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Chapter 6 – Audience with the Forgotten
The silver mist of the floating islands began to clear, revealing a grand hall carved entirely from obsidian and crystal. The sky above swirled with violet and gold, and the air thrummed with power, resonating with the sigil on Kaelen's arm. Every step he took echoed like a drumbeat of destiny.
The cloaked stranger stopped at the entrance. "This is Astarion's throne room. Approach with caution. He is a god of memory and secrets, and he despises intrusion."
Kaelen swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. The hall stretched farther than his eyes could see, its walls lined with shifting images—faces, places, moments from countless lives. Shadows moved independently, whispering in languages he did not know.
At the far end, a figure emerged. Not tall, not massive—but unmistakably divine. Astarion's presence radiated quiet authority. His eyes were pools of reflective silver, showing fragments of the past and possibilities of the future. Every glance seemed to pierce Kaelen's mind, weighing him, testing him.
"You walk in boldly," Astarion said, voice calm but edged with power. "Few mortals dare cross the Threshold, fewer survive even my awareness. And yet… you carry the sigil."
Kaelen's hand twitched at his side. "I—my name is Kaelen. I… I mean no disrespect."
Astarion tilted his head, studying him. "You are different. Not merely mortal, nor merely a shadow of divinity. You are the child of the Convergence, are you not?"
Kaelen nodded, feeling the sigil burn brighter. Energy hummed through him, and he realized the god's words were not just observation—they were a probe, testing his reaction.
"Very well," Astarion continued. "You seek knowledge, survival, power. But every gift in my realm comes with a cost. Solve this, and I will grant you passage—and insight. Fail, and your essence will be bound here, a memory for my collection."
From the shadows, a puzzle manifested: floating glyphs, twisting in impossible geometries, shifting between forms and languages. Kaelen understood instantly—this was not a trial of strength, but of intellect, perception, and control of his nascent powers.
He inhaled, centering himself. The sigil pulsed, its energy harmonizing with his thoughts. One by one, he reached out with both mind and power, aligning the glyphs, feeling their hidden patterns. Light flared, shadows recoiled, and the hall trembled as he completed the sequence.
Astarion's silver eyes glimmered with approval. "Well done, Kaelen. Few have approached this challenge and emerged unscathed. You are… ready to walk deeper into the realms. But remember—others will test you far harsher than I have."
Kaelen exhaled, his body trembling with adrenaline and newfound confidence. The first god had acknowledged him—not as mortal, not as intruder, but as a player in the Convergence itself.
The cloaked stranger's voice echoed in his mind: "Remember this lesson. Power is nothing without wisdom. And wisdom is nothing without caution. The Convergence has only just begun."
Kaelen looked ahead at the swirling expanse of divine realms. Each step forward would bring greater trials, greater revelations—and the weight of destiny pressing heavier with every heartbeat.
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