Veyra limped through the tunnel, her thigh and arm throbbing with every step. The gene-seeds' energy had kept her going through the trial, but now that the adrenaline was fading, the pain was overwhelming. She needed to treat her wounds, to rest, but the Sanctum of Echoes offered no respite.
The tunnel was cold, the walls smooth and unyielding, and the air hummed with a strange energy that set her nerves on edge. The tunnel opened into a small chamber, its walls lined with glowing green crystals. In the center was a shallow pool of clear liquid, its surface shimmering with a faint light.
The gene-seeds in her pack pulsed stronger, their energy resonating with the pool. Veyra approached certificateiously, her hand on her knife. The voice spoke again, its tone softer this time. "This is the Healing Chamber," it said. "The waters will mend your wounds, but they will also test your resolve."
Veyra didn't hesitate. She knelt by the pool, scooping the liquid into her hands. It was warm, almost alive, and as she poured it over her thigh, the pain began to fade. The wound closed before her eyes, the skin knitting together as if it had never been cut.
She unwrapped the bandage on her arm, pouring more water over the burn. The blisters disappeared, leaving her skin smooth and unscarred. She sighed in relief, the gene-seeds' warmth spreading through her body. But the voice's warning echoed in her mind.
As she stood, the pool's surface rippled, and a figure rose from the water, a figure made entirely of the shimmering liquid. It took the shape of a woman, her features eerily similar to Veyra's own—same sharp jawline, same fierce eyes—but her expression was cold, almost lifeless. The figure's voice echoed the same ancient tone Veyra had heard before, but it carried a mocking edge. "To heal is to face yourself," it said. "Prove you are worthy of the Void's gifts."
Veyra stepped back, her hand tightening around her knife. The liquid figure mirrored her movement, its form rippling with each step.
Veyra's heart raced—she didn't want to fight again, not so soon after the last trial, but the figure gave her no choice. It lunged, its arm extending into a whip-like tendril that lashed out at her. Veyra dodged, her enhanced reflexes kicking in, and slashed with her knife.
The blade passed through the figure, the liquid reforming instantly. The figure laughed, a hollow sound that echoed through the chamber. "You cannot fight what you are," it said, its voice a distorted version of Veyra's own. It attacked again, this time splitting into two tendrils that struck from both sides.
Veyra summoned a shield of light, the tendrils bouncing off, but the impact sent her stumbling. The figure reformed, its face twisting into a sneer. "Weak," it hissed. "The Void will devour you."
Veyra's mind raced. This wasn't a physical fight—she could feel it. The figure was a manifestation of something deeper, something inside her. She thought back to the voice's words: "Prove you are worthy." This was a test of her resolve, not her strength.
She lowered her knife, her hands glowing faintly, and faced the figure. "I'm not weak," she said, her voice steady. "I've survived Krynn. I've survived the Gene Lords. I'll survive you."
The figure paused, its form rippling. Veyra took a step forward, her hands glowing brighter. "I don't know what the Void is, but I won't let it control me. I choose my own path."
The figure's sneer faded, and for a moment, it looked almost… proud. Then it dissolved, the liquid splashing back into the pool. The voice spoke again, its tone warm. "You have passed the second trial. Your resolve is your strength. Rest now, for the path ahead grows darker."
The green crystals in the chamber glowed brighter, their light soothing Veyra's aching body. She sat by the pool, her breathing steadying. The gene-seeds in her pack pulsed softly, their energy calming her. She didn't know what other trials awaited her, but for the first time since finding the gene-seeds, she felt a flicker of hope. She could do this.