The Medusa had warned him—there might be more than one objective. And if I fail… Something will happen.
He still didn’t know what an Edict actually did—just that it could flatten cities, warp people, and wasn’t meant to be understood. So far, so gloomy. But if an Edict can destroy a city… what exactly am I carrying?
His chest tightened. A hot stone behind his ribs. Is it inside me? Triggered by thought? By fear? He couldn’t stop picturing a city vanishing into fire.
Holding back his frustration was harder than it should’ve been. Why couldn’t anyone just give a straight answer? Corpses this, magic that, chosen one nonsense… he hadn’t even been here for five hours.
He felt tears welling up. Grinding his teeth and breathing slowly, he forced the anger and grief back down. Rhea touched his shoulder. “What is burdening you?”
Should I tell her? Talking helps. But I’m still in danger. Once I start… no telling how hard this all hits. “Nothing,” he said. Then paused. “Later. This is all very different from my life.”
She nodded. The contact lingered just long enough to register. He felt a bit of the pressure ease. “Well,” Rhea muttered, stepping toward the slope, “seems like it’s time to get shit thrown at us.”
The barrage began shortly after. Gravel and manure rained from above. But the branches were a blessing. They could huddle behind their boulders, pushing in short bursts. The stinging gravel bit into their skin. Rhea caught some in her eye early on, but they cleared it quickly, rotating cover between the three stones. It was exhausting. Tedious. But effective.
They outpaced the others. When they reached the top, a man in a plain green robe approached them. Aaron felt a cold prickle settle on his spine the moment he locked eyes with him.
The man gave them a once-over and smirked at the branches they’d used as levers. His gaze lingered a bit too long on Aaron. “Follow me.” They fell in behind him—filthy, thirsty, drained. A few slaves moved to meet them. The hilltop was itself a gentle hill, much more pleasant that the steep slope.
So that was the trial. Nothing complicated. Then came a crunching sound. Rock against rock. They turned. Three slaves had pushed their boulders back down the hilltop.
“Seems like the Weaver’s Hand hasn’t stilled yet,” the man said cheerfully, nodding at the still-moving stones as if fate itself hadn’t finished writing their story. “Bring them up again.”
Theon grabbed Rhea’s hand. He looked resigned. Rhea’s glare could’ve cut glass. Aaron just sighed. Of course. Sisyphus would be proud.
They descended in silence. Rhea’s oddly calm. She was furious before. Now she just accepts it. Theon’s the same. Military background maybe? Or are they just used to this kind of thing? Back home, a child psychologist would have a stroke.
At the base, Theon broke the silence. “Mother’s wrath, what just happened?”
“We used sticks,” Rhea snapped. “Told you.” They started bickering. They are normal teenagers, after all. Great. I'm a teenager again too. At least biologically. Another entry on the existential horror list.
While they argued, Aaron scanned the slope. It was too straight. Too uniform. Fifty meters wide. Their boulders had landed far into the trampled grass. Grooves scored the earth.
He wandered closer. Shallow furrows. His rock had made the same pattern. He looked up the hill, thoughtful.
Let them blow off steam first. Still... their fight is weird. Loud, but no escalation. No screaming. No pushing. Calm anger. Almost formal.
“Hey guys!” The argument stopped dead. Both turned instantly. Full attention. Okay. That’s not normal. Cultural? Training? Something else?
“Look at the mulch and furrows. I think they push everyone’s stone back down. ”The two examined the terrain, then walked over to him. “Seems you were right,” Rhea admitted, matter-of-fact.
“But why?” Theon frowned. “What’s the real task here?” Another contestant reached the top. She jumped off the stone, and snarled at the slaves. She attacke and collaped instantly. One slave shoved the boulder down. It almost hit a boy below. The girl’s limp form followed it shortly after.
“She was expecting it,” Rhea observed. “Still dumb enough to fight a mind mage.” Theon was already turning away, unconcerned.
“Neither pushing it up nor defending it is the answer,” he muttered. “Maybe we just have to bring it up multiple times?”
“That sounds too simple,” Aaron said. “If this is a riddle, there’s gotta be a clue.”
“Or it’s just brute force,” Rhea offered. “And you’re overthinking it.”
“In my world, there’s a story about a guy forced to roll a boulder uphill forever. Know anything like that?”
Theon thought for a moment. “No. What’s the answer?”
“Finding happiness in the repetition.”
“Rolling’s fun,” Rhea said, “but I’d rather eat a worm.”
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They lapsed into silence. Three others reached the top. One ran down, one just stood at the edge, one stared down the slaves. None approached them. Strange. You’d think someone would talk to us. Aaron’s mind wandered. The names. Something odd about them.
He turned to Theon. “Rhea’s not a noble, right?”
“No,” Theon said. “She’s the daughter of one of my brother’s sergeants. We grew up together. She’s my bodyguard.”
“Not that there’s much to guard,” she teased.
“As for her demeanor,” Theon added, “that’s a mix of personality, prowess, and my protection. I apologize.”
She glared for a second, then smiled. That makes sense. A commoner mage? The family would want to integrate her. Give the heir a protector.
“Let’s go over what we were told,” Aaron said. “Bring the rock around the hill, up the slope, to the summit, right?” Theon nodded as Rhea started laughing. She looked at them expectantly. “You’ve both got the brains. But did neither of you look past the cursed ledge?”
A thud behind them. Another student shoved off the ledge. “Everyone stops at the plateau’s edge, yes?”
