"Jim," Felix said gently, his voice a whisper carried on the stillness of the chamber. He stepped toward the spirit, his arms slightly outstretched, palms open. The boy flinched, shrinking back into the shadows as if expecting to be struck.
Felix stopped. He didn't push. He simply waited, letting the quiet settle like dust on the old stone floor.
"Let's stop fighting," he said, with the soft tone of someone speaking to a frightened animal. "Let's play instead."
The silence was deep. The kind of silence that followed centuries of pain.
Felix smiled—a soft, childlike grin, one not forged through training or courage, but memory. "Hide and seek," he said, tapping his hand lightly to his eyes. "I'm it. One… two… three…"
He covered his eyes with both hands.
Silence.
Then—
Footsteps.
Light. Eager.
A giggle.
Felix peeked. The statue was gone. In its place stood a boy. Not a carving. Not a memory. A child. Small and fragile. His eyes were wide with wonder and fear, and his limbs shimmered faintly as if unsure they belonged to the world.
He darted behind a column.
Felix grinned. "Four… five… six…"
He counted slowly, letting his voice echo off the ancient walls. He heard the boy moving—shuffling behind a pedestal, crawling under a cracked bench, ducking behind an old tapestry.
"Seven… eight… nine… ten! Ready or not, here I come!"
He turned and looked around with exaggerated gestures. "Where could he be? Not here… not there…"
A soft giggle betrayed the hiding spot.
Felix turned dramatically and gasped. "Ah! I found—wait. Where did he go?"
A tiny foot disappeared around a column.
Felix laughed.
And so did Jim.
Laughter. Real, sweet, and free. It echoed across the cold stone, filling the chamber not with magic, but with something stronger—life.
They played for a long time.
Felix let Jim hide. Sometimes he found him quickly. Other times, he took longer, purposefully missing clues so Jim could win. They changed the game—sometimes it was tag, sometimes pretending the floor was lava, sometimes just chasing imaginary beasts across the chamber.
Jim tumbled and rolled, his soot-smeared face lit with joy. His smile was crooked. His hair was a mess. His knees scraped.
He looked like a child again.
Felix fell onto his back at one point, breathing hard and laughing. Jim flopped beside him, chest heaving from excitement.
"You're so good at hiding," Felix praised, ruffling his hair.
Jim beamed.
They sat together against a wall, giggling and catching their breath.
Jim pulled something from the air. A piece of chalk. It glowed faintly in his fingers. He walked to the wall and began to draw.
Not frantic scribbles this time. But careful lines. A sun. A bird. A boy and a taller figure holding hands.
Felix watched, his chest tight.
Jim turned. "That's us."
Felix blinked quickly and nodded. "It's perfect."
Jim hesitated, then walked back and leaned against Felix's side.
Minutes passed. Maybe more. Time had no weight here.
"Did I… do well?" the boy asked, his voice small.
Felix looked down, brushing a smudge of soot from the boy's cheek. "You did amazing."
Jim looked up, eyes glassy. "I didn't want to be alone anymore."
Felix's throat tightened. He pulled the boy close.
"You won't be. I promise. Not ever again."
Jim clung to him.
For the first time, he didn't feel fragile. He felt whole.
A low hum broke the moment.
The great doors at the end of the chamber began to glow. Ancient seals unwound like blooming flowers. Light spilled through the cracks.
Jim looked up, then back at Felix. There was no fear in his eyes this time—only peace.
Felix stood slowly, lifting Jim with him.
The boy looked at the glowing doorway. Then at the drawings. Then back at Felix.
"You made me real again," he whispered.
Felix shook his head gently. "You were always real. You just needed someone to remind you."
Jim smiled.
The boy reached for Felix's hand and gave it one final squeeze.
Then, with quiet steps, he walked toward the light.
At the threshold, he paused and turned.
"Thank you for playing."
The doors opened fully.
And Jim vanished into the light, his form dissolving not in pain, but in joy.
Felix stood in the silence that followed, staring at the space the boy had left behind.
The drawings on the wall shimmered faintly, then stilled.
Felix smiled softly and stepped forward, into the light, carrying with him not just the memory of a battle, but the heart of a child who only wanted to be seen.
And in doing so, he had passed the trial.