I woke to a faint, strange sound threading through the barracks—a low hum mixed with the scrape of something sharp against stone. It was just before dawn, and the dim light through the narrow window cast long shadows across the room. The others in Squad Four stirred too, rubbing sleep from their eyes, ears twitching at the same noise.
No one had said a word about this. No orders. No warnings. Just the sound, persistent and unnatural, creeping closer.
Riken was the first fully awake. He sat up with a grunt and flicked a blade-length shadow with his fingers. "What the hell is that?"
Vell's eyes snapped open, calm but alert. "Trouble."
Danya, still half-asleep, was already reaching for her spear. Brayden fumbled for his short sword, knocking it clumsily against the wooden floor.
I sat up, my heart ticking faster. That scrape—metal on stone? But no guards were patrolling, or at least none we'd heard.
Before we could decide what to do, the sound stopped. Silence dropped like a heavy cloak.
Then a faint metallic clink echoed from the far corner of our room—the supply locker where our gear was stored. All eyes turned there.
Riken whispered, "Someone's messing with our stuff."
"Could be an animal," Vell said, voice low. "Rats or worse."
I rose slowly, feeling the weight of my sword at my side. "Let's check it out."
The others nodded, muscles taut. This wasn't something we'd trained for, but it was a test of what we had—our wits, our senses, our teamwork.
We crept toward the locker. Riken reached it first and yanked it open. Inside, the satchels were untouched. But beneath them lay a rolled parchment, sealed with the Empire's sigil.
I grabbed it and broke the wax. The message was brief:
"Solve the riddle before you are caught. Fail, and the consequences will fall on your squad."
No signature.
"No instructions," Brayden muttered.
"No time," I said. "Let's find the source of the sound."
We moved as one, the squad spreading out through the cramped barracks, searching every shadowed corner. The building was silent except for our careful steps and occasional whispers.
Then, from the hallway outside, a faint glow pulsed—a dull blue light flickering between the cracks under the doors.
Riken moved to the nearest door, listening. "It's coming from the storage hall."
We gathered there, hands on hilts, eyes sharp. The door was locked, but with a quick strike from Brayden's shoulder, it creaked open.
Inside, the air was thick and cold, smelling faintly of damp earth. The blue light was brighter now, shimmering in a circle on the floor near the back wall.
Vell knelt to inspect it. "Some kind of marking... magical, maybe? But it's not active."
"Then what?" Brayden asked, frowning.
I crouched beside Vell and traced the outline. It looked like an incomplete rune—a circle broken by three jagged lines. It wasn't something we had seen in our lessons.
Suddenly, the floor beneath us shifted—a section of stone slid open, revealing a narrow passage spiraling downward.
"Trap?" Riken asked, eyes gleaming.
"Or a test," I said.
Without hesitation, we descended.
The tunnel was tight, cold, and damp. The blue light pulsed steadily ahead, guiding us.
At the bottom, the passage opened into a chamber, rough-hewn from stone. In the center stood a pedestal, and on it, a simple wooden box carved with the same broken rune.
Riken bent to open it.
Inside was a small, plain puzzle: interlocking pieces of wood, worn smooth by use. No instructions, just the pieces.
A challenge. We had to work together, use our minds and instincts.
Brayden sighed. "A puzzle. Just what we needed."
Danya stepped forward, her gaze steady. "Focus."
We spread out the pieces on the stone floor, working in silence. Our usual banter faded into quiet concentration.
Minutes passed. Fingers moved with growing confidence, shifting, turning, testing fits. The pieces began to form a shape—an abstract symbol, but with order and flow.
Riken, surprisingly patient, took the lead. "Here try this."
Together, we fit the last piece in place.
The box clicked.
The blue light flared brightly, then vanished.
For a moment, silence filled the chamber.
Then, from the shadows, a voice spoke—soft but clear.
"Well done, Squad Four."
Vaelen stepped into the light, robes flowing, eyes calm but sharp.
"We've been watching."
"You didn't tell us about this," I said, heart still pounding.
"Tests come in many forms," he said with a faint smile. "You have learned much more than expected. You have learned to trust, to think, and to move as one."
Riken cracked a grin. "Guess all that joking and tripping over ourselves wasn't a total waste."
Vaelen's eyes twinkled. "Don't let it go to your heads."
He stepped forward and handed me a small scroll, embossed with the Empire's mark.
"This is your next lesson. Not all magic is a flame or a bolt. Sometimes, it's a sound—something to listen for, even in the darkest places."
Vell took the scroll next, her fingers brushing over the ink.
"For now, rest. Tomorrow, we begin the next step."
We nodded, still catching our breath.
Back in our quarters, the usual camaraderie returned, light and easy.
Brayden flopped onto his cot, grinning. "So, what now? More puzzles? Invisible monsters?"
Riken laughed, swinging his sword playfully. "At least it wasn't a real monster this time."
Danya finally cracked a small smile, shaking her head.
I looked around at the squad—worn, tired, but unbroken.
Magic or not, we were starting to become something more.
Soldiers.
Together.