The winds that whispered through Hollowroot Vale shifted.
They no longer carried mystery or memory. They carried weight. Pressure. As if the very forest were holding its breath.
Kael stood in the clearing once more, soaked from the Trial of the Mind, his legs unsteady, heart heavy from the truths he had seen.
Elenor held him up, but she could already tell—he was different now. His eyes still glowed faintly, but there was something else in them. Something older. Something… burdened.
"The second trial begins at dusk," the silver-eyed Watcher said, her voice echoing around the clearing. "And dusk is nearly upon us."
Kael turned toward the center of the vale, where a circle of jagged black stones now rose from the ground like spears—stones that hadn't been there before.
As the last of the sun vanished behind the trees, the stones shimmered—and opened like a gate of lightless void.
Kael stepped forward. Elenor reached for his arm.
"Wait. What if this one's different?"
Kael gave a faint, sad smile. "It has to be. The first one showed me where I came from. This one… I think it's going to show me who I really am."
Without waiting for permission, he stepped into the dark gate.
—
Inside the Trial
The void swallowed him.
Not like the sky from before. This was different. It wasn't absence—it was presence. The air was thick, not with fog or energy, but with emotion. Every step Kael took felt like walking through memories wrapped in thorns.
Then the world snapped into form.
He stood in a village square, but it wasn't Dernmere. It was burning.
People ran screaming. Smoke choked the air. A child cried nearby.
Kael turned and saw—himself—but younger. Six, maybe seven. Holding a stick like a sword, swinging wildly at shadows.
Then something monstrous emerged.
Not a beast. A man-shaped figure made of smoke, its face a twisting mask of pain.
The villagers didn't see it. But Kael did. And so did the younger version of him.
The child screamed. No one helped. Everyone ran.
Kael wanted to shout, to intervene—but the Watcher's voice whispered in his mind:
"You cannot change the past. But you must face the choices you made."
Suddenly, the scene froze.
Kael stood in front of the younger version of himself, both trapped between flame and fear.
Then a figure stepped out from the smoke.
A tall man. Dressed in black robes. Eyes glowing like embers.
Kael recognized him from his visions—the man by the black pool. The one who was watching him from afar.
"You still don't understand, do you?" the man said calmly.
Kael clenched his fists. "You're not part of the trial."
The man chuckled. "Oh, but I am. In ways you haven't begun to grasp."
He circled Kael like a predator.
"The Trial of the Spirit… is not a test of fear. It's a test of pain. Of loss. And what you'll do when you're forced to choose."
He snapped his fingers.
Suddenly, Kael was no longer in the burning square.
He stood in a stone chamber.
Chains bound his wrists. His feet were soaked in water. A woman sat across from him.
Elenor.
Her eyes wide. Gagged. Tied to a chair.
The man appeared between them.
"One choice," he said, voice like steel. "Call the storm now. Break the chains. Save her. But lose control."
Kael's pendant flared on its own.
"You're bluffing."
The man said nothing.
Then a second option appeared—another room, this one with Thomelin, bleeding and chained against a wall.
Kael's body shook.
"What is this?" he shouted.
"The test."
The black-robed man snapped his fingers again.
"You may save only one."
Kael's mark flared like fire. The chamber trembled. His body ached—his spirit screamed.
"No," he muttered, falling to his knees. "This isn't real. You're not real. I won't choose."
The man's voice thundered. "Then they both die."
Lightning surged through the chains. Elenor screamed through the gag.
Kael's heart shattered.
Think. Feel. Choose.
The pain built—every doubt, every fear, every memory of being helpless surged inside him.
Then—
Something broke.
His eyes snapped open, glowing brighter than ever. But this time, they were not alone. Behind them, something deeper stirred. Like a storm rising from within.
He raised his hands, chains snapping like twigs.
The storm did not explode outward—it flowed inward.
He walked toward the black-robed man, who stepped back in confusion.
"You're not my fear," Kael said. "You're my doubt. My guilt. My weakness."
With one breath, Kael spoke a word he didn't know he knew:
"Vetra'Kaen."
The chamber shattered.
The illusions burned away.
—
Back in the Vale
Kael fell forward onto the ground, gasping.
The black stones had vanished. The mark on his hand now had two rings, glowing in rhythm with his heartbeat.
The Watcher stood over him.
"You did not choose… and yet, you passed."
Kael coughed, still trembling. "It was a lie. A trick. I won't be broken by fear anymore."
From the trees, Elenor ran to him, falling to her knees.
"You're okay," she said, hugging him tightly.
He nodded, barely able to speak. "One more."
Elenor looked at the sky.
Storm clouds gathered, heavy and fast.
The Trial of the Storm was coming.
And it would not be kind.