The corridor smelled like cold iron. The air was thin, and the light from their torches looked small, like candles in a great dark mouth.
Riven kept cracking his knuckles, like noise could push back the quiet. "Right. Shadow room. I always wanted a tan." He tried to grin. It didn't reach his eyes.
Kael's throat still hurt when he spoke. He didn't joke. He watched the walls, the way they held shapes for a second and then let them slip. Seren walked between them, pencil tight in her hand, eyes always counting.
The system cut in, blunt as ever:
[Room Detected: The Shadow's Trial] Rule: Confront what your shadow hides. Fail: Shadow grows. Condition: Stand together.
They stepped into a wide space. The floor was black stone, the ceiling lost to darkness. Shadows pooled along the walls, thick as spilled ink. Tiny motes of dust moved like slow stars.
Riven swallowed, trying the same bravado he always used. "Lovely. It's like someone smeared a bad mood on the walls." He swung his sword with a showy flourish and it sang in the quiet. "Who wants the first swing? Me."
Seren scribbled fast and shoved the scrap at Kael: Watch him. He masks fear with jokes. She tapped her own throat: I remember.
Kael nodded once. He stepped forward slow, pressing his hand to the Key. The metal was cold and sure. It steadied him. They moved as a small unit: Riven in front, Seren close to Kael's side, Kael a step back ready to twist the Key if the floor demanded it.
The shadows shifted. Not random. They reached like hands, matching Riven's steps. The first time a tendril brushed his boot, he laughed too loud — a bark that hid a hitch in his chest.
TING.
A thin sound, like a thread snapping. The system warned:
[Shadow Contact] Minor Echo drain.
Riven hissed and slapped at his leg. Dark smoke crawled up, sticking to his skin like wet cloth. It smelled of old smoke and old fear. He pulled at it, trying to flake it off. The things clung harder.
Kael moved without thinking. He slammed the Key down on a seam and twisted. Stone shifted; the shadow thinned for a breath. A small patch of floor lit white.
[Tide used] Temporary clear. Cost: Echo -1 (group)
Riven sucked air like he'd been punched. "Thanks, low tide. Fancy name. Cheap magic." He tried to laugh, but it came out broken.
They pushed further. The room felt like walking through a memory that didn't want to let go. The shadows were patient. Every time Riven stepped, something from the darkness reached for a piece of him — a memory shaped like a small hand.
A voice, not the system, seeped from the black: "Who are you without the laugh?" it whispered, mocking.
Riven's face changed. For a second the bravado cracked and something small and raw showed — a boy on a sunless road, running and looking back. Kael's mouth tightened. Seren's pencil flew: He remembers the alley. Don't let it set.
Riven stabbed his sword at a shape. The blade passed through dust and came back with a smear of black. The shadow didn't die; it learned. A smear on his blade crawled up his arm like ivy.
BOOOONG.
The gong rolled through the stone, low and patient. It shook their bones. The shadow raised itself taller like it had been fed.
The system added lines in Kael's head:
[Shadow Growth] Warning: Shared Burden rising. Hint: Anchor to truth.
Kael thought fast. Anchor to truth. He shouted, voice rough, "Riven! Say it. Say your real name. Not the jokes. Not the mask."
Riven's mouth snapped open. For a beat he looked like he might refuse. Then he forced out a small name, sharp and hard: "Riven Marr." It wasn't an epic name. It wasn't cleaned. It was the one he'd been given, the one he kept when no one else was looking.
A pale light flickered through the black. The shadow at his feet hesitated.
Seren pressed close and scribbled: You are not the shadow. She shoved the scrap into his hand. Her eyes were fierce. Kael felt something warm in his chest at the sight — she was fighting for him in small, quiet ways.
Riven blinked, and for the first time in the trial his breath came steady. "Hmph," he muttered. "Nice to meet myself, I guess."
They moved on, but the room pushed back. The shadows remembered how he'd laughed at them and tried to make the laugh mean something else. A shape formed from the darkness — a twisted version of Riven, mouth too wide, eyes hollow. It walked with his swagger and his jokes but without the warmth.
Riven staggered. The thing spoke in his voice, harsher, pointing at Kael. "You're only here because he helps you. Alone, you're nothing." The words slithered like oil.
Kael felt anger rise quick and hot. He stepped forward, Key clenched. "Shut up." It sounded small, useless, but it was a choice. He twisted the Key more, feeling the pull as the stone answered.
The cracked floor gave under the false-Riven. Dust rose. The fake thing faltered, its words cutting off. The shadow recoiled into a puddle.
The system noted:
[Anchor successful] Shadow weakened. Reward: +1 Token each.
Riven sank to his knees, chest shaking. He laughed, but it sounded different — not the forced laugh, but a real one that had sorrow in it. "Heh. Thought I'd lost my punchline for a second." He wiped his face with his sleeve like he'd been crying.
Seren sat beside him and pressed her hand against his shoulder without words. Kael dropped the Key into his palm for a moment, then took it back. He thought of the ledger, of names carved deep. He thought of the boy in the alley that had tried to steal Riven's step.
A soft sound unfurled down the corridor.
BOOOONG.
Low and slow. The trial counted them, noted that the shadow had been met and a name had been spoken. The sound hung like a promise and a warning.
Riven pushed himself up, smirking weak. "Next time, I pick a sunny room." He tried to joke, voice shaking, and Kael let it stand. It was enough.
They walked on together — a little more hollow, a little steadier. The Labyrinth had tested them. The Ledger had written a line. They would carry it forward, with new small scars, and one more piece of truth to hold them.