The evaluation hall was older than Astren expected.
It wasn't grand in the way the floating platforms were. There were no glowing bridges or dramatic spires. Instead, the hall felt ancient—carved directly into black stone, its walls scarred with symbols that time had failed to erase. The ceiling arched high above, disappearing into shadow, while the floor was marked with twelve enormous circular sigils arranged in a wide ring.
Each sigil was different.
Some pulsed with light.
Some were dormant.
One… looked wrong.
Astren stood at the edge of the hall with the other candidates, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. The air felt heavy, pressing down on his chest. Even breathing felt deliberate here.
"This is where it begins," someone whispered nearby.
Overseer Kaelith stood at the center of the ring, masked face turned toward them. Around him were several instructors, each wearing different insignias—symbols Astren didn't recognize but felt drawn to all the same.
"Today," Kaelith said, his voice echoing without effort, "you will learn why you are here."
The murmurs died instantly.
"There are Twelve Paths," Kaelith continued. "Each one represents a way the stars may answer you. Strength. Mind. Flesh. Spirit. Order. Ruin. And others older than your histories."
With a slow gesture, he raised one hand.
The sigils on the floor reacted.
Light surged through them, each circle glowing with a different color and texture. Flames rose above one. Crystalline shards hovered over another. A third distorted the air around it, bending light unnaturally.
Astren felt his heart pound.
"This is not a test of power," Kaelith said. "It is a test of resonance."
The word lingered.
"Power can be trained. Resonance cannot."
Astren swallowed.
Kaelith's masked gaze swept the group.
"Each of you will step forward. The Paths will respond—or they will not. Rejection is not failure. For some, it is mercy."
That didn't sound comforting.
One by one, candidates were called.
The confident ones went first.
A boy stepped onto a glowing red sigil. Flames erupted around him, responding instantly. Cheers followed. The instructors nodded.
Another candidate approached a sigil of shifting light. The air vibrated. She smiled, eyes bright with excitement.
Astren watched silently.
Each success only made his stomach twist tighter.
Then came the failures.
A boy stepped onto a sigil—and nothing happened. The light faded. The silence was deafening. An instructor escorted him away without a word.
Astren noticed something unsettling.
Some candidates who failed looked relieved.
His name was called sooner than he expected.
"Astren Veyra."
The hall felt colder.
Whispers followed him as he stepped forward. He could feel their eyes on his back, weighing him, judging him.
I don't belong here, a familiar thought whispered.
Astren stepped into the ring.
The twelve sigils pulsed faintly, as if aware of him.
"Stand still," Kaelith ordered.
Astren obeyed.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
The air shifted.
Not violently. Subtly.
Astren felt it in his chest, like a quiet pull in twelve different directions at once. The sigils reacted—not brightly, not clearly—but hesitantly. Light flickered across several of them, unstable and uncertain.
Murmurs spread.
"That's not normal."
"He's triggering more than one."
"But none fully…"
Astren's head began to ache.
The Star Echoes stirred.
He felt them ripple outward from him, brushing against the sigils, touching memories embedded deep within the stone. Images flashed at the edge of his vision—countless footsteps, countless choices, countless failures.
Then—
One sigil darkened.
Completely.
The light around it collapsed inward, leaving a hollow void where energy should have been. The temperature dropped sharply.
The hall went silent.
Even Kaelith stiffened.
Astren gasped, clutching his chest as the pressure intensified. The void-like sigil seemed to pull at him—not violently, but insistently. Like a question being asked without words.
"What is that?" someone whispered.
Kaelith raised his hand sharply. "Enough."
The pressure vanished.
Astren collapsed to one knee, breathing hard.
The sigils dimmed.
The void remained.
Kaelith stepped forward slowly, studying Astren in silence. When he spoke again, his voice was lower.
"Astren Veyra," he said, "you will not be assigned a Path today."
A wave of murmurs followed.
Astren looked up, confused. "Then… what happens to me?"
Kaelith's silver-lit eyes bore into him through the mask.
"That," he said, "depends on what you awaken."
Astren was escorted from the evaluation hall in silence.
No congratulations.
No rejection.
No explanation.
Just questions that burned in his chest.
He was led through deeper corridors than before, away from the main living quarters. The walls here were rougher, less refined, etched with older symbols that pulsed faintly when he passed.
The Star Echoes were overwhelming.
They clung to the air, thick and layered, like the residue of countless lives pressed into the stone. Astren felt dizzy, his senses stretched thin.
"This way," an instructor said quietly.
They stopped before a sealed door.
Unlike the others, this one had no markings.
No insignia.
No Path symbol.
The door opened.
Inside was a circular chamber, dimly lit by a single ring of light embedded in the ceiling. The walls were bare, but the floor… the floor was layered with faint, overlapping sigils—erased, rewritten, broken.
Kaelith stepped inside with him.
"This chamber exists outside the Twelve Paths," Kaelith said. "Few are brought here."
Astren swallowed. "Why me?"
Kaelith did not answer immediately.
Instead, he removed one glove and placed his bare hand against the wall.
The room reacted.
The Star Echoes surged violently.
Astren staggered as images flooded his vision—countless figures standing where he stood now. Some confident. Some terrified. Some broken. Many… forgotten.
"They were like you," Kaelith said quietly. "Unaligned. Unstable. Rejected by the Paths."
Astren's chest tightened. "What happened to them?"
Kaelith turned.
"Most failed."
The word hit harder than any insult.
"But a few," Kaelith continued, "became something else."
Astren felt the Echoes gather around him, responding to his presence, his fear, his questions.
"You resonate with what the world leaves behind," Kaelith said. "Memories without owners. Power without a name."
Astren looked down at his hands. They trembled.
"That void you touched," Kaelith said, "is not a Path. It is the absence of one."
Silence filled the chamber.
"You call it forbidden," Astren whispered. "Don't you?"
Kaelith did not deny it.
"You will not train with the others," Kaelith said. "Not yet. You will observe. Learn. Survive."
"And if I fail?" Astren asked.
Kaelith's mask tilted slightly.
"Then you will join the Echoes you hear."
Astren closed his eyes briefly.
Fear was there.
But beneath it… something else stirred.
Curiosity.
Resolve.
When Astren opened his eyes, the Star Echoes responded—soft, almost approving.
Kaelith watched him closely.
"Remember this
," the Overseer said. "The stars did not choose you."
Astren waited.
"The forgotten did."