The other side of Reincarnation

　I stood at the barrier’s edge for a solid five minutes before actually doing anything, which I want on record, because bravery apparently looks a lot like standing very still while internally screaming.

Okay. Okay. You’ve fought Church knights. You’ve fought a genuinely stronger dragon and survived. You can do this.

You can absolutely do this.

...You’re still standing here. Do the thing.

　I reached out, carefully, feeling along the barrier’s ancient structure the same way I had months earlier――and this time, instead of retreating immediately, I actually let myself press against it, testing its weight properly for the first time.

　It resisted, dense and unyielding, and I felt, underneath that resistance, something that made me pause entirely.

This isn’t just old. This is deliberate, in a way that feels considerably more calculated than my own barrier ever was. Whoever built this understood exactly what they were containing, and built accordingly.

　Anti-Subconsciousness’s voice was careful, measured.

Meaning I’m not actually ready yet. Even after everything Ignivar’s put me through.

　”How much stronger would I need to be,” I asked, quiet, ”to do this properly. Safely.”

　I sat with that a long while, hand still resting against the barrier’s cold, ancient surface, turning the decision over properly instead of letting momentum carry me somewhere I might not be able to walk back from.

I already made this mistake once, rushing toward something I wasn’t ready for.

Fenrik and Doran paid for that impatience, in a different shape.

I don’t want to make a version of that mistake again, just because I finally worked up the nerve to actually try.

　”Whatever’s in there,” I said, out loud, mostly to myself, ”has waited this long. It can wait a while longer. Until I’m actually ready, instead of just brave enough to be foolish about it.”

　There was something like approval in Anti-Subconsciousness’s usual flat delivery.

　I pulled my hand back, the barrier settling into its familiar, patient stillness, whatever secret it held remaining exactly that――a secret, for now, rather than a confrontation I wasn’t actually equipped to survive.

Someday.

Not today.

Maybe not even this year.

But someday, once I’ve actually closed the gap between what I am now and whatever this barrier’s actually built to contain.

　I walked back toward Horizoncrest slower than I’d walked out, the tension of the morning easing into something calmer, steadier――not the relief of having faced something and won, but the quieter, harder-earned satisfaction of having faced something and chosen patience instead.

Ignivar would probably approve of that choice, actually.

Restraint teaching more than domination, same as he’s always said.

　Anti-Subconsciousness confirmed, and I got the distinct impression, walking back toward the town’s familiar lights, that it approved too.

Good.

One mystery, staying a mystery a while longer.

I think I can live with that.