Inside the Hall of Mirrors, Aarav stepped forward alone, the soft glow from the crystals casting flickering patterns across his face. Each mirror reflected a different version of him—some younger, some hardened, some twisted by doubt and fear.
The air thrummed with quiet power, and the voice from before echoed again:
"Face the light within. Embrace what you fear, or be lost in the dark."
Aarav's heart pounded. Memories surged unbidden—his father's death, the cruelty of the bullies, the loneliness that had shadowed his childhood. The doubt that whispered he was weak, unworthy, powerless.
Suddenly, one reflection stepped out—a version of Aarav shrouded in darkness, eyes burning with resentment. This shadow-self sneered, mocking the boy who dared to hope.
"You think you can carry the Rings? You're just a broken child clinging to empty dreams."
Aarav steadied himself, feeling the Ring of Bone pulse on his wrist as if lending strength.
"No," he replied, voice firm. "I am more than my past. I am the sum of every lesson, every scar, every hope."
The shadow lunged, and the chamber erupted into a whirlwind of light and shadow, reflections shattering and reforming around him.
Aarav closed his eyes, focusing inward. He whispered the ancient mantra Ishira had taught him—words of unity and acceptance.
Slowly, the shadow faltered, shrinking until it dissolved into a warm light that enveloped Aarav.
When he opened his eyes, the mirrors reflected only his true self—resolute, whole, radiant.
A soft glow ignited at his wrist.
The Fourth Ring had accepted him.
A gentle warmth spread through his body, filling him with clarity and purpose.
Outside, the monks bowed deeply.
"You have passed the trial, Flamebearer. The path grows brighter."