Chapter 15: The Trial of Will

The chamber of the Twelve Holy Guardians was silent, save for the faint hum of divine energy emanating from the sigils carved into the walls. Trevor stood at its center, his stance relaxed but his gaze sharp. Surrounding him were the Guardians, their expressions a mix of curiosity, skepticism, and quiet judgment.

Beatrice stood to the side, her presence more formal than usual. Though she'd fought to be there, her father had made it clear that she was an observer only.

Guardian Elysia, the eldest, spoke first, her tone measured but firm. "Trevor, traveler of the Mana Continent. You stand here before the Twelve as a man of contradiction—a wielder of both divine and demonic energy. Do you understand why you've been summoned?"

Trevor's eyes flicked to her. "Because you don't trust me."

Murmurs rippled through the room, but Elysia held up a hand, silencing them. "Trust is earned, not given. Your power is unlike any we've seen before, and that makes you both valuable and dangerous."

"I'm sure you've already decided which one I am," Trevor replied, his voice calm but edged.

Guardian Theros, his expression as hard as the armor he wore, leaned forward. "Careful, traveler. Your tone borders on insolence."

Trevor's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Guardian Sylvan, the youngest and most curious of the group, tilted his head. "Tell us, Trevor. How did you come to wield both divine and demonic energy? It's not something one simply… acquires."

Trevor's gaze flickered, the question stirring memories he had buried deep.

He was in the grand halls of the Felton estate again, the air thick with smoke and the stench of blood. His father's voice echoed in his mind, harsh and unyielding.

"You were born with this curse," his father had said, his face twisted with anger and fear. "You'll bring ruin to this family."

The soldiers had come soon after, dragging Trevor through the halls as the court looked on with disdain. His siblings had been silent, their faces pale and blank.

"Traitor," someone spat.

"Monster," another whispered.

The title of heir had been stripped from him that day, replaced by exile and shame.

"I don't remember," Trevor said flatly, snapping back to the present.

Sylvan frowned. "You don't remember?"

Trevor's gaze darkened. "It doesn't matter how I got it. What matters is what I do with it."

Theros scoffed. "And what is that, exactly? Will you use it to protect us or destroy us?"

"That depends on you," Trevor said coldly.

The tension in the room thickened, and Beatrice stepped forward, her voice steady but firm. "He saved my life. Isn't that proof enough of his intentions?"

Theros turned his sharp gaze on her. "Your Highness, you are blinded by gratitude. This man's power is a ticking time bomb. One wrong step, and he could bring Priestilia to its knees."

"That's enough," Elysia said, her voice cutting through the argument. She turned to Trevor, her expression unreadable. "What is it that you want, traveler? Why have you come to Priestilia?"

Trevor hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on him. "I didn't come here by choice. Beatrice brought me."

"And now that you are here?" Elysia pressed.

Trevor met her gaze, his voice low. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just trying to survive."

Elysia exchanged a glance with Guardian Lira, whose expression was softer but no less thoughtful. "Perhaps survival is not enough," Lira said. "You possess power unlike any other. Power that could tip the scales in the coming war."

"And you want me to fight for you," Trevor said, his voice edged with bitterness.

Lira shook her head. "We want to know who you are. And if you can be trusted."

Before Trevor could respond, Theros stood, his armored form towering over the others. "Then let him prove it. Words are meaningless. Let him face the Trial of Wills."

"The Trial?" Sylvan asked, his brow furrowing. "That hasn't been invoked in decades."

"It's fitting," Theros said, his gaze locked on Trevor. "If he truly wields both divine and demonic energy, let him prove his control. Or let him fail, and reveal the danger he poses."

Beatrice stepped forward, her face pale with anger. "This is unnecessary. He's already proven himself!"

"This is not your decision, Princess," Theros said coldly.

Elysia raised her hand, silencing the room. She studied Trevor for a long moment before nodding. "The Trial of Wills will determine his place among us."

As the Guardians left the chamber, Beatrice approached Trevor, her expression a mix of frustration and worry.

"This is ridiculous," she said. "You don't have to go through with this."

Trevor smirked faintly. "You think I have a choice?"

"You shouldn't have to prove anything to them," she said, her voice softer now.

Trevor's gaze softened, just slightly. "This isn't about proving myself to them."

"Then what is it about?"

He didn't answer immediately, his eyes drifting to the glowing sigils on the walls. "It's about making sure they know I'm not afraid of them."

Beatrice frowned. "Trevor—"

"I'll be fine," he said, cutting her off. "I've faced worse."

She studied him for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "Just… don't let them push you into something you're not ready for."

Trevor's smirk returned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Too late for that."

That night, Trevor sat alone in his chambers, his sword resting across his lap. The whispers in his mind had returned, louder and sharper than before.

"They'll never trust you."

"I don't need their trust," he muttered.

"You'll fail, just like before."

Trevor's grip on the sword tightened, his jaw clenching. "Not this time."

The sigil of the Trial glowed faintly on his forearm, a mark that would guide him into the next confrontation. The Trial of Wills awaited, and with it, the chance to face not only the Guardians but the echoes of his own fractured past.

***

The air in the chamber of the Trial of Wills was thick with energy, the sigils on the walls glowing brighter than before. The arena—a vast, circular space bordered by columns—was alive with divine and demonic symbols, each one humming faintly as though aware of the trial about to begin.

Trevor stood in the center, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. His expression was calm, but his eyes flicked over the details of the chamber, taking in every sigil, every shadow. He knew better than to trust the stillness.

The Guardians stood on a raised platform overlooking the arena. Beatrice was with them, her arms crossed tightly as she watched Trevor. Her expression was unreadable, but Trevor could feel the weight of her concern.

