—living and dead, married and maiden, real and imagined. She has been waiting for you."
The final trial. Just me and Adren.
As they walked away from the Bridge of Whispers, Erel carried with him the weight of every person who had died. His parents' final moments, Stone's determination, Grey's final gift of understanding.
I'll remember them all. I'll carry their stories forward.
That's what humans do. We carry each other.
The shadows had been wrong about one thing—he wasn't selfish. He was heartbroken. And heartbreak, he was beginning to understand, was just love with nowhere left to go.
Time to finish this.