Dawn never truly came to the Maw. The sun's light was a pale gray smear above the horizon, like a distant promise that had long been forgotten. The Ironwild Legion woke in silence, breaking camp with a grim resolve that had no need for trumpets or commands. Every soldier knew the weight of the day.
Duncan led from the front, flanked by Kaelen and Alra, with the scout teams forming a loose vanguard ahead. The trail was narrowing. Trees gave way to frost-slick stone, and eventually, to ruins — ancient and massive, half-swallowed by the earth.
Massive pillars jutted from the ice like broken teeth, remnants of a forgotten civilization. Inscriptions curled around them in spiraling patterns, etched so deeply that they still shimmered faintly despite the erosion of time. The ground beneath their feet was no longer natural terrain, but crafted stone — a road buried beneath a millennium of snow.
Alra's voice was hushed. "We've entered something's domain. This was a city once… maybe even a capital."
Duncan paused before a half-collapsed archway. High above, embedded in the keystone, was a symbol he recognized from the shard — a triangle of interlocking fangs surrounding a flame.
Kaelen squinted. "I don't like it. Feels like we're walking into a court and we're the ones on trial."
As if summoned by his words, a gust of wind blew through the ruins, sharp as razors. It carried a voice — not a whisper this time, but a resonance, like a thousand tongues echoing the same sentence in perfect unison.
"The Blood-Tide returns. Judgment begins."
The legion froze.
Dozens of soldiers instinctively reached for weapons. Duncan stepped forward instead.
"Show yourself," he called. "If you're watching, speak plainly."
Silence answered him.
Then, in the center of the plaza, a circle of ice cracked open. Six figures rose from the ground — not walking, but levitating. Cloaked in robes of frost and steel, they bore no faces, only bone masks shaped like beasts: stag, serpent, wolf, raven, lion, and bear.
Alra gasped. "The Frozen Tribunal."
Duncan's grip tightened on his spear. "You know them?"
"They were said to be the last judges of the Old World — war-mages who bound the gates to the abyss with their souls. They shouldn't exist anymore. They were… legends."
Kaelen scoffed. "We've killed legends before."
"No," Alra said softly. "You don't kill these."
The bear-masked figure stepped forward, voice hollow and deep.
"You bear the shard of the Forerunner. You walk a path of blood. What claim do you make in the name of the Dominion?"
Duncan didn't flinch. "No claim. Only a mission — to end the corruption poisoning the north and to carve a future from the bones of tyrants."
The raven mask tilted. "Yet you awaken what should sleep."
The stag chimed in. "You feed the flame of the Deep."
"I didn't ask for the shard," Duncan said. "But I won't be its pawn. I'll use what I must to crush what threatens my people."
The wolf mask laughed — a dry, cruel sound. "Many before you have said the same. None returned."
Duncan stepped closer. "I don't plan to return. I plan to win."
The tribunal fell into silence. Then the lion spoke.
"Then be judged by fire and frost. Pass our trial, or be forgotten like the rest."
The stone plaza began to quake.
Cracks webbed outward from the center. The earth fell away — not into a pit, but into a chamber of light, descending like a stage into a circular coliseum. Snow fell like ash from above, and a roar echoed from deep within.
A single beast emerged.
Towering, with crystalline fur and eyes like molten gold, it had three heads — bear, lion, and stag — each snarling in perfect synchronicity. Around its limbs, runes pulsed with ancient power. It was not natural. Not tamed.
A relic.
Alra's voice trembled. "That's a Trialbeast. A fusion of old magic and wild essence. It's not meant to live—only to judge."
Duncan stepped into the ring alone.
Kaelen started to follow, but Duncan raised a hand. "No. This is my trial."
The moment his boots touched the ground, the Tribunal vanished. The coliseum shimmered, warping like glass, and the beast charged.
Duncan hurled his spear — it struck the stag head, cracking an antler, but barely slowed it. The bear head roared, breathing a blast of freezing air. Duncan rolled behind a broken column, feeling the frost cling to his armor, his skin burning.
He drew both swords — Emberfang in one hand, and the pale blade in the other.
The beast circled.
Duncan waited.
When it leapt again, he sprang beneath it, slashing across its belly. Sparks flew. He twisted, planting Emberfang deep into the lion's throat. The blade flared — fire erupted, but the lion head bit down on the hilt, snapping the weapon in half.
Duncan staggered.
The Trialbeast struck with a paw the size of a shield, sending him tumbling across the stone. Blood filled his mouth. The world tilted.
He reached for the shard, pulling it free from his coat.
It pulsed.
"Not your time," he growled. "Just your strength."
For a moment, darkness poured from the shard, wrapping his arms in shadowed tendrils. His eyes burned violet. The pale blade shimmered, elongating into a spear of bone and fire.
The Trialbeast roared again and charged.
This time, Duncan didn't dodge.
He met it.
The spear punched through the lion's eye, piercing into the beast's brain. The creature screamed — a terrible, echoing sound that shook the world.
The other two heads bit down on Duncan's arms.
He didn't stop.
He drove the spear deeper.
The Trialbeast began to burn from the inside — cracks of light blossoming along its limbs.
With one final cry, it exploded into mist and ash.
Duncan dropped to one knee, panting, blood flowing freely from his side.
The Tribunal reappeared.
The serpent spoke.
"You carry the burden. You wield the fire. You have passed."
The ice beneath Duncan shimmered, forming into a staircase leading deeper underground.
The lion mask nodded.
"Go forth, Blood-Tide. The heart of the Maw awaits."
Duncan stood, wiped the blood from his face, and turned back toward the legion.
Alra met him first, tears brimming in her eyes.
"You shouldn't have survived that," she whispered.
"I didn't," he muttered. "But something else did."
And it was still walking in his skin.