The chamber pulsed with heat. Lines of fire lit up across the runes in the walls, bleeding into the stone floor until the ground itself glowed like a forge. The five candidates—Kael Ardyn, Darius Veylan, Rynna Solde, Jorek Vance, and Serran Vey—spread instinctively into a loose circle, blades and staves drawn.
The air rippled. From the molten cracks clawed creatures born of stone and flame: obsidian-scaled, their eyes like burning coals, their jaws dripping embers. Ember Drakes.
The voice echoed again, its words like molten iron hammered into the mind:
"Trial One: Endure the fire."
The drakes lunged.
Kael ducked the first set of jaws, rolling across the glowing floor as heat seared through his palms. He snatched up a loose shard of stone and drove it into the beast's throat, twisting until it dissolved into cinders. His arm blistered, but he pushed through the pain.
On his right, Rynna spun like a dancer, her twin blades flashing arcs of steel that cleaved through scales. Jorek's warhammer struck with earth-shaking force, scattering sparks. Serran's staff pulsed, waves of icy water bursting against flame.
Darius, at the front, laughed as he waded into the fray. "Pathetic beasts!" His sword cut wide arcs, cleaving one, then two—but his arrogance drove him too far ahead.
Kael saw it before anyone else. Another drake, larger than the rest, crawled from the fissure behind him. Its body coiled low, jaws opening for the kill.
"Darius!" Rynna screamed.
He turned too late.
Kael moved. He didn't think, didn't weigh his options—his body simply obeyed. Sprinting across the cracked stone, he launched himself forward. The world narrowed to fire and teeth. He slammed into Darius's side, shoving him clear as the drake's jaws snapped shut where his throat had been.
The beast turned on Kael, flame spilling from its maw. Heat scorched his skin, but he rammed the shard of stone into its mouth, twisting until the drake spasmed and burst apart into falling embers.
Kael dropped to one knee, his arm smoking, breath ragged.
Darius stared at him, stunned.
"You… you saved me?"
Kael's eyes narrowed, his voice low.
"If you die, we all fail. Don't make me do it twice."
Darius's mouth opened as if to retort, but no words came. His pride forced him silent.
The fight raged on, but the group began to move differently. Where before they were five strangers, now something fragile had begun to form. Rynna flanked Kael, her blades moving in time with his strikes. Jorek's hammer fell when Kael opened a gap. Even Serran adjusted his spells to shield Kael's burned side.
And Darius… though his jaw clenched, he fought closer now, his blade crossing paths with Kael's, their rhythm unspoken but undeniable.
One by one, the Ember Drakes fell, until the chamber fell silent but for the crackle of molten stone. The runes dimmed. The oppressive heat eased.
The voice returned, resonant and merciless:
"The First Trial ends. Prepare yourselves—the next awaits."
Kael straightened, blistered but unbowed. For the first time since stepping into this crucible, the others truly looked at him. Not as the stray. Not as dead weight. But as someone who had earned his place.
And though Darius said nothing, his eyes burned with a new, unspoken calculation.