The Trial of Shadows
Raghu had spent the better part of three days navigating the Pit, surviving attacks, and growing in sync with the falchion. As the third day finished a chime echoed " Congratulations on surviving 3 days in pit, choose if you want to continue with this trail or quit and you will be transferred back ". This had Raghu thinking hard, This ground had proved to be boon where he could training with his new mate. It was deadly situation but he was starting to get the hang of it. He thought for a while, and decided to give it a shot.
The chime in his mind echoed again: "Survive the Trial of Shadows. Those who fail become one with the darkness." The words sent a chill down his spine, but he squared his shoulders and advanced.
As the first glow of dawn crept into the jagged horizon, he noticed a change in the terrain. The acidic soil had become darker, almost black, and the stone walls seemed sharper, more menacing. The air itself felt heavier, as if charged with an unknown energy that vibrated through his bones. He could feel the falchion thrumming faintly in his grip, a silent signal that the next challenge had begun.
The moment he took a cautious step forward, shadows emerged. They weren't natural shadows cast by rocks or moonlight; these flowed as if alive, their fluid forms slithered across the ground, some stretching unnaturally high, others curling into shapes that defied geometry.
The first wave of shadow creatures lunged simultaneously. Raghu had no room for hesitation. The falchion, now partially attuned to his instincts, guided his movements. He slashed horizontally, the blade slicing through the amorphous darkness. The moment his weapon connected, the shadows dissipated with a soft hiss, only to reform moments later in a new shape. It became clear to him that brute force alone would not suffice. These entities adapted. They mirrored his attacks, shifted their forms, and sought openings in his defense.
Raghu realized that the shadows weren't merely physical—they were a test of perception. Some moved faster than the eye could follow, while others tried to manipulate his sense of space. A large shadow formed a humanoid figure and mirrored his stance exactly, moving like his own reflection. When he tried to step forward, it mirrored every action perfectly, blocking his path. He experimented with feints, partial swings, and false retreats, learning that unpredictability was key. The falchion seemed to understand, flowing in harmony with his intentions, allowing him to exploit micro-gaps in the shadow's form.
Hours passed in this relentless dance of attack and evasion. The shadows multiplied, creating corridors of darkness, looping back on themselves, forming labyrinths that distorted his perception of distance and direction. Raghu relied heavily on the falchion, now almost a part of his nervous system. Its guidance was subtle—nudging his arm, adjusting the trajectory of his swings, stabilizing his balance in ways he couldn't consciously control. By noon, he had begun to map the flow of shadows, noticing patterns in their movements, and recognizing which forms would appear in response to his actions.
The Trial of Shadows introduced a new element: mirrors. Not literal mirrors, but reflective surfaces that projected alternate versions of Raghu himself. At first, he mistook them for hallucinations, but the falchion vibrated, alerting him to their presence. Each mirrored self tried to engage him, attacking with his own gestures but slightly delayed, testing his reactions. Raghu learned quickly: attacking a mirrored self could harm the shadow itself, but overcommitting left him vulnerable. He had to maintain a balance between aggression and caution, intuition and logic.
By late afternoon, Raghu's body was battered, but his mind sharpened. He discovered that the shadows had hierarchies—some were basic, reactive forms, while others were sentient, capable of anticipating his strategy. The humanoid shadows, in particular, were cunning. They would feign attacks, force him into defensive stances, then strike in unexpected directions. Raghu realized that the key to survival was not merely physical prowess, but mental prowess. He began to predict their movements, baiting them into overextending, and then countering with precise, minimal-effort strikes.
The falchion, ever responsive, began to resonate with his mental commands as well as his physical ones. When Raghu visualized a strike in his mind before executing it, the weapon adjusted mid-air to align perfectly with his intent. The synergy was growing, and with it came confidence. For the first time in the Pit, Raghu felt a sense of mastery—not over the shadows themselves, but over the flow of battle, the rhythm of survival.
Night fell, and the shadows became more aggressive, stretching across the entire arena of the Pit, obscuring natural light. Yet Raghu remained focused. He had discovered a hidden skill: by channeling his energy into the falchion, he could momentarily illuminate the shadows, causing them to recoil or freeze. It was taxing, draining both his stamina and mental concentration, but it provided critical windows of opportunity to reposition and strategize. He dubbed it the "pulse of clarity," a temporary reprieve in the otherwise overwhelming darkness.
By the third day's dawn, Raghu had adapted fully. The shadows no longer intimidated him; they tested him, yes, but he now anticipated their shifts. He danced through the Pit, a whirlwind of violet aura and crimson falchion strikes, neutralizing shadows efficiently, learning from every attack. The falchion had begun to change as well. Its edges glimmered faintly with energy drawn from the shadows it had destroyed, and its movements grew more fluid, almost sentient in their execution.
Finally, as the timer in his halo watch neared completion, the shadows began to dissipate. The dense, oppressive darkness lifted gradually, revealing the Pit in its raw, jagged grandeur. Raghu's body was exhausted, battered with minor cuts and bruises, but his spirit was unbroken. The falchion pulsed once, strongly, as if acknowledging his triumph. A chime resonated in his mind: "Trial complete. Rank and title awarded. Doom credits credited to your account." Relief and pride surged through him.
The Trial of Shadows had not just tested his physical endurance—it had refined his strategy, honed his instincts, and deepened the connection with his falchion. Raghu realized the Pit was more than a battlefield; it was a crucible designed to forge warriors, to teach mastery over self, weapon, and environment. As he stood at the center of the Pit, the first rays of sunlight breaking over the horizon, he knew he had emerged not merely as a survivor, but as a candidate worthy of the challenges yet to come.
Each wave of adversity was a lesson, each small victory a step closer to ultimate mastery. The Trial of Shadows was complete—but Raghu's journey was only beginning.