The void surrounding them pulsed, a rhythmic thrum of light and shadow that seemed to press against their very souls. Jaeden staggered under the weight of the Orichalcum Sword, the blade’s hunger clawing at his thoughts with unrelenting ferocity. It whispered to him, not in words but in feelings -desire, power, domination. Each pulse of its energy felt like a tether pulling him toward the twisted reflection before him.

His darker self grinned, sharp and predatory, the sword in its hand identical to Jaeden’s but exuding pure, unfiltered malice. The reflection’s eyes gleamed, mocking and taunting. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you?” it said, its voice a distorted echo of Jaeden’s own. “That itch in the back of your mind. The hunger. The blade’s thirst is your own.”

Jaeden tightened his grip on the sword, the veins along its surface pulsing in chaotic harmony with his heartbeat. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice low but steady. “It’s not me. I’m the one holding the sword, not the other way around.”

The reflection laughed, a cold, hollow sound that reverberated through the void. “Keep telling yourself that. But we both know the truth. Every swing, every kill, you feel it, don’t you? The thrill. The power.” It stepped closer, the edges of its form shimmering like heatwaves. “And when the time comes, you won’t just let it take over -you’ll welcome it.”

Jaeden’s knuckles whitened on the hilt of the sword. The reflection wasn’t entirely wrong, and that was what scared him most. Every battle left him a little more attuned to the blade’s power, a little more willing to tap into its darkness. He took a step forward, planting his feet firmly against the void’s unstable surface. “You talk too much,” he said, lifting the sword. “Let’s see if you fight any better.”

While Jaeden squared off with his reflection, Liandra faced her own torment. The shadowy figures of the Council of Shadows surrounded her, their forms twisting like smoke yet retaining the outlines of people she once knew intimately. Their voices overlapped, a cacophony of accusations and scorn.

“You betrayed us, Liandra.”

“You abandoned your duty.”

“You brought shame to your name.”

Each word struck like a blade, cutting deep into old wounds she had worked tirelessly to bury. Her shadow-threads wavered, flickering erratically as her hands trembled. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You were the ones who betrayed me.”

A figure stepped forward from the haze, its features coalescing into a face Liandra recognized instantly -Maelrik, her former mentor. His gaze was cold, his voice like ice. “You always make excuses, Liandra. Always pointing the blame at others. Maybe the truth is simpler. Maybe you were never strong enough to stand with us.”

Liandra flinched, her threads faltering completely. “I-” she began, but her voice caught in her throat as Maelrik’s visage blurred and shifted. In his place stood the image of a young man, Eliel, her former apprentice. His face was a mixture of youthful eagerness and quiet desperation, his wide eyes brimming with hope she had once fostered -and later shattered.

“Liandra,” Eliel said, his voice trembling, a whisper pulled from the edges of her memory. “Why didn’t you save me?”

The words pierced her like a dagger, and the weight of guilt pressed her to the void’s shifting floor. “I tried,” she murmured, her voice breaking as the scene around her twisted into a cruel replay of that final day.

The Council’s chambers had been dimly lit, their usual oppressive grandeur muted by the urgency of Eliel’s plea. He had appeared before her late at night, his face pale, his hands clutching a tattered scroll.

“Master Liandra,” he had said, his voice shaking. “I found something. It’s connected to the Ruined.”

Liandra had frowned, her instincts screaming caution even as curiosity tugged at her. “What did you find, Eliel? You know this could be dangerous.”

He nodded, his face set with a determination that only youth could muster. “It’s worth the risk. You’ve taught me to question, to seek the truth no matter the cost. This… this is bigger than any of us.”

Despite her reservations, she had promised to meet him the next morning, to examine the scroll and decide their next steps together. But when she arrived at his chambers, Eliel was gone.

In the present, the void twisted the memory further, turning it into a grotesque tableau. Eliel’s image stood before her, his once bright eyes hollowed out, his body hunched as if under an unbearable weight. Around him, the shadowy forms of the Council loomed, their voices a chorus of judgment.

“You abandoned him,” one figure hissed, its voice dripping with malice. “You let him face the Ruined alone.”

