In all too short a time, they breached the wall of ki and moved into the center of the circle.
“I don’t know whether to be worried or impressed,” Graydon said.
What the applicants may not have realized was that there was a purpose behind the circles. By tradition, each one contained a purpose behind its existence.
It went far beyond the difficulty level of breaching their walls. It was once thought the circle chosen today would determine the path of tomorrow.
The higher the resistance, the more difficult the journey would be. It was a way of testing whether someone had the strength needed to walk the path. Many might desire to be an oshota or an Overlord, but few possessed the determination and will to overcome the obstacles that would inevitably rise.
That wasn’t to say that if a person entered a circle that differed from the path they desired that they wouldn’t someday find themselves on that very course, but rather the circle assessed where they stood in the current moment.
Most were only capable of passing the adva ka. To reach higher, more sacrifice and ability would be required.
The circle the wanderer had chosen fit none of these avenues. It was once called the emperor’s path. Though that name had fallen into disuse. Walking it no more guaranteed that you’d become an emperor than the oshota’s path promised you’d become an oshota.
They named it that because of the difficulty level.
For starters, the symbol above would never call that circle’s number, making the wanderer’s method the only way to breach its walls.
“It is an unusual step but in line with their stated goals.”
Despite Torvald’s words, Graydon caught the flex of his fingers on the chair of his throne that said he was deep in thought.
“I hope you’re right,” Graydon said.
Because there was another purpose beyond that of an emperor’s path in that circle.
“We won’t have to hope if she answers the call.” Torvald gestured with his chin at those below as they reached the edge of the walled maze. Devon and Joule started to cross the wide-open space that lay between them and their destination.
Kira dragged them back before they could take more than a step.
She slapped them on the back of their heads while saying something sharp.
Torvald balled a fist and hid his smile behind it as his shoulders shook at the sight of his son being chastised.
“There is still purpose in her current trajectory,” Graydon said. “Time remains for her to answer the call.”
Torvald might be able to see into the truth of things, but Graydon understood people and how they operated.
Kira would do what they needed her to do. She wouldn’t be able to help herself.
“If not, we’ll have to take more drastic measures,” Torvald’s voice was grim.
Graydon hoped it didn’t come to that.
“Why are you stopping me?” Devon asked, sounding frustrated.
The look Kira leveled on him was chock full of patience.
It was the expression she’d perfected when dealing with stubborn soldiers who refused to recognize that someone as young looking as her knew what she was talking about.
A little patronizing. A little sympathetic. It usually drove people mad—but it did make them listen.
“Because you’re being stupid, and I don’t want you dragging the rest of us down with you.”
Devon glared at Kira after those words. “The symbol is changing.”
“But it hasn’t changed yet.”
