The Trial Beyond The Walls

Three Months Later

The sky above Mailie glowed a gentle amber, like a canvas warmed by sleep. Clouds drifted slow and soft, content to idle. But inside the stone walls of Postknight Hall, the air was taut, laced with expectation.

Today was different. No routine deliveries. No errand runs.

Today, two D-ranked Postknights — Solis and Ada — stood at the threshold of something new.

Solis tightened the strap across his chest, scanning the courtyard with a restless gaze. His sword — gone. The absence pulsed like a bruise on his hip. After everything in Pompom — the wounds, the quiet weeks of recovery — he still reached instinctively for the blade whenever tension climbed his chest.

"You look like someone who forgot his pants," Ada teased, sauntering over with her wooden training sword slung over her back.

He allowed a dry smile. "Feels like it. The weight's missing. I notice it even before the breeze hits."

"You'll get it back," she said, voice softer now. "But next time, you'll be holding it. It won't be holding you."

He didn't reply immediately. Instead, his gaze drifted toward the sky.

Since waking up in the infirmary, the memories of Pompom haunted him. Losing control. Almost killing Hamad. The rage hadn't felt like his. This thought scared him. He ought to himself that with his blade he will protect people, not kill them. And the sword Cassandra had entrusted to him — that too was gone, somewhere in the rubble.

It had meant something. A promise.

And now?

Now it was just a ghost clinging to his shoulder.

He sighed. "Okay. Let's do this."

A light mist curled from their breath in the morning air.

Their breath fogged lightly in the morning chill. They weren't alone in the courtyard. Vaidya stood near a bulletin board under a tree, pacing with a stack of notes in his hand. His brow was furrowed, lips murmuring to himself. Dried ink smudged one side of his face, probably from falling asleep on a scroll again.

"You're not joining?" Ada called out.

Vaidya jolted, blinking. "What? Me? No. I— I thought about it, but... no. My spells still stall at C-rank. The combat portion alone would flatten me."

Solis stepped closer, steady. "You've always been the one who holds the team together. You're stronger than you think."

Vaidya offered a thin smile. "And yet not strong enough for this part."

There was something heavy in his tone. A resignation, maybe. Or acceptance. Solis felt it deep in his ribs — the ache of moving forward while someone you care about stays behind.

The tower bell rang — deep and sonorous.

"Candidates Solis and Ada," came the crisp voice of Captain Jannick from above. "Report to the trial grounds."

Ada cracked her knuckles. "Showtime."

---

Trial Grounds

Behind the main barracks lay a training arena that looked more like a coliseum dressed in ceremony. Stone slabs formed a wide circular platform. Rows of benches curled around it, filled with watching Postknights. Purple banners fluttered on their poles, bearing the Kingdom's crest.

Beneath a shaded dais stood the examiners.

Captain Jannick — once gruff, now sharper after Tedric's passing — stood in the center. On his left, Commander Cassandra, freshly returned. And beside her, a woman unfamiliar to Solis: Captain Valeera, clad in white-lined navy armor, her gaze cool and unreadable.

"Three trials," Jannick announced. "Speed. Precision. Strategy."

Ada nudged Solis. "Pretty sure I'm only built for two of those."

"Then I'll just have to catch up," he muttered back.

---

Trial One: Speed

The course stretched like a broken path through a forgotten village. Rubble scattered the track, ropes tangled overhead, fake creatures on rails darted in and out of sight.

"Retrieve the parcel from the statue of Gwyn. Deliver it to the marked gate. Avoid damage. Avoid delay. Move."

The horn blared.

Solis shot forward. His feet met the dirt with practiced rhythm. Beside him, Ada moved like smoke — quick, graceful, always a step ahead.

He leapt over a fallen cart, ducked under a swinging log, and grabbed the cloth-wrapped parcel. A padded bolt flew from a mock bandit — Solis turned with it, using the parcel itself to absorb the hit, spinning low into a sprint again.

Behind him, Ada sailed over barricades, tucked into a roll, and nailed a decoy target with a well-timed potion.

They crossed the finish line shoulder to shoulder, lungs burning.

"Time: 2 minutes, 47 seconds," Cassandra called. "Clean work. Impressive coordination."

Valeera raised an eyebrow. "They skipped two scanning points. Noted."

---

Trial Two: Precision

Dozens of targets popped up on the field. Some bore the insignia of enemy forces. Others were marked civilians, magical allies, and rare beasts. The challenge? Pick the right ones and hit them. You only got ten throws.

Ada winced as one of her hits glanced off a "civilian" dummy.

Solis, strangely, felt clear. Each throw came like breath — measured, deliberate. He saw the rhythm of the field, the movement between decisions. His aura, flickering faint and blue, gave him a sense of where to strike.

When the chime rang, Solis had landed 92% accuracy.

Valeera murmured, "Very sharp perception. He's tracking with instincts."

"Still clutching his wrist though," Cassandra observed. "He's pushing too far."

---

Trial Three: Strategy

Now came the storm.

Captain Jannick stepped into the ring.

He didn't need theatrics. His presence alone darkened the field. His battleaxe swung in slow arcs that shattered air and kicked up dust. This wasn't a test — it was survival.

"Circle him!" Solis yelled. "High ground, now!"

Ada vaulted up a ledge. As Jannick turned to intercept, she launched down with a clash of blades. Solis moved into the opening, landing a solid strike on the shoulder guard.

"Better," Jannick grunted — before slamming the butt of his axe into Solis's chest, sending him flying into a barrel.

Ada's blade was torn from her grip.

They regrouped, bruised but upright.

"No sword…" Solis breathed.

"You don't need it," Ada said. "We've got each other."

For the last thirty seconds, they fought side by side. No hesitation. Just instinct, timing, and faith.

The bell rang.

The crowd applauded.

---

After a brief recess, they were called before the judging panel. Valeera's expression was unreadable. Jannick crossed his arms.

Cassandra, however, smiled.

"Solis. Ada. Your strengths are clear. Your gaps, too — but they don't outweigh your growth. By majority decision… you've both earned your Rank C badges."

Relief flooded Solis. Ada grinned, bumping him with her elbow.

"Took us long enough."

Commander Cassandra raised her hand. "With Rank C, your duties expand. You're now eligible for assignments in regions like Caldemount, Verdancia, and Crown City. Choose your missions wisely. Your privilege points start today."

From the edge of the courtyard, Solis spotted Vaidya — still watching, still smiling. But his eyes were tired. Proud. And a little distant.

He didn't come closer.

Solis didn't call him.

---

That Night

The lights of Mailie glowed like distant dreams.

Solis sat beneath the same old tree, holding his new badge in his palm. It felt heavier than it looked.

Ada sat down beside him.

"You haven't clipped it on yet."

He shook his head. "Doesn't feel right without him."

"He'll get there. Just not on the same path."

Solis smiled softly. "I know."

She leaned back. "So… what next? Caldemount?"

"Yeah," he said. "Commander said there's someone there who might help me control the aura surges. And… I don't know. I feel like something's calling me."

Ada gave him a skeptical glance. "Is it the 'mysterious sword' again?"

He laughed under his breath. "Maybe. But I want you there. I need you there."

Ada blinked. "Was that... a request?"

"No," Solis said, meeting her gaze. "It is for certainty."

Ada stood and reached out her hand.

"Then let's go. Caldemount won't wait."

He took it.

And somewhere beyond the torchlight, in the dark behind the barracks, a silent figure watched. Eyes glowing faint violet.

The wind shifted.