Kaelen stood on the balcony long after Elara had left, the smooth, dark stone a comforting weight in his palm. It felt real, solid—a tangible piece of the world untouched by the schemes of Commanders and Spymasters. Her words had carved a new channel in his mind, one that ran deeper than promises of power or whispers of influence. Don't let them make you forget that you were a person before you were a weapon.
He finally returned to his room as the first hints of artificial dawn—a soft, blue lightening of the sky—began to simulate morning over Havenfall. He placed Elara's stone on the desk beside the empty tray. He did not put Isolde's note back on the sill.
Sleep, when it came, was not the restful oblivion he craved. It was a turbulent sea of shadows.
He was running through the ruins again, the familiar ache of hunger in his belly. But the Shade-Stalker that chased him was different. Larger. Its single white eye was replaced by two familiar ones: one the flinty grey of Commander Valeria, the other the cunning, wine-dark gaze of Isolde. They judged him, found him wanting.
"A weapon must be sharpened," Valeria's voice echoed from the creature's maw.
"A key must be turned," Isolde's voice whispered from the clicking claws.
He tried to summon his power, but the Umbral energy felt like tar, slow and heavy. It didn't form a shard; it wrapped around his limbs, pulling him down into the cold ground. He was sinking, the shadows claiming him. He looked at his hands and saw they were becoming translucent, fading into the mist. He was disappearing. He was—
Kaelen jolted awake, a gasp trapped in his throat. The room was dark, the only light the faint glow from the city below his window. His heart hammered against his ribs. The dream felt less like a nightmare and more like a premonition.
The automated chime for breakfast made him jump. The door slid open, and a different soldier—younger, with a neutral expression—placed a new tray on his desk. This one held a portion of oatmeal, a piece of fruit, and more water. Standard, efficient, impersonal.
As the soldier left, Kaelen's eyes immediately scanned the tray, then the floor around it. There was no note. No secret message. A strange mix of relief and disappointment washed over him. Isolde was respecting his unspoken decision. For now.
He ate mechanically, the food tasteless. The dream had stolen his appetite. The fear of being consumed, of losing himself, was now a sharper terror than any monster.
The door chimed again, but it did not open. Commander Valeria's voice, crisp and clear, came from the panel beside it. "Kaelen. Training chamber in ten minutes. Do not be late."
Her tone brooked no argument. The moment of quiet contemplation was over.
When he arrived, Valeria was already there, waiting in the center of the mat. She didn't greet him. "Again. The shield. Make it larger. Hold it longer."
He pushed his fears and dreams down, locking them away. He focused. The Umbral energy responded more readily this time, flowing from his core with less resistance. A disc of darkness, twice the size of the one from yesterday, shimmered into existence before him. He held it, his arm trembling not from the weight, but from the mental strain of maintaining the complex form.
"Better," Valeria acknowledged, a single word of praise that felt like a victory. "Now, your Trial."
Kaelen's concentration broke. The shield dissolved. "My… Trial?" The word felt heavy on his tongue.
"The System has issued it," she said, her face an unreadable mask. "All initiates face their first Trial shortly after Awakening. It assesses your will to survive. Your specific objective will be revealed when you begin." She took a step closer, her grey eyes boring into his. "This is not a training exercise. You will be sent into the Veil-Touched Wilds, just beyond the wall. Failure is death. But success..." She let the word hang in the air, the promise of years and power left unspoken but deeply understood.
"The Wilds?" The breath left his lungs. The memory of the skittering claws, the milky eye, the crushing silence—it all rushed back.
"This is the path," Valeria stated, her voice leaving no room for debate. "There is no other. Prepare yourself. You depart at dawn tomorrow."
She turned to leave, her message delivered. But as her hand touched the door panel, she paused and glanced back at him. "The Citadel is old. Its walls have heard many whispers. Listen to too many, and you will lose your way. Focus on the mission. It is the only thing that will ensure you live to see another day."
The door slid shut behind her, leaving Kaelen alone with the echo of her command and the ghost of Isolde's offer. 'The nature of a Trial can be… influenced.'
Valeria offered a test of brutal strength. Isolde offered a way to cheat. And Elara's warning echoed in the space between them: a plea not to lose his soul in the process.
The weight of the choice was his to carry. His Trial would begin at dawn. His decision had to be made now.