“No!” Liandra cried, her shadow-threads lashing out wildly. The strands disintegrated as they struck the specters, powerless against the phantoms of her guilt. “I didn’t abandon him! I searched for him!”

“You failed,” another voice intoned, colder and sharper than the first. “And now he’s lost forever.”

Eliel’s hollow gaze fixed on her, his voice rising in accusation. “You told me to be careful, but you didn’t protect me. You let them take me.”

Tears blurred her vision, her knees buckling under the weight of the Council’s voices and Eliel’s haunting accusations. The void seemed to close in, suffocating her, the shadows pressing against her skin like icy claws.

Then she heard it: Jaeden’s voice cutting through the din like a beacon.

“Liandra!” Jaeden’s voice cut through the void like a lightning strike. He stood a few paces away, his own trial forgotten as he turned toward her. His sword clashed against his twisted reflection, but his attention was fixed on her struggle. “Don’t listen to them! They’re not real -they’re shadows, illusions!”

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Liandra’s threads flickered but held no strength. Her trembling hands clutched at the air as if trying to grasp something solid. “It’s not just shadows,” she whispered, her voice raw. “It’s the truth.”

“Then fight it!” Jaeden shouted, his reflection lunging at him with a vicious slash. He sidestepped the blow, countering with a strike that shattered the dark figure’s blade. “Fight for him, for yourself! Don’t let them win!”

His words stirred something deep within her. She straightened, her breath ragged but her resolve flickering to life. Her threads snapped back into focus, weaving into intricate patterns around her. She turned to face Eliel’s hollow image, her voice steady despite the tremor in her chest.

“I failed you, Eliel,” she said, her words a mix of sorrow and defiance. “I failed to protect you. But I won’t let that failure define me.”

The image of Eliel paused, its form wavering as if unsure of its strength. The Council’s voices faltered, the shadows retreating slightly. Liandra stepped forward, her threads coiling around the specters, binding them in a web of shimmering violet light.

“I will find the truth,” she continued, her voice rising. “And I will honor your memory by finishing what you started.”

The specters writhed and screamed, their forms dissolving under the weight of her conviction. Eliel’s image lingered a moment longer, his eyes softening. “Thank you,” he whispered before fading into the void.

Jaeden’s fight raged on, his reflection matching him blow for blow. Each strike felt like swinging through water, the resistance sapping his strength. Sweat dripped down his brow, and his arms burned with the effort of holding the sword steady.

“You’re slowing down,” the reflection taunted, parrying another swing. “How long before the sword takes over? Before you become me?”

Jaeden gritted his teeth, anger bubbling beneath his exhaustion. “You’re not me,” he growled, lunging forward. His blade met resistance, the reflection catching the strike and twisting it aside.

“I’m more you than you realize,” it said, leaning in close. “Every doubt. Every fear. Every time you wondered if you could do this. I am your shadow, and I always will be.”

The words hit harder than any blow. Jaeden froze, his grip faltering. The reflection seized the moment, shoving him back. He stumbled, the void around him rippling as he struggled to stay upright.

Jaeden grimaced, his reflection's sneering face pressing every button his temper tried to keep under control. The corrupted mockery before him leaned in close, its eyes blazing with derision.

“But you don’t get to define me,” Jaeden growled, his voice low and tight with restrained fury. His grip on the Orichalcum Sword tightened, but instead of striking, he reached beneath his armor and pulled out the Star Pendant.

"I've had enough of this," Jaeden declared, his voice cutting through the oppressive air of the void. The intricate silver star flared to life in his hand, emitting a piercing burst of celestial light. The brilliance exploded outward, searing into the void with an intensity that felt like a star itself had descended into the abyss.

The light’s touch unraveled the shadowy illusions around them. The suffocating mist recoiled, hissing as it dissipated, revealing the true emptiness of the space. The mockery of Jaeden faltered, its grin fading into a grimace of pain as the light burned away the darkness clinging to its form.

