As they walked toward the Sacred Room, a golden gate suddenly shimmered into existence out of nowhere, as if summoned by the very air itself. A small, yet incredibly powerful being appeared before them—barely ten inches tall, but radiating a commanding presence. He had six luminous eyes and long, flowing hair that glowed like threads of starlight.
"Oh great leaders of Thal'Nora," the being said in a voice that echoed like wind through crystal. "You are welcome."
His gaze fell upon Elior. He paused, then bowed deeply in reverence.
Inside the Sacred Room, the leaders of all the mystical creatures sat at a grand High Table. Their followers filled the space before them, seated in respectful silence. Elior was guided to sit in the very center of the room. As he did, a powerful force erupted from within him—rippling outward in a silent wave—and in an instant, everyone in the chamber was transported to a wide, open field under a violet sky.
Beside them stood a magnificent castle. Its roof was made of silver sheets that glistened like moonlight, and its golden interior shimmered with divine craftsmanship. As Elior stepped inside, he was overwhelmed by the splendor. At the far end of the grand hall sat an empty golden chair, glowing with quiet power.
"You must sit," said the leader of the Oculon.
Elior hesitated. A flicker of fear crossed his face.
Then Chippa's voice whispered beside him. "Master… this was the throne of Lioran."
The fear melted away. Something awakened in Elior—a sense of belonging. He stepped forward, slowly at first, then with purpose, and sat on the throne.
The moment he did, fire erupted around him. His form began to change—his body radiated golden light, his feet burned like flame, and when he opened his mouth, fire poured from his voice. His appearance had transformed. He now looked just like the legendary Lioran.
Chippa stared, stunned. "You… you look exactly like him."
Elior glanced down at his hands, confused and amazed. He remembered Chippa's description of Lioran—it matched perfectly.
Around him, the crowd gasped and rose to their feet, chanting his name and singing in ancient tongues. Light swirled above them. The throne had recognized its heir.
Suddenly, the golden walls began to glow.
"They're speaking…" Elior said, unsure if he was imagining it.
Chippa nodded. "Yes. These are the Living Walls of Thal'Nora. Their name is Auraclad. They are not made of stone but of Luminous Stone fused with Aetherglass—gold-veined crystal that carries divine energy."
Elior stood in silence as Chippa continued.
"The Auraclad Walls are alive. They listen to your thoughts, your emotions. They change color based on your spirit—scarlet for anger, indigo for sorrow, white for clarity. They speak in harmonic voices, and they guide only the true bearer of the Sacred Staff."
As Chippa spoke, the walls began to hum softly. Then, a thousand whispering voices rose together like wind, and the Auraclad spoke.
"He walks the path of flame and light.
The blood of Lioran. The bearer of the Staff.
Why do you seek the Sacred Flame, Elior?"
Startled but steady, Elior answered, "I seek to restore balance. To heal what's been broken by silence and greed. To become more than just my grandfather's shadow."
The walls pulsed gold, then turned silver-blue.
"You speak of healing… yet your soul carries fire.
Will you wield it to burn, or to cleanse?"
Elior hesitated only for a moment. "Both. The fire I carry will burn away lies, and cleanse what truth remains. I won't run from what I am."
One of the walls shimmered, and a vision appeared—a younger Lioran, standing in the same hall, saying the exact same words. Elior gasped.
"You do not remember him," the Auraclad said, "but his echo lives within you.
Now answer: what do you fear losing most?"
The room dimmed. The light flickered low.
Elior lowered his head and spoke quietly. "Myself."
A long pause. Then, the walls shone bright with white-gold light.
"Truth opens the first gate.
Step forward, Flamebearer.
The trial begins."
Before Elior, a radiant door of light unfolded. He took a deep breath and stepped through.
---
The Second Stage
The chamber beyond was vast and shaped like a hollowed star. The walls were smooth and quiet, glowing faintly. As Elior entered, the light behind him vanished, sealing the entrance.
In the center of the room, a warm glow ignited—and from it emerged a vision, flowing and real. Lioran stood before the younger council of Thal'Nora, scarred and weary, but proud.
"I do not seek the Staff to rule," the vision said. "I seek it to protect the ones no one sees… the forgotten, the lost."
Elior watched in silence.
"You really were… just like me," he whispered.
Suddenly, the vision changed. Lioran turned and looked directly at him.
The space melted away into a twisted version of Elior's childhood home. Shadows crept along the walls, whispering doubts.
"You carry my name," Lioran said, now fully present in the room, "but not my burden. Tell me, Elior—do you fight for the world, or to escape your own insignificance?"
"That's not fair," Elior said, tense. "I didn't ask for this legacy."
"But you carry it," Lioran replied. "And when the time comes to choose who burns and who is saved… will you be ready?"
The shadows swirled, whispering louder: "You're not enough." "He was better." "You're just a copy."
Elior dropped to his knees, hands on his head.
"I'm not him…" he muttered. Then louder, "But I'm not no one either."
He rose to his feet.
"I'll write my own story. Even if it begins in his shadow. Even if I fall—I'll rise again. As myself."
The shadows disappeared. Lioran nodded.
"Then you're ready… to face the mirror. And shatter it."
Light exploded in all directions. A spiral staircase of flame and crystal formed above him.
"The second gate opens," came the voice of Auraclad from far above. "The shadow has been named. Ascend, Elior. Ascend with truth."
Elior gripped his Sacred Staff and raised it.
"Return me," he whispered.
And in an instant, he was back in the Sacred Room—changed, awakened, and ready for what lay ahead.