Lirien returned to the chamber with her robe covered in red blood and her sword painted in deep red blood. As Lirien sheathed her sword, Ethan gasped in terror.
"The power of Aetherion is cradled in your presence." Wiping the blood from her face, Lirien said in a low hum. Staring down at the crystalline walls that reflected the starlight, Ethan pushed back. Ethan trailed behind Lirien as she strode forward, her cloak guiding him with a faint shimmer.
"Gatekeepers are bound by the Sanctum of the High Gods themselves and the Ninegates. You must take the oath, Marcus."
Hearing Lirien ask him to take the oath made Ethan stop dead in his tracks. "What is this oath about?" Ethan queried. "What's the catch, then?"
Lirien's eyes remained fixed. "A commitment to protect the Ninegates from bleeds and Voidspawn. Your starlight will be bound by the High Gods, giving them the ability to close the gates." "The bait?" Lirien twitched her lips without grinning. "It is the realms that you serve, not yourself. Their will is… unchangeable."
Something churned in Ethan's stomach. Lirien had used the phrase "High Gods" previously. She had previously said that Aetherion's light was blessed by the High Gods. He thought of the ichor-soaked Voidspawn and the void-tremor in the gate-chamber. These realm-bleeds were not metaphors; they were existential threats. However, Marcus's journal, which was concealed in his robe, forewarned of Council deceit.
"What happens if I leave?" Ethan observed Lirien's response while testing.
Her face grew stern. "Marcus, you are a gatekeeper. Deserters are not tolerated by the Council. You have witnessed the hunger of the void." Her tone was almost enticing. "The tremors are getting worse."
Then, she was unaware. Ethan's relief was concealed by a silent exhale. However, her urgency and the aftershock of the tremor that was still pulsing through his bones forced him to move forward. Refusing the oath would raise suspicions, and he couldn't afford to make a mistake while Valthor was watching. With a deliberate decision to play the role, he nodded.
"Let's do it," he said, summoning Marcus's determination.
Lirien pointed to a dais where liquid starlight pulsed around a star-shaped altar. Each of the nine crystal orbs that surrounded it glowed with the essence of its respective realm: emerald for Sylvareth, crimson for Pyrehold, and sapphire for Aetherion. Ethan's rune burned with a presence that was either a warning or a call, and the air became heavier.
"Put your hand on the altar," Lirien instructed. "You will be bound—or broken—by the High Gods."
With his heart pounding, Ethan took a step forward. The light from the altar flared, illuminating the room with his shadow, which was too sharp and alien. Reality broke as he touched the crystal with his palm marked with runes.
Through him came a surge, raw and flaming, like diving into a supernova. When his vision broke, three colossal figures emerged, their power overwhelming him. Their gaze pinned him like a specimen, Serathys, a lattice of uncompromising order. His soul was being nourished by the warmth of Lumara, a glowing hearth. A storm of transformation, Vyrathys's laughter served as a weapon against his anxieties. His nerves were burned with power as their starlight infused his being in a sacred binding ritual.
Their voices thundered, a chorus that rocked the gatekeeper to his very being. "You're destined to be in the Ninegates. Defend the realms. Seal the gates. Be cautious of the forbidden gate while seeking the truth."
With the name of the tenth gate blazing unbidden and connected to Zorathys's shadow and the rune's whisper, Ethan's mind whirled.
Gasping, he staggered back as the altar grew dimmer. With a bruised grip, Lirien held him steady. "You made it through," she said, examining him too intently. "What did you observe?"
Ethan trusted his instincts and told the truth. The fact that the High Gods were aware of his transmigration served as both his burden and leverage. Zorathys's invisible hand and Valthor's sly gaze were the only ones who knew this. Even though Lirien was innocent, her curiosity was dangerous.
His voice was rough as he said, "Light. Power. Responsibility." He looked her in the eyes and urged her to ask more questions.
There was a flicker of doubt—or calculation?—in her eyes as she nodded. "The binding is finished. Now that you are bound to starlight, you are a gatekeeper. Use it wisely."
With his hand flexed, Ethan could see the faint glow of the rune, its energy now his own. A force of divine origin, starlight magic pulsed, a system he would have to learn to survive. But the Gods' warning—beware the forbidden gate—was a riddle, and the binding felt like chains. Did the Council, or they, have the secret of the tenth gate? It was Zorathys's or Valthor's.
Lirien guided him to an alcove with runes etched on it, the walls glistening with the sigils of the gatekeeper. "Tomorrow is when your training starts," she said. "Starlight is a weapon, but it must be used responsibly. Rest for the time being." The journal caught her attention. "Are there any noteworthy points in the notes?"
A detective's reflex caused Ethan to raise his defenses. Lirien was too hungry and too acerbic in her interest. With its mysterious writing acting as a shield, he opened the journal and allowed the rune to lead his fingers to a new line. He broke a cipher from his Earth days cracking cult codes, and the code unraveled.
With his heart racing, he read quietly, "The tenth gate is forbidden." His face remained expressionless as he looked up. He lied and put the journal away, claiming that it was mainly training drills and that it was only "gatekeeper notes."
Lirien smiled, but it stopped short of her eyes. "All right. Do not allow these obsessions to divert your attention."
The ring of her words was hollow. The key, hidden in the shadows of Nullvox and prohibited by both men and gods, was the tenth gate, not a diversion. "The Council hides the truth," the journal's previous hint, suggested dishonesty. Lirien's questioning, the Gods' admonition, and Valthor's gaze all intertwined to create a plot that Ethan would either discover or miss.
Above the Sanctum, crystals chimed as a slight rumble shook the building. According to Bolt's seismic warnings, there was another void-tremor that was mild but sharp, like a fault line stirring. With her gaze flitting to the altar, Lirien's hand hovered close to her blade. "The gates become agitated," she uttered, almost to herself. "Marcus, be prepared. The void doesn't wait."