"Have you brought here only for this?" Max asked softly.
He could feel that she was holding sothing back, sothing hidden behind that gentle smile and those sorrowful blue eyes, but he could not be sure what it was.
A soft smile rose on her lips.
"Perhaps yes, perhaps not. It all depends on whether you can sit on that throne or not."
She softly took his hand, her fingers caressing his with a tenderness that made his eyes lower for a mont.
"Are there any requirents?" Max asked.
He could feel how much his heart was drawn to the throne, but also to her. Both of them pulled at him in different ways. One promised power, authority, and an army of immortal spirits. The other carried beauty, mystery, and a sorrow so deep that even his greed wanted to understand it.
But why would he need to choose? He would simply have both. That was the kind of man Max truly was.
"A heart true to itself," she said as she pulled him closer through the tall hall.
Stone statues covered in vines and leaves stood on both sides, silent and unmoving, like warriors frozen in ti. There were many different species and races here, so Max recognized, and so he had never seen before. Dragons stood with their wings folded behind their backs. Humans held crowns, books, or broken blades. Elves rested their hands over their hearts, their faces calm and sorrowful, while what looked like dwarves stood short and proud with heavy arms crossed over their chests.
There were others too.
Creatures that looked like imps, similar to what Max had seen in fantasy movies, small and sharp-featured, yet their statues carried an odd dignity. Even orcs were here, tall and muscular, their bodies carved with enough detail to make them seem terrifying even in stone. But one of them did not hold a weapon. Instead, the huge orc held a book against his chest, as if knowledge had once mattered more to him than war.
"A heart true to itself..." Max repeated the sentence under his breath.
He could not be sure if his heart was truly honest. Perhaps he had lied to himself too many tis already. Perhaps he had covered greed with ambition, cruelty with necessity, and desire with purpose until even he could no longer tell where one ended and the other began.
But the throne offered power.
And now, more than ever, he needed power desperately.
So even if he doubted himself, even if the requirent sounded like sothing ant to judge him from the inside, Max had no choice but to attempt to grasp it. Otherwise, he would regret not trying for all eternity, until the very day he died.
"Do I simply sit down?" Max asked as they stopped before the throne.
"If you can," Saelunith said softly. "That is the trial. Many have tried to sit on it, but so far, after millions of years, nobody has been able to do so."
"So much for repaying for my work. Feels more like I’ve been scamd," Max muttered, shaking his head as he stepped forward.
The throne felt strange.
It carried a mysterious aura, ancient and heavy, as if it was not simply waiting for a ruler, but judging every soul that dared to approach it. The pressure descended on Max almost imdiately, trying to force his body down, trying to make his knees touch the floor before he could even take another step.
But Max refused to kneel with all of his heart.
Saelunith watched him with a mysterious expression. When he took his first step forward, her hands clenched together, and her whole body tensed as if she was the one walking toward that throne instead of him.
The mont his foot landed, her eyes began to shimr.
"He might be able to do it..." she muttered.
She had seen many attempt this. Even she had once tried to sit on the throne, but nobody had ever been able to take even a single step toward it. To most, the first step alone was already impossible, an achievent she held high in her heart.
Max took another step.
Then another.
Each one was heavier than the last, the air pressing against his shoulders, his chest, his spine, and even his Magic Soul as if the entire citadel had decided to reject him. Still, he moved forward until he was only a single step away from the throne.
A mysterious light shone from high above the ceiling, slipping through a very narrow hole. It was green as jade, shimring like a diamond, casting its glow over the throne and Max’s body at the sa ti.
The pressure imdiately grew at least a thousand tis heavier. His knees buckled and his back bent slightly. For a mont, even his breath was forced out of his lungs.
"Go to hell," Max spat through clenched teeth.
His muscles tightened, veins rising across his neck and arms as he forced his body back up, refusing to let the throne decide his worth for him. That final step took him nearly an hour. One inch after another, he fought the pressure with everything he had, his teeth grinding, his bones trembling, and his pride burning hotter than the pain.
Saelunith took a step back, her eyes suddenly filled with fear. Sothing was pushing her away, little by little, as if Max was now the only person allowed to stand inside this throne room.
She tried to resist it.
But the force pulling her back made her rember a past she had spent ages trying to bury. Her lips trembled, and tears spilled from her eyes, flowing down her cheeks like rivers. Her eyes turned red from grief as she fought to stay, wanting to see this man who looked so similar to her once beloved succeed, as if it was him himself attempting this challenge again.
"Don’t die..." she whispered through her tears, loud enough for Max to hear. "Please... survive it this ti... don’t leave ..."
Sothing pulled at Max’s heartstrings when he heard that sorrow in her voice.
"I will not die!" Max roared, forcing his body to straighten fully before the throne. "I promise you that much!"
He took the final step.
In that instant, Saelunith was thrown backward, flying out from the citadel as if an invisible hand had rejected her completely. The massive door slamd shut before her, sealing the throne room with a sound that shook the entire hall.
And Max was left alone before the throne.
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