CHAPTER 246: THE TRIAL OF MIND

Eleanor drifted aimlessly through the space, unsure of where she was heading. Countless glowing orbs slipped past, left behind in her wake like forgotten stars. She saw many that radiated immense power, but none drew her in. Time felt strange here; she could not tell how much had passed. Yet she remembered Professor Sylpha’s warning... she will get five minutes to choose an orb.

"Nora, how much time has passed?" she asked inwardly.

"Master, time flows more slowly here. My perception is also affected. But I believe it has not yet been five minutes," Nora replied.

Suddenly, Eleanor felt a subtle pull... an almost imperceptible connection was coming from somewhere ahead. She surged forward, chasing the invisible thread. Colourful orbs drifted past her like captive galaxies, each humming with its own unique presence. Some exuded such overwhelming power that she almost abandoned the connection to seize them instead.

She steadied her mind and repeated silently to herself, "do not choose the orb. Let it choose you. Feel for the resonance."

The connection grew stronger with each movement until, at last, she saw it.

Set apart from the radiant constellations of orbs floated a solitary and unassuming sphere. It did not blaze or crackle with violent light like others. Instead, it glowed with a soft pearlescent radiance... like the colour of moonlight on weathered parchment. Within it, there was no outward surge of power, only a swirling nebulous pattern as if a galaxy folded into a single, all-seeing gaze. It felt calm, ancient and wise.

Her hand lifted of its own accord. She reached out with trembling fingers, expecting the cool smoothness of a glass-like surface. But the instant her skin touched the orb, the world around her dissolved into nothingness.

The vault, the orbs, all of it vanished. She stood now in an expanse of featureless white. There was no sound, no scent, no sense of surroundings... only herself.

Suddenly, she heard a voice that seemed to resonate directly within her mind. It was neither male nor female, neither young nor old. It was like the voice of the trial itself.

"The trial begins. To proceed, you must open the door. You have five attempts remaining."

Before her, a simple grey stone door materialised. It stood unadorned, about seven feet tall, framed by a plain archway that opened into a deeper, darker whiteness. There was no lock on the door, but a mechanism could be seen at its center... an intricate geometric puzzle of interlocking rings wrought from a strange, shimmering metal. At its centre lay a hollow, hand-shaped indentation.

Eleanor stepped closer. The puzzle was a marvel of design... dozens of sliding segments and rotating bands, each etched with tiny, unfamiliar symbols that writhed and shifted if she stared too long. It was no trap of brute force but a trial of logic and dexterity. This, at least, was within her reach. She trusted her analytical mind... and if need be, she had Nora.

Time lost its meaning as she worked. At first her fingers fumbled, clumsy with awe, but soon they grew nifty, moving with precision. She slid rings, aligned symbols, and traced pathways of order from chaos. Smaller puzzles revealed themselves, each solved with a click that rang like a promise of progress. At last, with a final and decisive rotation, the last ring slid into place. The mechanism pulsed with a soft blue light.

Triumph surged through her. She pressed her right hand into the indentation... it fit as though the door itself had been waiting for her.

The blue light died. The puzzle collapsed into chaos, resetting to its original form. The door remained closed.

"The trial begins. To proceed, you must open the door. You have four attempts remaining."

The voice was identical to before, cold and indifferent, as though her hours of labour had never been. A prickling unease spread through her. Had she missed any step? She examined the puzzle once more... only to find it reset entirely, every ring and symbol thrown back into disorder.

She tried again. Faster this time, more meticulous. She double-checked each alignment, traced every connection with ruthless care. She even asked for Nora’s help this time. She found a shorter path, a more elegant solution. In half the time of her previous attempt, she had restored the glowing blue light.

She placed her hand in the indentation.

The light died. The puzzle reset again.

"The trial begins. To proceed, you must open the door. You have three attempts remaining."

