With its crystalline walls dimming as though it were lamenting the warning tremor of the earthquake, the Aetherion training chamber's starlight flickered dimly in the wake of the tremor's aftershock. With his fledgling shield rune still glowing dimly from his halting success, Ethan stood motionless, his quartz shard warm in his palm. Tension was in the air—those invisible eyes, a chilly jolt, hung there, unmoving, ever since the floor shook. With her sword partially drawn, Sylra Veyne peered into the darkness, her green eyes narrowed.
"Move it, Marcus!" Sharp but tinged with uneasiness, Sylra's voice cracked like a spark. She sheathed her blade and looked at the cracked wall from the tremor, her auburn hair gleaming in the starlight. "You're weak—you barely hold your rune. Our next destination is the Starlit Sanctum, where the starlight is purer. Let's go."
With trembling fingers, Ethan pocketed the shard and nodded. The unseen watcher followed Sylra through a glowing archway with crystals pulsing overhead, but his gaze remained heavy. "Torren's checking the relays?" he said, his voice strained, his fear concealed by adopting Marcus's tone.
With her boots resonating in the passage, Sylra answered, "Void's stirring—he's on it. You focus, Marcus. Gates doesn't wait for uncertainty." She looked back, and her voice grew softer, worry etched on her face.
Ethan's wrist tingled as the passage lowered, the air growing warmer and alive with a celestial hum—seek the truth. His thoughts were racing: Nullvox's key, Valthor's stare, and Torren's warning. Despite taking the gatekeeper's oath, he hadn't accepted himself as Marcus, the gatekeeper, but Sylra's trust weighed heavily on him. Would the mask of his impostor break, or could he use starlight? He couldn't understand the warning that the tremor—void-energy, Nullvox's pull—was sending.
The Starlit Sanctum, a cavernous dome with starlight swirling across the ceiling like a captured cosmos, was where the passage opened. Pillars made of quartz and obsidian stood guard, their runes—arcs and spirals—glow silver and hum with strength. A huge crystal was held in the center of the altar, and the light from it shattered into sigils that moved across the floor. The energy of the Sanctum was strong, intensifying the rune on Ethan's wrist and making its pulse a silent command. He felt insignificant and like a fake in Marcus's eyes, but the starlight begged him to give it a shot.
Sylra dropped a satchel of rune tools from a pillar. Her voice was firm but steady as she said, "Here, Marcus. The breath of the High Gods is deep—the starlight of Sanctum is raw. Create a shield rune by etching two curves and a crossbar. If you do it incorrectly, the gates will find you useless."
Lirien Thalor was announced with a soft tread before Ethan could say anything. Her eyes met Ethan's with a serenity that seemed too intense, and her silver hair glinted in her shimmering acolyte robes. Her voice was lilting but sharp as she said, "Marcus, you're troubled. The tremor is an indication that gatekeepers are carrying heavy objects. Runes are your shield, according to Sylra."
Ethan tightened his throat and grasped the shard while nodding. It felt purposeful for Lirien to return after her gate-check absence, her eyes tearing at his deception. "I'll get by," he said, imitating Marcus's perseverance. As shadows moved along the edges of the Sanctum, the unseen watcher's gaze grew more intense.
Lying on her knees close to the altar, Lirien traced a glowing sigil. "Remember your responsibility first, Marcus," she said. Initiates are the entry-level rank of gatekeepers, which includes recruits undergoing training to become full gatekeepers. Starlight magic, gate runes, and basic combat are studied, with an emphasis on loyalty and discipline. Although they are not yet gate guards, initiates are stationed in Aetherion's Crystal Spire and are supervised by acolytes. I, along with other acolytes, work as support staff at the gates. We protect less volatile gates, such as the Ninth Gate of Aetherion, keep an eye on realm-bleeds, and support Wardens and Sentinels. Sentinels, elite agents tasked with protecting vital gates and fending off formidable foes like Star-eaters and Voidspawn swarms, form the core of the gatekeepers. The highest gatekeeper rank is held by wardens, such as Sylra and Torren, who are senior leaders in charge of managing Council directives and commanding entire gates or regions. The gates that bound the multiverse were forged during the Dawn War by the High Gods, whom we serve. She gave him a quick, piercing glance. Marcus, even though you're a warden, your runes are slow. Why was something broken in that forbidden gate mission?
Ethan felt his heart thump. He echoed Sylra's description of Marcus's mission when he said, "It… took a toll." "I'm putting it back together." Anguish tormented him—how long could he conceal the truth?
Lirien stared for a long moment before softening. Everybody is put to the test by the gates. We are anchored by the starlight—Serathys, Lumara, and Vyrathys' guidance, though their power diminished following the Dawn War. She got up and took a step back. "Get in shape, Marcus. You must go through the gates."
