Chapter 9 – Trial of the Dawn
The clearing shone with golden radiance as Lysera raised her spear, but she did not strike. Instead, her voice rang like a bell across the silence.
"Power alone is nothing. A god may bend the heavens, yet still fall to pride. Balance is not strength—it is judgment. So, child of rebirth, you will face my trial."
With a sweep of her hand, the world shifted.
---
Eryndor blinked. The forest was gone. The mountains, the sky, even the air itself had dissolved into shimmering light. He now stood within a vast hall of crystal, endless mirrors reflecting his form in every direction. Lysera hovered above him, radiant as the dawn.
"Three trials," she said. "Pass them, and I will recognize you. Fail… and I will end you here, before your power dooms both worlds."
---
The First Trial – Fear
The mirrors around him rippled. From them stepped shadowy figures—wolves, flames, the cold eyes of the gods who once cast him down. Each whispered his failures, each reminded him of betrayal.
Eryndor's breath shook. His knees trembled. For a moment, he was no god, no chosen soul—just a boy.
But then he remembered his foster mother's embrace, his father's laughter, Aethros' steady voice beneath the stars. He raised his hand, light and shadow intertwining in his palm, and the illusions shattered.
Lysera's eyes narrowed, but she nodded slightly. "One trial passed."
---
The Second Trial – Compassion
The mirrors shifted again. This time, Eryndor saw villagers—his family—trapped in chains of fire, crying for help. At their side, a golden blade appeared in his hand.
Lysera's voice echoed: "To save them, you must strike down the one who shackles them."
From the flames stepped Aethros.
Eryndor froze, torn between instinct and doubt. He could not believe it. His mentor—enemy? No. His heart screamed otherwise. Dropping the blade, he reached instead for the fire, channeling his energy not to destroy but to heal.
The chains dissolved. Aethros bowed his head, fading into smoke.
Lysera's lips curved faintly. "Second trial passed."
---
The Third Trial – Balance
The last mirror opened, revealing two paths. One blazed with holy light, warm and endless. The other churned with shadow, deep and powerful.
"Choose," Lysera commanded. "Light or dark. Order or chaos. This is your final trial."
Eryndor stared at both roads. Once, he might have chosen light, to prove he was no monster. Or shadow, to reclaim the power stolen from him. But now, he shook his head.
"I will walk neither path," he said firmly. "Because Balance means both. Without one, the other is meaningless."
Silver radiance burst from his chest, swallowing both paths. The hall of crystal shattered, returning them to the forest clearing.
---
Lysera lowered her spear. For the first time, she smiled. "So it is true. Balance walks again."
But her eyes hardened as she turned toward the distant horizon. "Then know this, child: if you are Balance reborn, the other gods will not stay silent. And the first who comes… will not test you. They will kill you."
Her words hung heavy, like the promise of a storm.