Chapter 28
The cloaked figure stood motionless before the monolith, radiating presence. Though it hadn't raised a weapon or moved toward them, the weight in the chamber tripled—as though the air itself grew sentient and heavy, trying to press them to their knees.
Ryann instinctively summoned her warding light, casting a faint glow around the trio. Sylas stepped to the side, hand on his curved blade, eyes darting for weak points.
But Draziel raised a hand. "No. This one's for me."
The figure's voice was neither male nor female, but layered—like hundreds whispering in unison.
*"You claim the mark, yet do not understand the burden. The Void remembers… It never forgets."*
Draziel stepped forward, his voice calm. "I never asked for it. But I'm not running from it either."
*"Then you'll face what came before."*
The shadows burst outward from the monolith like tendrils, wrapping the chamber in a dome of flickering illusions. The stars in the ceiling blinked out, one by one. Draziel's world spun—
—And suddenly, he stood *alone*.
The chamber was gone.
So were Ryann and Sylas.
Before him stood *five figures*, cloaked in black flame, eyes like smoldering embers. Ghosts of forgotten wielders of the Void Domain. Each one powerful. Each one *broken*.
They circled him like predators.
One stepped forward, voice crackling. *"We burned cities for power."*
Another hissed. *"We drowned kingdoms in silence."*
*"We embraced the nothing."*
*"Do you dare walk the same path?"*
*"Do you dare remain *yourself*?"*
A pulse of pain shot through Draziel's head. Visions of destruction—not his own, but ones the Void had witnessed—flooded his mind. Cities crumbling. Oceans parting. Stars going dim.
But he clenched his fists.
"I don't want to destroy," he said, through gritted teeth. "I want to *end the cycle*. What was done before me—was failure."
The shadows surged—testing his will.
But his flame didn't flicker.
Void energy crackled in his veins. Not chaotic this time—but *shaped*. Controlled. For the first time, it bent to him, not the other way around.
He stepped forward. "I am not like you."
The five ghostly wielders burst into smoke, howling, as the illusions shattered.
The chamber returned. The monolith quieted. The sigil on the ground burned brighter—its center now bearing *Draziel's mark*.
The cloaked figure nodded once, then faded into stardust.
The trial was complete.
Void had accepted its bearer.
But a whisper lingered in Draziel's mind:
*"It is yours now… But it is never truly tamed."*
—
The chamber walls had quieted. No more pulses of power. No more whispers from the Void. Just stillness, and the weight of what had transpired.
Draziel stood at the heart of it, the sigil still glowing beneath his feet. But the glow didn't comfort—it *warned*.
Ryann and Sylas stood a few paces back, weapons lowered, eyes locked on him—but not the way they had before. Not with trust. With *caution*.
Draziel turned to them slowly, his eyes dimming from that faint, otherworldly glow. "It's done."
Ryann's expression was unreadable, her arms crossed. "Is it?"
Sylas, unusually quiet, looked from Ryann to Draziel. "Whatever that was… you weren't yourself."
Draziel opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. He *had* changed. The Void didn't just give—it *unmade*. The memory of those five fallen wielders lingered like ashes in his mind. And the way the power responded to his will—it had been... obedient, yes, but with a sentience behind it. Like a wolf allowing itself to be leashed. For now.
"I'm still me," he said quietly. "I think."
Ryann stepped forward, her voice softer now. "That's the part that scares me."
A heavy silence settled.
Sylas scratched the back of his neck. "We've all got things inside us. Darkness, doubt. But this? Draziel, this is *primordial*. If it starts to take over—"
"I'll fight it." Draziel's voice cut through, sharper than intended. "I *won't* become what they were."
Ryann's gaze softened. "Then let us in. Don't carry this alone."
Draziel hesitated, then nodded.
But something between them had shifted.
The group moved forward—together—but there was now a tension, unspoken but undeniable. A quiet questioning in every glance, every pause in conversation.
Draziel could feel it: the Void wasn't just testing *him*.
It was testing *them all*.
—
*That night*, after their camp had gone quiet and the fire had burned low, *Ryann* found Draziel sitting alone on a ridge overlooking the distant glow of the horizon. His back was straight, posture tense, as if he were holding something back—power, thought, or fear, she couldn't tell.
She approached silently, but he spoke before she could sit.
*"You're worried I'm becoming something else."*
Ryann sat beside him, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't."
The wind tugged softly at their cloaks. Draziel didn't look at her—his gaze was still fixed on the horizon.
*"It doesn't feel like power,"* he muttered. *"It feels like weight. Like every time I use it, something in me fractures a little more."*
Ryann studied him. "Then stop using it."
He shook his head. "You saw what we faced back there. Without it, we wouldn't have made it through. This path… it's not one I get to walk with ease."
A pause. Then Ryann said softly, "I'm not asking you to walk it easily. I'm asking you not to walk it alone."
He finally turned to her. "And if I lose myself?"
Ryann held his gaze. "Then we'll find you. Every time."
For a long moment, Draziel said nothing. Then, slowly, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a shard of the sigil—dull now, inert.
*"It chose me,"* he said. *"But I'm beginning to wonder if it did so out of hope… or desperation."*
Ryann placed her hand over his. *"Doesn't matter. You're not that person they feared. And I'll keep reminding you until you remember that."*
The silence that followed wasn't tense. It was peaceful. Healing.
But just out of sight, *Sylas* stood watching from the shadows—his own thoughts unreadable.