The stars had begun to dim — not with dawn, but with distance. Kael noticed it first, sitting with El beneath the crumbling training wall. The moons above were full.The silence between them even fuller. She was still cloaked, but her voice had softened. Less like a warning, more like a memory shared.
"You asked who we are," El said."I still don't know. But I can tell you what I felt when I started becoming… whatever this is."
Kael leaned in, not speaking.
"It wasn't power. It wasn't clarity. It was heaviness.""Like carrying a thousand lives I never lived."
She looked down at her hands.
"And every time I touched that weight… I saw things. Threads of decisions. Forks in moments that no longer exist."
"Some people awaken strength.""Others awaken consequences."
Kael frowned. "What about you?"
El smiled — not warmly. Almost apologetically.
"I awaken hesitation. The kind that makes you wonder if striking the enemy might hurt you more than the wound could."
"That's why I came to you. You don't feel like a blade. You feel like a mirror."
Kael didn't answer. Not because he didn't want to — but because a part of him was terrified she might be right. A horn rang. Three sharp notes. One long, guttural call. El stiffened. Her face hardened.
"They're calling the first inner-trial."
Kael stood.
"Will I see you again?"
El hesitated.
"If you survive."
And then she vanished into shadow — faster than Kael expected. Not from power. From practice
They called it a "mental refinement." But it looked like a slaughterhouse. Ten chosen candidates stood before a black tunnel carved into the mountain behind the training grounds. No lights. No torches. Only breathless dark.
"You will walk alone," said the instructor, voice hollow."The weak will panic. The strong will fracture. And if your soul begins to scream—"
She smiled cruelly.
"—we'll hear it."
Kael's footsteps echoed louder than they should have. The stone pulsed faintly with warmth — not comfort, but heat, like something watching from inside the walls. Then came the illusions. Not images — feelings. A memory that wasn't his. His brother, bleeding on a floor Kael didn't recognize. A mother calling his name, though his real mother never spoke that way.
"What is this…?" Kael whispered.
No reply. Only more weight. His breath shortened.
"I'm not them. I'm not their mistakes."
But the tunnel wasn't punishing him. It was measuring him — pushing feelings through him like wind through leaves. He stumbled. Fell to one knee.
"This is wrong."
But something stirred beneath his skin. Not power. Not aura. Stillness. Not peace — but the clarity of a still pond before a storm. Kael stood.
"I am not afraid of a life I didn't live."
And the tunnel… ended. He stepped out, alone, to find three had not returned. The rest stood shaking, panting, pale.
Kael?He just looked up.
The moons had returned.