Guardian Elysia stepped forward, her voice echoing through the chamber. "Trevor, traveler of the Mana Continent, you have been summoned to face the Trial of Wills. This trial will test not only your strength but your control, your resolve, and your intentions. Do you accept the challenge?"

Trevor nodded once. "I do."

Elysia's gaze was steady. "Very well. The trial will begin shortly. The sigils will summon manifestations drawn from the energy within you. They will attack without mercy, and you must endure. Show us your will, and prove your place among us."

As Elysia stepped back, Theros moved to her side, his heavy armor clinking softly with each step. "If I may, Guardian Elysia," he said, his voice calm but edged with authority.

Elysia glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "What is it, Theros?"

Theros gestured toward the arena. "The traveler is not an ordinary participant. He wields power far beyond what we've seen before. Shouldn't the trial reflect that?"

Sylvan frowned, stepping forward. "The trial is already designed to challenge him, Theros. There's no need to interfere."

Theros's eyes narrowed slightly. "And what happens if he breezes through it? We learn nothing. If he is to prove himself, let him face the full weight of his power—and the consequences of wielding it."

Lira shifted uncomfortably. "The trial is dangerous enough as it is. You risk breaking him."

"That is the point," Theros said, his tone cold. "If he cannot endure, then he does not belong."

Elysia studied him for a long moment, then nodded reluctantly. "Very well. Adjust the trial."

Beatrice's voice cut through the air, sharp and clear. "That's not fair."

All eyes turned to her.

"This trial is already weighted against him," Beatrice continued, her tone fierce. "Changing it now isn't about fairness—it's about your fear of what he might prove."

Theros's gaze was icy as he addressed her. "With respect, Your Highness, this is not your decision to make. If Trevor cannot handle the trial, then he has no place here."

Beatrice opened her mouth to argue, but Trevor's voice interrupted her.

"Let him do it."

She turned to him, her eyes wide. "Trevor—"

"I don't need it to be fair," Trevor said, his voice steady but low. "Let him throw whatever he wants at me. I'll handle it."

Theros's smirk was slight but unmistakable as he turned back to the sigils. "So be it."

The sigils flared brightly, their light filling the chamber as the energy within them began to coalesce. Shadows twisted and writhed, forming into shapes that grew larger and more defined with each passing moment.

The first manifestation stepped forward—a towering beast made of crackling divine energy, its body glowing with golden light. Its eyes burned with righteous fury as it fixed its gaze on Trevor.

The second was its opposite—a creature born of pure darkness, its form constantly shifting, its red eyes gleaming with malice.

Trevor's grip on his sword tightened as the two manifestations began circling him. He could feel the weight of their energy pressing against him, testing his resolve.

"Face them," Elysia's voice echoed. "Prove your will."

The creatures lunged simultaneously, their attacks perfectly coordinated. Trevor ducked beneath the divine beast's glowing claws, spinning to parry the dark creature's strike. His sword met resistance as it sliced through the shifting shadow, but the creature reformed instantly, unscathed.

Trevor didn't hesitate. He shifted his stance, his movements calculated and precise as he struck at both creatures in quick succession. The divine beast roared as his blade found its mark, golden sparks flying as he carved a deep gash into its side.

But the attacks kept coming.

From the platform, Theros raised his hand subtly, and the sigils pulsed again. The creatures grew larger, their energy more volatile.

"What are you doing?" Sylvan hissed.

Theros didn't look at him. "Pushing him."

Beatrice's hands clenched at her sides as she watched Trevor dodge another blow, the ground beneath him cracking under the force of the creatures' attacks. "This isn't a trial," she muttered. "It's a slaughter."

The constant onslaught began to take its toll. Trevor's breaths came heavier, his movements slower as the creatures pressed him harder. The divine beast's claws grazed his side, searing his skin with holy fire. The dark creature's tendrils wrapped around his arm, pulling him to his knees.

And then it happened.

The whispers surged in his mind, louder than ever. "You've failed before. You'll fail again."

Images flashed in his mind—the halls of the Felton estate, the accusing glares, the blood on his hands.

"No," Trevor growled, his voice hoarse.

The whispers grew louder. "They'll never accept you. Just like your family didn't."

Trevor's eyes burned as he slammed his free hand against the ground, releasing a surge of energy. The tendrils disintegrated, and he staggered to his feet.

The creatures hesitated, their forms flickering.

Trevor raised his sword, his voice a low growl. "Not again."

With a burst of speed, he lunged at the divine beast, his blade cutting through its glowing chest. The creature let out a deafening roar before shattering into shards of golden light.

The dark creature shrieked and lashed out, but Trevor was faster. He swung his sword in a wide arc, the energy crackling along its edge slicing clean through the creature's core.

The chamber fell silent as the second creature dissolved into smoke.

Trevor stood in the center of the arena, his chest heaving as he lowered his sword. Blood trickled from the gash on his side, but his grip on the hilt didn't falter.

On the platform, the Guardians exchanged glances. Theros's smirk was gone, replaced by a scowl.

Elysia stepped forward, her tone calm but firm. "The trial is complete. Trevor has proven his will."

Beatrice exhaled, relief washing over her as she descended from the platform and hurried to his side.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice soft.

Trevor gave her a faint smirk, his eyes tired. "I've been worse."

As the Guardians left the chamber, Theros lingered, his gaze fixed on Trevor. "You're stronger than I expected," he admitted. "But strength isn't enough. Control is everything."

Trevor met his gaze, his voice steady. "Then maybe you should worry less about me and more about yourself."

Theros's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing as he turned and walked away.

Beatrice touched Trevor's arm gently, drawing his attention back to her. "You did it," she said, a faint smile on her lips.

Trevor nodded, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The whispers had quieted, but their message lingered: "You'll never escape what you are."

And deep down, Trevor wasn't sure he wanted to.