The Spire loomed ahead, shrouded in veils of mist that seemed to ripple and twist unnaturally. It wasn’t just a structure; it was a presence, its surface alive with flickering light and shadows that danced across its jagged, crystalline form. It towered high above the treetops, a beacon and a warning, pulsing faintly like a living heart.

James felt an ache in his chest as they approached, a sensation he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t fear, though fear was certainly there—it was something deeper, a pull toward the Spire that both terrified and compelled him.

“Stay close,” Rook ordered, his voice sharp as a blade. “The Spire doesn’t follow the same rules as the rest of the Mire. It bends space, time... and minds.”

Leena muttered something under her breath, gripping the hilt of her dagger tightly. Vance, usually brash and smug, was uncharacteristically silent, his jaw tight as he scanned their surroundings. Even Derrin, who had seemed unflappable, looked pale as he clutched his strange device to his chest.

James tried to focus on their footsteps, the crunch of dead leaves and brittle twigs beneath his boots. But the closer they got to the Spire, the less grounded the world felt. The trees around them seemed to shift when he wasn’t looking, their twisted trunks bending in impossible directions. Shadows moved without a source, and faint whispers brushed against his ears, too soft to understand but loud enough to unnerve.

“What is this place?” James asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“A remnant of the Veil,” Rook replied, his eyes fixed on the Spire. “It’s a scar. Something that shouldn’t exist, but does.”

“Wonderful,” James muttered.

“Quiet,” Rook snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. “The Spire can hear.”

James wasn’t sure if Rook meant that literally, but he didn’t dare speak again.

----------------------------------------

As they drew closer, the ground beneath them changed, shifting from damp earth to a brittle, crystalline surface that cracked and shimmered with each step. The air grew colder, and James’s breath misted in front of him. He noticed now that the pulsing light of the Spire wasn’t just emanating from its surface—it was leaking into the world around it, thin tendrils of light weaving through the fog like searching fingers.

“Don’t touch anything,” Rook warned.

James swallowed hard, keeping his arms close to his body. The pull he had felt earlier was stronger now, an almost magnetic force that seemed to draw him toward the Spire.

The group stopped at the base of the towering structure. Up close, it was even more imposing, its surface a jagged labyrinth of sharp edges and glowing veins of energy that pulsed like blood through veins. James felt dizzy just looking at it.

“What now?” Leena asked, her voice taut with tension.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“We wait,” Rook said.

“For what?”

Rook didn’t answer.

----------------------------------------

The waiting was agonizing. Time felt strange here, stretching and compressing unpredictably. Minutes felt like hours, and James couldn’t tell if the sun had moved at all in the sky.

The whispers grew louder, though they still didn’t form words. James could feel them in his mind now, brushing against his thoughts like an unwelcome presence.

Then, without warning, the Spire shifted.

It wasn’t a physical movement—it was more like the world around it had folded in on itself. The air shimmered, and for a moment, James saw fragments of something else: a barren wasteland, a sky filled with swirling colors, shadowy figures moving in the distance.

And then it was gone, leaving him gasping for breath.

“Did anyone else see that?” he asked, his voice trembling.

The others didn’t respond. They were all staring at the Spire, their faces pale.

“It’s opening,” Derrin said quietly, his voice filled with awe and fear.

James followed their gaze and saw that a section of the Spire’s surface had indeed changed. What had been solid crystal was now an opening—a jagged, irregular doorway that pulsed with a faint, otherworldly light.

“Through there?” James asked, his stomach twisting.

“Yes,” Rook said. “And keep your head. The Spire tests everyone who enters. If you lose yourself, we won’t come back for you.”

James didn’t have time to argue. Rook stepped forward, leading the way, and the others followed. James hesitated for only a moment before stepping through the doorway.

----------------------------------------

The interior of the Spire was... wrong.

There was no floor, no walls, no ceiling—just a vast, empty space filled with shifting light and shadow. Shapes flickered in and out of existence, and James couldn’t tell if they were real or just illusions. The air was heavy, and every breath felt like a struggle.

“Stay close!” Rook’s voice echoed strangely, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

James tried to focus on the others, but even that was difficult. Their forms seemed to waver, like reflections on the surface of water. He reached out instinctively, his hand brushing against something solid—only to jerk back as the surface rippled and dissolved into nothingness.

“What the hell is this place?” he muttered.

“It’s the Veil,” Leena said, her voice faint. “Or something like it. Don’t trust what you see.”

The words barely registered. James’s attention was drawn to a figure ahead of them, standing motionless in the distance.

It was himself.

The reflection—or whatever it was—stared back at him with empty eyes, its expression blank. James felt his heart race as the figure took a step toward him, its movements perfectly mirroring his own.

“What is that?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“A test,” Rook said grimly. “Ignore it. Keep moving.”

James tried, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the figure. It was too familiar, too wrong. He felt a pull toward it, the same pull he had felt outside the Spire.

“James, focus!” Rook barked.

The sound of his name snapped him out of it. He stumbled forward, following the others as the figure faded into the distance. But the unease lingered, gnawing at the edges of his mind.

----------------------------------------

The deeper they went, the stranger the Spire became. Time and space twisted, folding in on themselves until James couldn’t tell how far they had walked or how long they had been inside.

Finally, they reached a central chamber—or what felt like one. In its center was a pedestal, carved from the same crystalline material as the Spire itself. On it rested an object: a small, intricate shard of glowing crystal, pulsing faintly with light.

“That’s it,” Derrin whispered. “The Heart of the Spire.”

James felt his chest tighten. The shard seemed to call to him, its light reflecting in his eyes. He stepped forward without thinking, drawn to it.

“Stop!” Rook’s hand shot out, grabbing James by the shoulder.

James froze, the spell broken.

“Don’t touch it,” Rook warned. “The Spire’s heart isn’t for you.”

“Then what do we do?” James asked, his voice hoarse.

Rook’s expression darkened. “We take what we need. And we survive the consequences.”