The wind howled through the dense forest, rustling the ancient branches above as Rylan walked deeper into the unknown. Every step forward felt heavier than the last, not from fatigue but from the burden of what he had learned. The voice of the Watchers still echoed in his mind, a whisper in the recesses of his consciousness.
The cost of mastery is often more than you are willing to pay.
He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. The truth had always been there, lingering at the edges of his thoughts, but now it had been spoken aloud. There was no turning back.
The hooded figure who had been watching him from the shadows stepped forward, their presence neither threatening nor reassuring. Their features remained hidden beneath the heavy folds of their cloak, but their voice was low and firm.
"You hesitate," they said. "You've been given knowledge, yet you falter. Why?"
Rylan narrowed his eyes. "Because I don't know if the price is worth it."
The figure let out a slow breath, as if they had heard the same hesitation in countless others before him. "Power demands sacrifice. You knew that before you ever set foot on this path."
Rylan turned away, frustration boiling in his veins. "Knowing something and experiencing it are two different things."
The figure was silent for a long moment before speaking again. "Perhaps. But you don't have the luxury of doubt anymore."
Rylan exhaled sharply. He knew they were right. The time for uncertainty had long passed. He had already set foot on the road toward Sigil Sovereignty—toward Sigil Apotheosis. If he hesitated now, if he faltered, everything he had endured, everything he had fought for, would be for nothing.
He turned back toward the figure, his gray eyes burning with determination. "Then tell me what I need to do."
The figure nodded approvingly. "First, you must understand the nature of your Sigil. You are close to the Sovereign realm, but you don't yet grasp the deeper truths. The Sigils are not mere marks of power. They are a test—one that has claimed countless souls before you."
Rylan frowned. He had studied Sigils for years, learned how to wield their power, how to unlock their hidden potential. But something about the figure's words unsettled him. "A test?" he echoed.
The figure lifted a hand, and the air around them shimmered. A sigil appeared, glowing with a dark, pulsating light. It was unlike any sigil Rylan had ever seen, its form shifting constantly, as if alive. "The Watchers do not bestow power without cost. The Sigils grant strength, but they also chain you. The deeper you go, the tighter their grip becomes."
Rylan felt a chill creep up his spine. He had always believed that mastery over the Sigil meant complete freedom. That once he reached Apotheosis, he would be free from the limits of mortality. But now, doubts gnawed at the edges of his mind. What if reaching Sigil Apotheosis was not the end—but a new kind of imprisonment?
"What happens if I fail?" Rylan asked, his voice quieter than before.
The figure's sigil pulsed once, then faded into nothingness. "Then you will become one of the Forgotten."
Rylan swallowed hard. He had heard the stories—the legends of those who had attempted to ascend but failed. They were said to be erased from existence, their names and legacies lost to time, as if they had never been.
"Then I can't fail," Rylan murmured.
The figure took a step forward, their presence looming. "No, you cannot."
The wind stirred again, carrying with it the scent of rain. Dark clouds gathered above, heavy with the promise of a storm. The air was thick with something more than just the coming rain—there was an energy in the atmosphere, something ancient and foreboding.
Rylan instinctively placed a hand over his chest, feeling the faint warmth of his own sigil beneath his tunic. The sigil was growing stronger. It pulsed in response to something unseen, as if reacting to the very world around him.
The figure extended a hand toward him. "You must take the next step, Rylan Ashford. There is no more time for hesitation."
Rylan hesitated only for a second before reaching out. As their hands met, a surge of power rushed through him, like fire searing through his veins. His vision blurred, and suddenly, the world around him shifted.
---
When his vision cleared, he was no longer in the forest.
Rylan gasped, staggering slightly as he took in his surroundings. He stood on an endless expanse of black stone, beneath a sky that churned with swirling golden clouds. The air was thick with an energy that made his skin tingle.
A realm beyond the mortal world. A place that should not exist.
He turned sharply toward the figure, who now stood at the edge of the abyss. "Where are we?" Rylan demanded.
The figure's voice remained calm. "A fragment of the Void. A place between realms."
Rylan's heart pounded. He had heard of such places before, whispers of realms that existed between the cracks of reality. Places where the rules of the mortal world no longer applied.
The figure gestured to the abyss before them. "If you wish to ascend, you must face the truth of your own Sigil. You must step into the Void and claim what is yours."
Rylan stared at the swirling darkness, feeling an invisible force pulling at him. His Sigil burned against his skin, responding to something beyond his comprehension.
He knew, without a doubt, that this was a test. One that could very well claim his life.
But there was no turning back now.
Gritting his teeth, Rylan took a deep breath—and stepped forward.
The moment his foot touched the darkness, everything shattered.
The air was ripped from his lungs, and an unseen force seized him, dragging him downward into the endless void. Shadows wrapped around him like tendrils, pulling him deeper and deeper into the abyss.
Pain shot through his body as the Sigil on his chest flared with brilliant light, fighting against the darkness that sought to consume him. His mind screamed in protest, but he held on, refusing to let go.
Memories flickered before his eyes—his childhood, the faces of those he had left behind, the countless battles he had fought. And then, beyond the pain and the fear, a voice echoed through the void.
You seek to rise beyond mortality. You seek power beyond comprehension. But are you willing to pay the price?
Rylan clenched his fists, his entire body trembling. "I will pay whatever it takes," he growled.
The darkness surged around him, tightening its grip. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.
A blinding light erupted from his Sigil, forcing back the shadows. The abyss trembled, and for a moment, the entire realm seemed to quake.
Then, a new Sigil appeared before him—vast, ancient, and pulsing with divine energy. It hovered in the air, waiting.
Rylan knew what he had to do.
Reaching out, he grasped the Sigil, and in that instant, everything changed.
A rush of power flooded his body, unlike anything he had ever felt before. His mind expanded, reaching beyond the limits of mortal understanding. The truth of the Sigil-Bearers, the Watchers, the very nature of ascension—it all became clear in a single, shattering moment.
And then—
He awoke.
Gasping, he found himself back in the forest, his body shaking, his Sigil glowing with an intensity that was almost blinding.
The hooded figure stood before him, watching in silence.
Rylan lifted a trembling hand, staring at the new mark etched upon his palm.
He had taken the first step toward Apotheosis.
And there was no turning back.
---
To be continued...