Frustration, cold and sharp, began to erode her confidence. This doesn’t seem like a puzzle anymore... it was like a trick. Some hidden mechanism and some cruel secrets were mocking her. She abandoned pure logic and tried intuition instead, letting her fingers move without conscious thought. The puzzle unravelled even faster, almost effortlessly. Blue light... Hand placed... Reset.

"The trial begins. To proceed, you must open the door. You have two attempts remaining."

She tried brute force, yanking at the rings with all her strength. They were immovable, unyielding like a mountain. She tried to slip past the archway, to step into the blank beyond, but an invisible wall of force barred her way. She was trapped in this white hell, shackled to a single, unsolvable task.

Panic seeped into her bones. "What do you want from me?" she screamed at the void. But there was no reply... only the silent, mocking presence of the door.

Time lost its meaning to her. Minutes, hours, days... she could no longer tell. She solved the puzzle a hundred times, a thousand in her mind. She found a better way this time. With confidence, she started again. Her fingers moved in a blur, her body knowing the pattern like her heartbeat. This time, the same result: the blue light, the reset, the indifferent voice.

"The trial begins. To proceed, you must open the door. You have one attempt remaining."

She sagged against the stone, her body trembling, her tears carving silent lines down her face. Her Elizabeth bloodline... her brilliant mind... had been broken upon this riddle. What was the point? The puzzle was solvable, yet the door remained closed.

Then Nora’s voice stirred in her mind, soft but confident. "Master, I checked again and again, but there is no solution beyond what you have already done. What if the puzzle itself is the lie?"

Eleanor’s eyes flew open. "What do you mean?"

"What if solving it is not the key, but the lock? What if each time you complete it, you seal the door instead of opening it?"

The thought struck like a blade, cutting through the fog of despair. She replayed the words of the trial in her mind... "You must open the door." Not solve the puzzle. She had assumed the mechanism was the key. She had poured her mind into conquering it, proving her intellect, mastering its patterns.

But she had never once questioned the door itself.

Slowly, she pushed herself upright. Her gaze drifted past the intricate puzzle to the door itself. Plain grey stone. The archway around it looks nothing more than unremarkable masonry. If the puzzle was not a barrier... then it was the distraction. A test of another kind.

"What if the door was never locked?"

Her heart thudded with a wild, fragile hope. The thought was absurd, reckless... yet after all the failures, absurdity was all she had left.

Ignoring the impressive matrix of shifting rings, she reached not for the indentation, but for the rough-hewn edge of the stone door itself. Her palms pressed against the cool surface. With the last of her strength, she pulled a hook.

Nothing!

Despair rose like a tide to drown her again... until a second thought bloomed. She had been trying to prove herself... her brilliance, her strength, her mastery. She had tried to take the prize, to take it from this trial by force of will. But the greatest gifts are not taken. They are given. And to receive, one must first be willing.

She inhaled once, steadying her trembling breath. And then... she pushed the door. It was not a thrust of power, but a gesture of humility. Not conquest, but acceptance.

The door yielded at once, gliding inward without sound.

The elaborate mechanism dissolved into motes of light, scattering like fireflies in the dark. It had never been a lock. It had been a lure... a trap for pride. The true lock had been her own assumption... that every barrier requires a key of complexity. The true key was recognising the barrier’s nature, and approaching it with simplicity.

The anonymous voice spoke one final time, its resonance now touched with the faintest thread of respect. "The trial is complete. You have seen past the problem to grasp the truth. You relinquished the need to conquer, and in surrender, you passed through."

Beyond the threshold, the pearlescent orb awaited her, suspended in the darkness. It no longer surged forward to claim her. It waited, still and serene, as though acknowledging her choice.

Eleanor stepped toward it, her mind clear, her heart steady. This time, her hand did not tremble.

When her fingers brushed its glow, the orb melted into her, not as stone, nor as fire, but as liquid light. It streamed into her brow, flowing into the centre of her mind.