The Star Pendant’s radiance illuminated more than the void -it revealed hidden glyphs along the chamber’s walls, previously obscured by the illusions. The symbols shimmered with latent power, their meanings elusive but potent. In the stark clarity of the light, Jaeden could finally breathe without the weight of the shadows pressing against him.

The corrupted reflection staggered back, its form flickering and breaking apart. "You think you can escape what you are?" it spat, its voice a guttural snarl. "The sword will consume you. Just as it consumed everyone before you."

Jaeden’s expression hardened, his hand steady as he gripped the pendant. “Maybe. But today isn’t that day.”

Liandra, nearby, gasped as the light reached her. The remainder of the void wavered and disintegrated under the pendant’s cleansing glow. She turned toward Jaeden, her eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and gratitude.

As the shadows dissipated, Liandra collapsed to her knees, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Jaeden knelt beside her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

“What was that?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Star Pendant,” Jaeden said shortly, lowering it as its glow faded to a softer, steady pulse. “It doesn’t like lies -or things that hide in the dark.”

The void trembled, the Oracle’s voice returning, calm yet resonant. “Light reveals, but it does not absolve. Your truths remain, bearer. The path ahead will demand more than borrowed brilliance.”

Jaeden frowned but didn’t lower his guard. The pendant’s presence steadied him, its warmth a counterbalance to the ever-present pull of the Orichalcum Sword. He glanced at Liandra, who was brushing away lingering shadow-threads as though shaking off cobwebs.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone softer than usual.

Liandra nodded, though her face was pale and her hands still trembled. “I will be,” she said, her voice firm despite the lingering pain. “Thank you.”

Jaeden offered a faint smile. “For what? Reminding you how awesome you are? That’s just part of the service.”

She let out a shaky laugh, the sound surprising both of them. “Don’t let it go to your head,” she said, standing with his help.

Jaeden glanced at the fading remnants of the void around them. “Who was he?” he asked gently.

Liandra hesitated, her gaze distant. “He was my apprentice. Young, bright, too brave for his own good.” Her voice grew quieter. “And I let him down.”

Jaeden studied her for a moment, then nodded. “You didn’t let him down, you know. You’re still fighting for him.”

She didn’t respond, but the look in her eyes spoke volumes.

The void began to stabilize, the mist clearing as Jaeden and Liandra stood side by side once more. Their trial may have ended, but the weight of what they had faced lingered like an echo.

The Oracle’s voice returned, calm and measured. “You have faced your truths and emerged whole. The balance holds… for now.”

Jaeden exhaled shakily, his grip on the sword loosening. “Balance, huh? Feels more like barely holding it together.”

The Oracle shifted, its gaze -or presence- fixing on him. “You are the balance, bearer. The Umbral Force. A weapon for change, be it creation or destruction. The blade is a reflection of your soul. Wield it wisely, or it will consume you.”

Jaeden wanted to argue, to deny the Oracle’s words, but he couldn’t. Deep down, he knew they were true. The sword wasn’t just a tool; it was a part of him now, and that scared him more than anything.

Liandra stepped forward, her shadow-threads coiling protectively around her. “And what about me?” she demanded, her voice sharp. “What am I to him? To this balance?”

The Oracle’s voice softened. “You are the Broken Thread, woven by fate into the tapestry of change. Your role is not yet clear, but your strength lies in your choices. Protect the bearer, or cut the thread. That is for you to decide.”

Liandra’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t flinch. “I’ve already made my choice.”

As the Oracle’s presence faded, the chamber began to crumble, the glyphs along the walls disintegrating into flecks of light. A new passage opened before them, glowing faintly with violet light. The hum of energy beckoned them forward.

Jaeden glanced at Liandra, his expression a mix of exhaustion and determination. “So, are we calling that a win?”

Liandra allowed a faint smile. “For now.” She nodded, but her usual composure seemed shaken. “That… light,” she began, her gaze flicking to the pendant. “It’s powerful. And strange. Be careful with it, Jaeden. It might reveal more than you want.”

Jaeden smirked, his humor a thin veil over his own unease. “Danger’s my vibe, remember?”

Liandra didn’t laugh, her expression pensive as her gaze lingered on the pendant.