The staircase rose into forever.
Each step shimmered with colors Kaelen couldn't name, folding and unfolding like shards of living glass. The air buzzed with a low hum, the kind of sound that burrows into the bones. Lyra tilted her head back, eyes narrowing at the endless climb. "How far up does it go?"
The candle-bearer's flame flickered nervously. "Up… isn't the right word. Each step is a choice. A loss."
Kaelen frowned. "Loss of what?"
They reached the first stair. As Kaelen's boot touched it, the air rippled. A voice bloomed inside his mind, soft yet merciless:
"Step one. Sacrifice a memory."
Kaelen froze, his grip tightening on the relic. He could feel the voice rooting through his head, pulling forward pieces of himself. His mother's smile. His first flight across the outer colonies. The first time he saw Lyra, firelight in her eyes.
Lyra's jaw clenched. "It's asking us to give something up. Forever."
Kaelen hesitated—but then the knight's twisted face flashed in his mind, and the watchers' endless laughter. He grit his teeth and forced a single memory loose: the sound of his father's voice. It tore away like skin from bone.
He stumbled, gasping, but the stair solidified beneath him.
Lyra placed her foot on the same step. She flinched, eyes wide, then her expression hardened. She stepped forward without a word.
The candle-bearer followed last, their flame trembling violently. A small sob escaped them as the stair accepted their offering.
They climbed.
The second step pulsed, waiting.
"Step two. Sacrifice strength."
Kaelen felt his muscles seize, demanding a price. He forced himself to yield a fraction—his sword arm trembled, weaker than before. Lyra grunted, her breath unsteady as the life bled from her limbs. The candle-bearer nearly collapsed, their body hollowed by the weight of surrender.
They pushed onward.
The third step gleamed like molten gold.
"Step three. Sacrifice trust."
Kaelen's heart pounded. The voice dug into his chest, threading suspicion into his blood. For the first time since the journey began, he felt doubt coil around him when he looked at Lyra. Did she blame him for the wounds? Would she turn, if it meant survival?
Lyra's eyes met his. She was trembling too, as though fighting the same poisoned thoughts. Neither of them spoke, both breathing hard, fighting to hold onto something real.
The watchers above purred in unison, their chorus stretching across infinity:
"Climb, pieces. Climb. The higher you go, the less of you remains."
Kaelen swallowed hard, forcing himself up the next stair, his mind a battlefield. "Then we climb until there's nothing left… and still keep climbing."
Lyra smirked faintly through her strain. "I'll race you to the top."