Aaron and Theon spoke in unison. “But it’s not the highest point!”
“Exactly,” Rhea said. “The far side’s a full man taller.”
They took their sticks and stones and made for the slope again. Gravel and dung fell, but they pushed past it. They didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate.
Slaves blocked the path at first before parting. The green-robed mage smiled. “Looks like we might have a group of Epoptai for the Academy.” Aaron gave the man a closer look. Slightly pudgy. Twinkling eyes. Simple rings. But then the choker. The nose ring. Odd choices.
They pushed the boulders up to the highest point. “Very well. You think,” the mage said. “I’ve never seen it done in two attempts. Over half give up after a day. Would you believe that?”
His voice was warm. Familiar. Too familiar. Aaron felt calm. Peaceful. Too peaceful. His jaw unclenched. His breath slowed. Wait. That’s not me. That’s not mine.
He frowned. The warmth turned sharp, wrong. He’s in my head.
The man stared directly at him. A glint in his eye. Theon and Rhea beamed. Theon bowed his head. He’s manipulating us.
‘Yes’, came a whisper that reverbarated in his head. ‘Don’t react. Don’t blink. Don’t think too loudly.’
The mind mage’s smile didn’t falter. His eyes glinted with unreadable amusement.
‘Find me after the aptitude tests,’ the whisper continued. ‘You have potential to join our elusive ranks.’
Aaron’s body stayed calm. Too calm. He’s altering my emotions. Reading my thoughts. And I can’t do anything about it.
But he had to admit— This is fascinating. Terrifying, but fascinating. His memories flickered—his breakdown after waking, the visions, the presence behind the stars.
What could someone like him do with that kind of knowledge? He stared at the mage. The mage tilted his head. One of his rings shimmered oddly, catching the sunlight and fracturing it into prismatic colors across Aaron’s face.
They stood at the summit. The stones, finally still, said nothing. Theon leaned on his staff, sweat dripping into the dirt. Rhea rubbed her sore shoulder. Aaron turned toward the green-robed man again—no, the mind mage.
He stood with his arms crossed, expression unreadable. But Aaron felt it. The calm. The warmth. A sense of closeness that didn’t quite belong. He’s still in my head. Adjusting the temperature. Like a room made cozy so you forget you walked in barefoot.
The man took a few steps closer, hands clasped behind his back. He smiled gently at each of them in turn before his gaze settled on Aaron.
“You see things clearly,” he said. “That will serve you well.” There it is again. That… certainty. Like I’m being affirmed by someone who already knows where I’ll end up.
Aaron nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He knew any tone of voice, any look, would be parsed and dissected instantly. "Most who reach this summit are brutes with endurance. Some are clever. Few see past the surface. And fewer still…" The man trailed off, his eyes glinting. "…ask the right questions."
Aaron's throat tightened. He is not just reading thoughts. He’s... shaping them. Weaving them into a script he already knows the end of.
Theon and Rhea stood quietly nearby, respectful but not tense. Theon looked proud. Rhea looked wary. Then the mind mage stepped forward. Not threatening—no. The exact opposite. Like a priest offering communion.
A flutter in his thoughts. A mental pressure, like a foreign idea trying to settle in. ‘Let it in, for truth never knocks twice.’ His voice ran through his thoughts like a ribbon of silk.
Should I? What if this is some kind of test? A deeper trial, hidden beneath the surface? Aaron gritted his teeth and let the pressure in.
Then he saw. Not images. Not voices. Feelings. Hot wind flayed his skin. Stone split open underfoot. Ink bled across a sky that screamed without sound.
He stumbled through a library with no walls—each book wrote itself in his blood, his thoughts. Threads of thought wound around his limbs—stone, blood, memory.
Then the perfect city, as it shattered. Green fog licked through it like cancer. People froze, were smashed by chains. Crumbled. Screamed. Silenced.
He staggered. The vision vanished. The mountain, the sky, the smells of dung and sweat returned.
‘Helacium, destroyed eighty years ago by an Edict.’ His green eyes met his with an intensity that dissected his soul.
Aaron stared at him, heartbeat thundering in his ears. “That… was real?” Rhea looked between them, her mouth tight.
“He’s strong enough,” the mind mage said simply. Then, to Aaron,“Don’t waste strength on doubt. This world rewards questions—until they’re the wrong kind. You’ve seen a glimpse of the weight behind a Champion’s footsteps.”
He turned to leave, then paused. ‘We will meet again. Soon.’
Aaron stood frozen. His pulse thudded in his ears. His knees barely held. Theon stepped up beside him. “You okay?”
Aaron’s mouth opened. Nothing came. A breath. Then— “No.”
He turned, vision tunneling. Down the slope, the world still spun. Students still pushed their rocks, slaves still watched impassively. All of it... still real.
“What was that?” His voice wasn’t as steady as he would have preferred. The others meet his eyes, as if dazed. Both of them shrugged. I hope this isn’t normal.
They stood together in the sunlight, bruised, tired, but now marked in a different way. Aaron touched his forehead. The spot burned faintly—no mark, but he felt it. I’ve been chosen twice now. By the Watcher. By a mind mage. If there’s a third… I’ll start calling it a conspiracy.
He exhaled, but nothing loosened inside. The vision pulsed at the edge of thought—Helacium falling, green fog thick as guilt. The mage’s presence lingered, coiled in his mind.
Not gone. Just... waiting. He exhaled. But the peace didn’t return.
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