The journey took weeks. They traveled through jagged mountain passes where the wind howled like a dying god. Kaelen was chained to three other children. Two died before the first week ended. Kaelen didn't cry. He watched the guards, noting their patterns, their weaknesses, and the way they carried their blades.
They finally reached a fortress carved directly into the side of a black mountain: The Nest.
There, Kaelen met Master Vane. The man was thin as a needle and just as sharp. He looked at the row of bedraggled children like a butcher inspecting meat.
"You are not children anymore," Vane said, his voice a low hiss. "You are raw ore. Most of you will break in the furnace. Those who remain will be the Obsidian Veil."
Vane walked down the line. He stopped in front of Kaelen. "You. Why are you not trembling like the others?"
Kaelen looked up. He could smell the iron on Vane's clothes. "Because trembling won't keep me warm, and it won't stop you from killing me."
A ghost of a smile touched Vane's lips. It was the most terrifying thing Kaelen had ever seen.
"The first lesson starts now," Vane announced. He pointed to a massive stone pit in the center of the courtyard. Inside were dozens of wooden staves. "Pick one up. The last ten standing get to eat. The rest... well, the mountain is hungry."
Kaelen didn't hesitate. He dived for a staff. He was small, but his mind was fifty years of strategy. He didn't rush into the center. He moved to the edge, letting the others exhaust themselves in their panic.