Chapter 10: The Forge’s Test

The light from the veins seemed to dance more erratically now, casting shifting patterns across the walls as Coza and Edna pressed forward. The cavern narrowed, the air thick with an oppressive weight that made every breath feel deliberate. The silence was no longer tranquil; it pulsed with an unspoken tension, as though the very stone around them held its breath.

Coza glanced at Edna. Her posture was rigid, her weapon gripped tightly as her eyes scanned the shadows ahead. She hadn’t spoken since the obelisk’s revelation, and her silence left a ringing in Coza’s ears that felt louder than any noise. The sphere in his pocket hummed faintly, its pulse now matching the rhythm of his own heartbeat.

The path opened abruptly into a cavernous space unlike any they’d seen before. The ceiling stretched high above, vanishing into darkness, and the ground underfoot was no longer solid stone but a strange, shifting sand that gleamed like powdered metal. Pools of liquid light dotted the landscape, their surfaces rippling despite the absence of wind.

Edna crouched and dipped her fingers into the sand, letting the metallic grains fall through her hands. “It shouldn’t be like this,” she murmured.

Coza frowned. “What do you mean?”

“This place changes,” Edna said. “It reflects... something. Your presence. The artifact’s. It’s reacting to us.”

“Is that good or bad?” Coza asked warily.

Edna stood, her expression unreadable. “It’s never good.”

They moved carefully across the shifting ground, their steps slow and deliberate. The pools of light shimmered as they passed, their ripples growing more pronounced. Coza caught a glimpse of something beneath one of the pools—dark shapes, shifting and writhing as though alive.

“What’s under there?” he asked, his voice low.

Edna didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes remained fixed on the path ahead. Finally, she said, “Things that were trapped long before we came here. Don’t give them a reason to wake up.”

Coza shivered and tightened his grip on the sphere. Its glow seemed to pulse brighter in response, casting faint beams of light that illuminated the path ahead. The cavern felt alive, its every creak and groan like the breath of some slumbering beast.

Ahead, the ground began to slope upward, leading to a jagged ridge. Edna reached it first, crouching low as she peered over the edge. Coza joined her, his breath catching as he took in the sight below.

The chamber beyond the ridge was immense, its walls lined with ancient machinery that hummed faintly with life. Massive gears and conduits ran along the walls, their surfaces covered in the same glowing veins they’d seen throughout the caverns. At the center of the room stood a monolithic structure, its surface smooth and black as obsidian. The veins converged on it like tributaries feeding a river, their light pulsing in perfect synchronization.

“What is that?” Coza whispered.

Edna’s expression darkened. “A forge.”

Coza blinked. “A forge? For what?”

“For everything,” Edna said. “And for nothing. It’s a relic of the old world, older than anything you’ve seen. Some say it created the veins, others say it was made to contain them. Whatever the truth is, it’s not dormant.”

Coza stared at the forge, a knot tightening in his stomach. The sphere in his hand grew warmer, its pulse quickening. “It’s connected to the artifact.”

“Of course it is,” Edna said, her voice bitter. “That’s why it brought you here.”

As they descended the ridge, the whispers returned, faint and fragmented. Coza paused, glancing at the walls. The symbols etched into the stone glowed faintly, their patterns shifting like the veins.

“They’re back,” he said, his voice trembling.

Edna nodded grimly. “They’ll get louder the closer we get to the forge.”

“Why?” Coza asked.

“Because it remembers,” Edna said. “It remembers what it was built for. What it lost.”

Coza frowned, his frustration mounting. “And what am I supposed to do? Just listen to it?”

“No,” Edna said sharply. “You’re supposed to decide.”

Coza opened his mouth to argue, but the whispers grew louder, drowning out his thoughts. The symbols on the walls flared with light, and the air around them vibrated with a low, resonant hum. The forge pulsed in time with the sphere, its surface rippling like liquid glass.

The voices coalesced into a single, deafening roar. “The cycle must be broken.”

Coza stumbled, his hands flying to his ears. The sphere in his pocket flared with light, its warmth now searing. The ground beneath his feet shifted, the sand rippling as though alive.

Edna grabbed his arm, pulling him upright. “Focus! It’s testing you.”

“What does it want?” Coza shouted over the roar.

“To see if you’re strong enough,” Edna said. “If you’re worthy of carrying the spark.”

Coza’s mind raced. The forge loomed ahead, its light blinding, and the whispers pressed against his skull like a vice. He stumbled forward, his grip on the sphere tightening as the light consumed everything around him.

The world dissolved into white.

When Coza’s vision cleared, he was standing in a space that defied comprehension. The ground beneath his feet was smooth and reflective, like a mirror, and the air shimmered with an ethereal light. Shadows moved at the edges of his vision, their shapes flickering and indistinct.

“You are the spark,” a voice intoned, deep and resonant. It wasn’t Edna’s voice, nor was it the fragmented whispers from before. It was something greater, something ancient.

Coza turned slowly, his gaze sweeping the space. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“No one does,” the voice replied. “And yet, here you stand.”

The sphere floated from his grasp, rising into the air before him. Its surface glowed brighter than ever, its pulsing rhythm now steady and deliberate.

“What do you want from me?” Coza demanded.

“To choose,” the voice said. “To end or begin.”

Coza frowned. “What does that mean?”

The sphere’s light flared, and images flooded his mind. The Harbor collapsing under its own weight. The veins spreading, consuming everything in their path. A world reborn, vibrant and untamed. A world destroyed, reduced to ash and silence.

“It is the nature of the spark,” the voice said. “To burn. To illuminate. To destroy.”

Coza clenched his fists. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You will,” the voice said. “When the time comes.”

The light faded, and Coza found himself back in the cavern. The forge loomed before him, its surface smooth and impenetrable. Edna stood nearby, her expression unreadable.

“What happened?” she asked.

Coza shook his head. “I... don’t know.”

Edna studied him for a moment before turning toward the forge. “Then let’s find out.”

The forge pulsed once more, its light casting long shadows across the cavern. Coza stared at it, his chest heavy with the weight of what lay ahead. Whatever choice awaited him, he knew it would reshape everything.