The third gate loomed before them, taller and darker than the others. Its runes pulsed like veins of fire and shadow entwined. Even Nyros's face, usually unreadable, carried a flicker of unease.
"This is the end," Nyros said softly. "The Trial of Sacrifice. Few who enter return whole… if at all."
Kaelis tightened his grip on Selara's hand. "We've come too far to turn back."
Selara met his gaze, her eyes trembling but determined. "Whatever it is, we face it together."
The gate opened without a word.
They stepped inside—and found themselves in a vast chamber of black stone. At its center rose a dais with two pedestals. On one lay a blade of pure light, gleaming as though forged from stars. On the other, a chalice of liquid shadow that pulsed like a living heart.
A voice, older than the earth itself, echoed through the chamber:
"One life must be given. One must remain. Choose, or both shall fall."
Selara's breath caught. "No…"
Kaelis felt the weight of the choice slam into him like a blow. One pedestal promised salvation through death. The other promised survival—but stained with darkness. Both paths demanded sacrifice.
Selara turned to him, tears in her eyes. "It has to be me. I carry the curse. If one of us must die, it should be me."
Kaelis's voice broke. "Don't you dare say that. You're not just the curse—you're you. You're the reason I'm still fighting."
She reached for the chalice of shadow, hands shaking. "Then I'll drink this. I'll take the darkness, and you'll be free."
"No!" Kaelis seized her wrist, his heart pounding. "You think I could live knowing you destroyed yourself for me?"
The chamber pulsed with power, the voice growing louder.
"Choose. Life for life. Light or shadow. There is no other path."
Kaelis looked at the blade of light, then at Selara. In that moment, he realized the trial's cruelty—it was not about death at all. It was about breaking them apart, forcing one to live with the other's sacrifice.
And he refused.
Kaelis released her hand and stepped forward, standing between the pedestals. "You want sacrifice?" he shouted to the unseen warden. "Then take me. Take us. We choose each other, not your curse!"
The chamber trembled violently. The blade of light flared, the chalice of shadow shattered into mist. For an instant, Kaelis thought they had doomed themselves—until Selara's hand slipped into his.
The voice shifted, no longer harsh but solemn:
"Trial complete. The bond chooses unity over division. The sacrifice is not of life, but of self. You are tempered."
The pedestals crumbled, and the chamber dissolved into light.
When the world stilled, Kaelis and Selara stood once more in the ruins, both alive, both whole. Nyros waited, watching them with unreadable eyes.
"You refused the choice," Nyros murmured. "You made your own."
Kaelis's chest still heaved, his voice hoarse. "We'll always make our own. That's how we'll beat him."
Nyros inclined their head. "Perhaps. Or perhaps that defiance is exactly what Maelor is waiting for."
Selara tightened her grip on Kaelis's hand, her voice soft but steady. "Then let him wait. We're ready."
Above them, the sky churned as though the world itself had heard their vow. The final trial was done—but the war was only beginning.