The day I finally created a perfect, animate golem from the silver sand was a turning point. It stood before me, a silent testament to weeks—or perhaps months—of tireless effort. It was a creature born not of command, but of consensus. A harmony of will and substance. But my triumph was short-lived, overshadowed by the cold dread of Kael's discovery. My home, the Expanse, was not just a random casualty; it was a target.
That knowledge changed the atmosphere in the Library. Our sanctuary now felt like a gilded cage, and our training took on a new, sharper urgency.
"Power is not enough," Kael said one 'morning' as we left the Resonance Chamber. We stood in one of the Library's vast, silent transit halls, the air still and cool. "Your control is remarkable, Iris, but we are fighting a war of strategy. We need information. Maps. Knowledge of the Magi's patrol routes, their supply lines, the locations of their garrisons. We've been training in the gymnasium; it's time to explore the archives."
He led me away from the familiar paths, guided by a new request he had put to the Library's consciousness. We walked for what felt like a mile, venturing into a section whose architecture was different. The shelves were less frequent, the spaces more open and vast, as if designed for contemplation rather than storage.
We arrived at a cavernous, circular hall. There were no shelves, no artifacts, only empty space. The hall was bisected by a chasm of indeterminate depth, a slice of pure, silent darkness that cut the room in two. Spanning the chasm was a single, impossibly thin ribbon of white light, no wider than my hand. It shimmered faintly, looking less like a bridge and more like a flaw in the darkness.
"Ah," Kael breathed, his voice a mixture of scholarly appreciation and weary resignation. "A conceptual barrier. This is a Bridge of Conviction."
"A what?" I asked, staring at the fragile-looking strand of light.
"It is a test of purpose," he explained, his eyes fixed on the bridge. "Its substance is not physical, but metaphysical. It will only support one who walks it with absolute, unwavering certainty in their goal. Any doubt, any hesitation, and it will offer no more support than a sunbeam."
He straightened his shoulders, his expression hardening with resolve. "My life has been dedicated to this one purpose: to see the Magi fall. If any conviction can bear this crossing, it must be mine."
He stepped forward, placing his foot carefully onto the ribbon of light. It held. He took another step, his gaze fixed on the other side of the chasm. But with his third step, the light beneath his boot flickered violently. He wavered, his arms pinwheeling for balance. A pained look crossed his face—a flash of every failure, every lost friend, every decade spent in hiding. The weight of his long, difficult life was a form of doubt in itself. The bridge sagged, and he scrambled back to the safety of the stone floor, breathing heavily.
"My past is too heavy," he admitted, his voice laced with frustration. "The path is littered with too many ghosts."
He looked at me. It was my turn. My heart sank. What was my conviction? His was a grand, noble crusade. Mine felt small and selfish. I want to go home. How could such a simple, personal desire compare to his lifelong quest? How could that be enough to hold me up?
I approached the edge, my mind racing. I was thinking of it as Kael had, as a scale to be weighed. My small purpose against his grand one. But that was the logic of Dominion, of comparison and measurement. That wasn't what I had learned in the sand.
The lesson of the bridge to the crystal came back to me. It is not the destination. It is part of the instrument you are trying to play.
I wasn't meant to overpower the bridge with the grandeur of my conviction. I was meant to harmonize with its nature. The bridge didn't care if my goal was noble or selfish, world-changing or personal. It only cared if it was true.
I closed my eyes and let go of the grand stakes of the war, of the Magi, of Kael's quest. I focused on the one, single, undeniable truth at the core of my being. I thought of the heat of two suns on my skin. I felt the fine, golden sand between my toes. I heard the deep, powerful chorus of the Expanse's Sandsong filling my soul. It was not a hope or a wish. It was a fact. It was me.
My conviction was not, I want to go home. It was, I am of the Expanse, and I will stand there again.
Opening my eyes, I stepped onto the bridge. The white light flared, but it did not flicker. It solidified, transforming into a warm, golden glow that mirrored the light of my home. It felt as solid as sandstone under my feet. I walked, my gaze steady, my heart filled not with the fear of falling, but with the absolute certainty of the ground beneath me. Each step was effortless.
When I reached the other side, I turned back. The bridge now held its solid, golden form. "It's safe," I called out.
Kael stared for a moment, a look of profound understanding on his face. He nodded slowly and walked across the now-stable path to join me.
The archway on this side of the chasm opened into a new hall. But this one was not empty. It was a cartographer's dream. Glowing, three-dimensional maps of continents floated in the air. Detailed charts of ocean currents and wind patterns were etched into crystalline walls. And there, on a central dais, was a massive, slowly rotating sphere of the world, dotted with points of light indicating Magi strongholds, patrol routes, and—most importantly—areas of faint, wild magic resonance.
We had crossed the bridge. We had reached the archives. And now, the war could truly begin.