Chapter Five — Trial of the Self
Silver fire hissed around me, whispering like a thousand distant voices. The air was heavy, burning yet cold, and every step I took felt like walking across the edge of a blade. The black stone beneath my boots floated over an endless abyss.
My double — the figure shaped like me but older, stronger, its eyes molten silver — circled with a predator's patience. "You think power makes you more than prey?" it said, voice echoing like steel scraping on stone. "You're still that boy everyone left behind."
I clenched my fists. The silver glow of the Ashborn Heart pulsed under my skin, eager to strike. But a tremor ran through me. I wasn't sure if I controlled it, or if it controlled me.
"Get out of my head," I snapped.
It laughed — my laugh, but hollow. "This isn't in your head. This is what you are. The Heart chose you, but it can unmake you just as easily."
The flames surged higher. Blades of light formed around my double's arms. It lunged, and the first strike came like thunder. I blocked with instinct, a burst of silver energy exploding from my palms. The force hurled us apart, black stone shattering beneath us.
I skidded back, gasping. My hands trembled, the silver glow pulsing erratically. I'd felt this before — that wild, terrifying surge when the Heart first awoke. It had nearly killed me then. It could kill me now.
"You're fighting yourself," the double hissed. "And losing."
It struck again, a scything arc of light. I dodged, but too late — the blade grazed my arm, slicing deep. Silver light spilled from the wound instead of blood. Pain lanced through me, bright and cold.
I dropped to one knee. "I never wanted this power," I whispered. "I never asked for it."
The double tilted its head, smiling with my face. "Then give it back. Die here. Let the Heart choose someone stronger."
Memories flared in my mind: Alan turning his back on me; the vampire's claws; Mara's warning voice; my own screams when the magic hit me. A lifetime of rejection and loss, compressed into a heartbeat.
I pressed my palm to the wound. "No," I whispered. "Not like this."
The double stalked closer. "Then stand."
I pushed myself upright, breath ragged. "I'm not ready to be what the Heart wants," I said. "But I'm done running from what I am."
The silver glow steadied inside me, no longer wild but warm. It felt like a heartbeat, not a bomb.
The double paused. "Interesting."
I raised my hands. "I won't destroy you. You're a part of me. But I won't let you destroy me either."
The flames flickered, dimming slightly.
The double snarled, launching itself forward one last time. This time I didn't fight it with force. I reached out, catching its wrist in my hand. The energy between us surged, but instead of tearing me apart, it folded inward — a mirror closing.
"I accept you," I said through clenched teeth. "All of you. The weak. The scared. The angry. The strong."
Light exploded.
When it faded, the double was gone. Only a faint silver outline remained, which flowed into me like mist. The trial's arena trembled.
My wounds vanished. The silver glow in my veins settled into a steady pulse. The whispering voices receded, leaving silence.
A stone archway formed ahead, carved with runes of light. Beyond it, the path descended deeper into the Heart's domain.
I took a shaky breath. "That was only the first test," I murmured.
From somewhere unseen, Mara's voice drifted faintly — a memory, or a message. "Each trial remakes you. Don't lose yourself."
I squared my shoulders and stepped toward the archway. The black stone beneath my boots reformed, creating a stairway descending into a dim silver glow.
For the first time since this all began, the power inside me didn't feel like a curse. It felt like a question — and maybe, just maybe, an answer.
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