The First Trial

Chapter 43: The First Trial

The moment the temple's doors sealed shut behind them, an unnatural silence swallowed the air. The blue flames lining the walls flickered weakly, casting eerie shadows that twisted and stretched like living things.

Celestine tightened her grip on her blade, forcing her breath to steady. Lucien and Draven flanked her, both as tense as coiled springs. The whispering voices had faded, but an overwhelming presence still lingered in the chamber.

Then, without warning, the ground beneath them shifted.

Celestine barely had time to react before the floor cracked apart, separating the three of them. She stumbled, the icy ground giving way beneath her feet as an unseen force pulled her into the darkness below. The last thing she saw was Lucien's outstretched hand reaching for her—before everything vanished.

Celestine landed hard, her knees hitting the stone with a sharp crack. The chamber around her was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of age and decay. Her heart pounded as she pushed herself up, scanning her surroundings.

She was alone.

A deep, resonant voice echoed from the walls. "The First Trial begins."

A cold shiver ran down her spine. She turned just in time to see mist swirling before her, solidifying into a towering figure clad in spectral armor. Its face was obscured, but its glowing eyes burned into hers with unearthly intensity.

"Face your past, or be consumed by it."

The figure raised its sword, and suddenly, the air around her shimmered. Scenes from her memories materialized—her childhood, the fall of her family, the first time she ever tasted true fear.

Celestine clenched her fists. No. Not again.

The warrior lunged.

She had no choice but to fight.

The clang of metal echoed through the chamber as Celestine parried the warrior's first strike. The force of the blow sent her skidding back, boots scraping against the stone. Her breath came in sharp gasps, but she held her ground.

The specter moved with an unnatural speed, its blade a blur of silver and shadow. Celestine barely had time to react before another attack came, forcing her to dodge and roll to the side. Each movement felt heavier, as if the air itself was thickening, pressing against her limbs.

This isn't just a test of strength, she realized. It's testing my mind—my resolve.

The visions surrounding her flickered, growing more vivid. She saw her younger self, trembling as she hid behind a broken pillar, her family's home in flames. She saw the cold, merciless eyes of the man who had taken everything from her. The weight of the past threatened to crush her.

"You are weak," the specter's voice rasped. "You always have been."

Celestine gritted her teeth. "Not anymore."

She surged forward, her blade igniting with a fiery glow. She met the specter's next attack head-on, steel clashing with ethereal force. Sparks flew, illuminating the chamber in bursts of golden light.

The battle raged on, and with each strike, Celestine felt the chains of her past loosen. She wasn't that frightened girl anymore. She was stronger. She was a warrior.

With a final, decisive blow, she drove her sword through the specter's chest. The figure let out a guttural howl, its form dissolving into mist. The visions vanished, leaving only silence.

Then, the chamber began to shift again. The stone beneath her trembled, and a new doorway appeared before her, bathed in a ghostly glow.

The trial wasn't over yet.

Chapter 44: Echoes of the Abyss

Celestine steadied her breath, her fingers still trembling from the battle. The ghostly doorway before her pulsed with an eerie light, beckoning her forward. She tightened her grip on her blade and stepped through.

A cold wind howled past her as she emerged into a vast chamber lined with towering statues, each depicting warriors locked in battle. Shadows flickered across the stone, their movements unnatural, almost alive.

A whisper slithered through the air. Welcome to the Abyss.

The temperature dropped instantly. Celestine exhaled, watching as her breath crystallized in the freezing air. Then, the statues began to move.

One by one, the stone warriors cracked apart, revealing spectral figures within. Their hollow eyes locked onto her, filled with an eerie, knowing light. They spoke in unison, their voices merging into a chorus that made the air vibrate.

"The Trial of the Abyss is not one of strength alone. It is of endurance. Of will. And of truth."

Celestine barely had time to react before the first warrior lunged. She sidestepped, parrying its strike, but another was already upon her. She twisted, narrowly dodging a blade aimed at her throat.

More figures closed in, forming a relentless storm of attacks. She struck back, cutting through their incorporeal forms, but they reformed almost instantly. Their laughter echoed, taunting her.

Panic gnawed at the edges of her mind. They can't be defeated like this.

Then, she noticed something—a faint shimmer in the distance, a single statue untouched by the decay of time. Unlike the others, its hands were open, not wielding a weapon, but reaching outward as if offering something unseen.

The answer isn't to fight.

Celestine sheathed her blade. The moment she did, the warriors hesitated. The laughter faded, replaced by an expectant silence. The air crackled as the unseen force pressing against her lightened.

She stepped toward the unbroken statue. As her hand met its cold stone surface, a sudden warmth flooded her chest. The warriors around her let out a collective sigh before vanishing like mist. The Abyss trembled, the darkness receding.

A new doorway formed ahead, golden light spilling through its frame. Celestine exhaled, her heart still pounding.

"One trial down," she murmured, stepping through. "But how many more remain?"