Sylra's eyes were firm but kind as she handed Ethan a new shard. "Alright, Marcus. The starlight of Sanctum is a river; pull it deep. Two curves and a crossbar for protection. It is straightforward but prevents void breaches." She followed the design, a shield of light flickering momentarily.
Ethan was standing next to a pillar, surrounded by the hum of the Sanctum. He was Ethan Cole, a nobody on Earth and not a gatekeeper, but something—hope or desperation—was stirred by the starlight. The warmth was stronger, a tingling sensation in his core as he reached for it. The shard he scratched had uneven crossbars and wobbly curves. With a faint flickering shield, the rune glowed before dying. How could he bear Marcus's burden? Anger flared.
With a softer tone, Sylra said, "Calm down. Marcus, you're resisting it. Not a chain, but the breath of Starlight. Allow the Sanctum to permeate your being. She steered his hand with a steady hand.
Ethan took a deep breath and let go of his uncertainty. Warm and vibrant, the starlight surged. He traced—crossbar smooth, curves steady. The shield was solid, glowing, and humming softly as the rune flared. Pride flared because he had done it, despite being a phony.
"That's my warden," Sylra smiled and said. "Never give up, Marcus. Gates requires that fire."
Lirien nodded, but it seemed like she could tell he was lying because her eyes were too keen. The unseen watcher's gaze pressed, a chill cutting through the warmth of the Sanctum, and Ethan's victory waned. Like a hunter's gaze, he looked at the shadows, which were empty but growing heavier.
A sharp, vivid flash of Marcus's memory, not his, ripped through him. Marcus Reed was kneeling in a shrine, with Lumara's statue surrounded by starlight and her sapphire eyes glowing. A golden light and a chimes-like voice said, "Nullvox stirs, Marcus," as a vision came to life. "The tenth gate trembles. Locate the key, or everything will fall." With duty and fear at odds, Marcus's heart pounded, and the key was in his journal, which was open to Nullvox. With a lingering whisper, the vision vanished: High Gods see, but they cannot save. With his breath ragged, Ethan squirmed as the shard slipped.
"Marcus!" To keep him steady, Sylra took hold of his arm. "What's the matter? You're trembling."
"A memory," Ethan exclaimed, his heart thumping. The journal, Torren's caution, and Valthor's eyes were all reflected in Lumara's vision of Nullvox, the tenth gate. Was this the weaker call of the High Gods, constrained by the Dawn War? Like he had been awakened, the observer's gaze grew icier.
"Memory?" Lirien approached with a gentle yet sharp voice. "What did you see, Marcus? The forbidden gate? Truths are not concealed by gatekeepers.
Ethan stopped. He was unable to admit it. "A shrine," he uttered softly. Lumara mentioned a key called Nullvox. Problems are on the way. With heavy guilt, he held onto the shard.
Lirien narrowed her eyes after they flashed. "Lumara's vision? Marcus, that's terrible. Zorathys is held by Nullvox. The gates could be in danger if she had warned you." She looked tensely at Sylra. "The Council must be informed."
Sylra grimaced. "Lirien, hold on. Torren has a point regarding the elders, but Valthor ignores warnings. Marcus, hold on tight until we're certain." She lowered her eyes. "Are you okay?"
Ethan nodded, but there was a sudden flicker, like a heart skipping, in the starlight of the Sanctum. The crystal of the altar pulsed wildly, and the runes on the pillars stammered. The floor shook with a deep rumble, and dust began to fall from the dome. Unexpectedly, Ethan's shield rune's dome flared and shimmered around him.
"Gate flicker!" Sylra pulled out her dagger and yelled. "Lirien, altar—now! Marcus, hold that shield!"
With her hands creating sigils and the starlight flaring, Lirien sprang to the crystal. "The Ninth Gate is opening—the surge of Void-energy is happening!" Her voice was strained as she yelled. "Fortify the rune, Marcus!"
The starlight was chaotic, and Ethan's hands trembled. He poured the glow of the Sanctum onto the shield, tracing its curves and crossbar. With the shield solid and the rune blazing, he was surrounded. Marcus's body was pushed to its breaking point, and his chest burned, but it held.
Runes remained steady, the crystal calmed, and the rumble subsided. Sheathing her blade, Sylra let out a breath. "Too damn close. Well done, Marcus; that shield bought us some extra time." She held on to his shoulder, but her uneasy gaze swept over the darkness.
Lirien backed off, looking pale. "Nullvox's taint—Void's pushing. Your vision is not a coincidence, Marcus." She looked suspiciously into his eyes. "Are you holding back anything else?"
The shard was heavy, and Ethan shook his head. Under the watcher's relentless gaze, he lied and said, "Nothing." The starlight in the Sanctum flickered, brittle against the shadows that appeared to be closing in, observing, and waiting.