Chapter 318: The Creator
Liam regarded the being for several seconds.
The golden chamber remained unnervingly still around them, ancient runes suspended along the walls in layers of light that appeared almost readable until he focused too closely. His own ether felt cleaner than it had in months, the absence of Felix’s foreign wavelength leaving his channels strangely light.
There was, however, a more immediate problem.
"What is your name?"
The being blinked, then smiled with a grin that sent shivers down his spine.
"Liam Sienna Canmore."
Liam’s expression went flat.
"That is my name."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
The being tilted its head, studying him with its own face.
Then its golden eyes brightened with recognition.
"Ah. My mistake." It waved one hand carelessly. "Liam Sienna Ravenwood."
Liam stared.
That was the name he had chosen in Nuria.
He had made the decision quietly when the imperial household began preparing his formal records. Canmore had followed him through Wrohan because it had been legally his, but Liam had no particular interest in carrying Felix’s name into another empire.
There was no reason to complicate their lives later, especially since Felix was the betrayer who brought down one of Nuria’s most beloved rulers and his family.
Very few people outside the household administration had reason to know yet.
Liam folded his arms.
"You are remarkably bad at answering simple questions."
"I answered." The being huffed like he could breathe. Liam wasn’t sure if he was truly breathing, and the medium was strange, to say the least.
"You gave me my own name."
"Yes."
"That is not useful."
The being looked delighted by his irritation.
Liam abandoned the issue for the moment.
"Can I choose whether I finish Felix’s Trial?"
A shrug.
Of course.
Liam closed his eyes briefly, trying to calm himself down before doing or saying something he would regret later.
When he opened them again, the being was still watching him with the serene amusement of something that apparently had no deadlines, no wedding in three months, and no extremely possessive mate currently somewhere outside wondering why their bond had become difficult to read.
"I need an actual answer."
"I know."
"And?"
Another shrug.
Liam exhaled slowly.
Fine.
If direct interrogation failed, he would approach the problem properly.
He turned away.
The Trial had rules.
Everything did.
Even if the rules changed between candidates, there had to be a stable architecture beneath them. Something defined who could enter, what constituted failure, what allowed someone to leave, and why successful participants gained access to power ordinary ether users could not reproduce.
The Trial had been created by a male-dominant omega carrying dragon blood.
That much was documented.
Very little else was.
Liam walked toward the nearest wall, studying the runes floating beneath its hazy surface.
The creator had survived direct exposure to a level of ether ordinary channels could not withstand. Later generations had apparently built the Trial around whatever he had accomplished.
Except that description bothered Liam now.
Built around it how?
Who had recorded the first event?
Who had converted one person’s experience into a repeatable mechanism?
And more importantly—
"What happened to the creator?"
Behind him, the being said nothing.
Liam hardly noticed.
His thoughts had accelerated.
If the Trial bound victorious souls to the Core, then its creator had presumably been the first successful subject.
Goliath’s soul had remained attached to Nuria strongly enough to return generations later.
Damian’s soul was now similarly bound to Agaron’s Core.
So what happened to the person who established the mechanism in the first place?
Liam paced slowly along the curve of the chamber, one hand brushing absently over his engagement ring.
"His soul should have been bound somewhere."
The being’s smile widened while following his line of thoughts.
Liam continued speaking to himself.
"Unless the original system worked differently. But if later Trials reproduce the same binding architecture, then the first instance probably established the model."
He stopped.
The runes flowed downward beside him.
"What if he never actually left?"
A quiet chuckle came from behind him.
Liam glanced over his shoulder.
The being looked delighted, his arms at his back and just a few paces behind him.
"Am I entertaining you again?"
"Immensely."
"I am trying to understand how this works."
"Yes. Out loud."
"That helps."
"I know."
Liam frowned and turned fully toward it.
"So?"
"So what?"
"The creator."
The being wandered closer, hands still clasped behind its back.
"What if his soul stayed attached to the Trial?"
"That would be logical."
Liam narrowed his eyes as the being answered too easily.
"But?"
The being rocked slightly onto its heels.
"He left."
Liam’s attention sharpened.
"Left where?"
"Outside."
"How?"
The being smiled expecting something.
Liam waited.
Nothing.
He sighed. "You have had centuries to develop communication skills."
"And yet here we are."
"When did he leave?"
"That question is more interesting."
The golden runes along the walls began moving again, drifting upward in slow streams.
"For a very long time, the creator remained where he belonged. Not exactly here. Not exactly inside the Core either. Humans insist on spatial language for things that are not particularly spatial."
Liam ignored the philosophical irritation.
"Then something changed."
"Yes."
"What?"
"A candidate ran."
Felix.
Liam’s expression hardened.
The being’s smile returned.
"Your grandfather was very determined to escape."
"He appears to have made that everyone’s problem."
"More than you know."
Liam stepped closer. "You said the corrupted wavelength inside me was the part of Felix that ran from the Trial."
"Yes."
"So Felix carried something out."
The being’s expression became almost playful.
"Or someone."
Liam went still.
For a moment, even the shifting chamber seemed quieter.
"The creator?"
The being chuckled.
"The soul left for a while."
Liam stared at it.
"How?"
"You already described the principle rather well."
"I did?"
"Yes."
The being lifted one hand and made a small motion toward Liam, almost as though presenting him with his own argument.
"He hitched a ride."
Liam’s eyes narrowed.
"Through Felix."
The being laughed.
"Exactly."