Chapter One

Unknown Location

“Hello?”
Zanna’s voice rippled down the darkened hallway, swallowed by the walls before it could return to her. The air reeked—thick, putrid, invasive. Every breath brought the stench deeper into her lungs. She fought the urge to wretch.
Rust-colored sludge oozed in slow rivulets down the walls on either side. Curiosity—or compulsion—drew her closer and she trailed a finger through the warm slime, lifting it to her nose. The smell hit her like a physical blow. She recoiled, shaking her head.
This is definitely the source of the smell… but what is it?
“Hello? Is anyone here?” she called, flicking the goo from her fingers. No answer.
She moved forward, counting her steps, careful not to brush against the filthy walls. A soft white glow lit the space around her, casting her elongated shadow across the floor. She glanced around, puzzled. There was no lamp, no light panel, no visible source of illumination.
She stopped. The light stopped.
Holding her breath, she listened. No hum of generators. No faint whine of a power surge. She took two steps back; the light shifted with her. Still nothing but silence. She walked forward again, and the light followed.
Is this another mental projection? she wondered.
She closed her eyes and pictured herself beneath the Grand Atrium on the Durran platform above Taniem. She imagined the intricate stained-glass sculptures soaring into the sky, the apex glittering in fractured light. The manicured green hedges were arranged in perfect geometric patterns. The copses of lush capoli trees, heavy with ripe fruit, spread as far as the eye could see. It was her favorite place—beautiful, peaceful, safe.
She opened her eyes, but the stinking, drab corridor was still there, stretching ahead into the darkness. She sighed, wondering what she was meant to do here—wherever here was.
“Is anyone here?” she tried again.
“Are you going to keep screaming for all eternity?” a voice called from deeper down the hall.
The voice, sudden and close, cut through her. Her fingers twitched. Her heart pounded. She squinted into the dark, trying to find the speaker, but the blackness held firm.
“Come closer,” the voice urged. “Bring that light of yours.”
She swallowed, then took a few tentative steps forward. She’d lost count of her paces, but it no longer mattered. Something was drawing her nearer.
“That’s it,” the voice encouraged. “Just a bit closer.”
Goosebumps prickled her tongue—a strange, metallic taste rising in her mouth. She licked her dry lips and edged forward… slowly.
A misty hand shot out from the darkness into the light, clamping around her wrist. She yelped, jerking back, but the grip tightened. It pulled her forward until the light revealed a familiar face. Though shrouded in haze, the resemblance was unmistakable: the smooth, broad forehead; the slender nose; the thin lips framed by deep dimples.
“Zarath?” she breathed, her panic giving way to astonishment.
The young Cortaran stared back, brows furrowed, still holding her wrist. “What is a… Zarath?” he asked.
“You’re Zarath,” she said, bewildered. “That’s your name.”
His confusion deepened. “We are Zurin.”
Zurin? Why would he believe he’s Zurin?
“No, you’re Zarath Jornical,” she insisted. “We’re friends. We attended the Potentials Academy together, remember? We took the Great Journey into Regalus together.”
He studied her as though she were some odd creature newly stumbled upon. No recognition lit his face.
“You seek guidance, yes?” he asked at last, releasing her.
She nodded eagerly. “Yes. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Zurin—I mean, someone—told me I needed to ascend to fulfill my destiny, but I don’t know how.”
A faint trace of compassion softened his gaze. “Follow me. And keep your light close.”
As he led her down the hallway, she took stock of him. Like his face, his entire body was shrouded in mist—there and not there all at once. He wore a belted, full-length tunic, his bare feet silent on the floor.
It was Zarath. And yet… not. His eyes lacked the wonder they had once brimmed with. Even his gait was different. The Zarath she knew had a slight hunch to his shoulders; this boy’s posture was rigid, perfect.
“What’s the smelly stuff on the walls?” she asked.
“Evil,” he said simply.
She glanced at the nearest wall and shuddered at the memory of touching the foul substance.
She decided not to push for more details. “Are we still inside Regalus?”
“I suppose we are… in a manner of speaking.”
A familiar frustration stirred in her chest. Zurin had always answered her questions like this, in cryptic riddles, never giving her a solid answer.
“How long do you think you’ve been here?” she tried. “Did you know years have passed since we entered Regalus?”
“Time is not relevant here,” he said flatly.
She exhaled and gave up questioning him. Her light spread further ahead now, revealing a door at the corridor’s end. Sludge dripped thickly down its rotting, discolored wooden frame.
Zarath reached for the tarnished handle. The slime seeped through his hand as if he were smoke.
“When you step through,” he told her, “you will see things… terrible things.”
A chill crept up her spine. “What am I supposed to make of these… things?”
“We do not know. But if you are who we believe you to be, then it will be you who tells us their meaning.”
She studied the door for several heartbeats, then nodded. “Okay then. I’m ready.”
He twisted the handle. The hinges groaned as the door swung open, revealing the yawning expanse of a purple void.
She recoiled. “I… I’m not going in there.”
“But you must,” Zarath said.
“The last time I was in that place, I lost myself. My body, my memories—taken. I can’t go back to that.”
“You are beyond that now,” he said, expression unreadable. “Your body and memories are yours to keep. In exchange, you agreed to endure the change.”
Her mind flashed to the bargain she’d made with Zurin—one she’d never truly chosen yet still felt bound to honor. She thought of herself in the pod before entering Regalus, clinging to one vow: I will be the first to return from Regalus.
She stepped to the threshold and looked at him. For a moment, she thought she saw the faintest flicker of hope deep within his unsettling eyes. She smiled.
Then she stepped forward—into the purple nothingness.