Chapter 2: The Arena of Sand

Raen floated in darkness. Weightless. Cold.

Memories flickered. His mother's laugh. His father's hands, rough from carving wood. Warmth around a crackling hearth. Then—gone. Slipping away like sand through fingers.

A voice boomed in the void. Deep. Ancient. It thrummed through his bones.

"To grasp Sol is to shed what holds you."

He wanted to speak—ask what that meant—but darkness swallowed him whole.

---

Air punched into his lungs. Raen's eyes snapped open as he hit the ground hard. Sand flew up around him. Coughing, he rolled onto his back, blinking at the sky—a dark stretch with no stars. Only a huge, flickering moon casting silver light across a twisted desert.

He sat up. Dunes surrounded him, some bending upward like frozen waves, others hanging in the air. The ground beneath him thumped, a slow heartbeat.

This can't be real.

A voice rumbled overhead, shaking the air.

"First Trial: Reach the Temple of Dusk. Survive. Endure. Ascend."

Heart pounding, Raen scanned his surroundings. Dozens of figures lay scattered across the sand—some groaning, some standing, others frozen in shock. The air thrummed with tension.

Glowing words flared before him:

Name: Raen Solmere

Sol State: Dormant

Conduit Progress: Dormant

He frowned. Sol State? Conduit? Pieces of memory stirred—the ritual, searing light, pain clawing through him. But this place? No clue.

A girl nearby muttered, "The temple's a trick. Looks close. It isn't."

A boy on his other side added, "And stop moving, you disappear." His gaze was distant.

Raen didn't have time to process that. Energy flooded the air—thick and sharp. People began to run.

Move! Instinct screamed. Raen scrambled to his feet, legs shaky but moving. The temple shimmered far ahead, half-hidden by swirling sand.

Others surged forward, unleashing strange powers. A girl streaked past, fire sparking beneath her feet.

A boy soared overhead, riding gusts of wind.

Someone else melted into shadow, slipping across dunes.

Raen gritted his teeth. I don't have any of that. Just run.

His legs burned. Breaths came in ragged pulls. The sand shifted beneath him. He focused on the distant temple—which is his goal. His only way out.

Then—crack! The ground split open. His foot slipped. "Wait—!"

Sand collapsed beneath him.

He fell.

---

Pain flared as he hit something solid. Groaning, Raen rolled onto his side.

Darkness wrapped around him, thick and heavy—but silver veins pulsed along the cavern walls. The air was colder down here, tinged with metal and dust.

I'm underground? His limbs ached, but he pushed himself up. Around him, the cavern twisted like a snake's belly. The walls… they breathed. Slow, steady pulses. This place is alive.

A faint glow ahead drew him forward. Careful steps echoed in the silence. Then—he saw it.

A narrow stream cut across the path. Not water. It gleamed like molten glass, shifting with colors. Heat radiated from it.

Sol? Curiosity won over caution. He knelt, dipped a finger in.

A jolt raced up his arm—sharp and burning.

Images slammed into his mind: skies ablaze with fire, stone-faced gods staring down, voices—countless voices—whispering his name.

He yanked his hand back, gasping.

Don't do that again.

Further in, markings carved into the walls shifted shapes as he looked at them. Symbols he didn't recognize—but felt.

A sound snapped him out of it.

Footsteps?

Someone footsteps that wasn't him.

Raen turned. A boy emerged—tall, lean, dark eyes that were sharp as blades. He stopped a few paces away.

"You're slow."

Raen bristled. "Who are you?"

"Someone who doesn't plan on dying down here." The boy jerked his chin toward the tunnel. "Move or stay. Your choice." Without waiting, he walked off.

Raen hesitated, then followed. It's better than being alone.

As they walked, the boy spoke low. "The desert tests your body. Down here? It's your mind. Don't trust what you see."

Raen glanced at the walls. The carvings shifted into faces—eyes watching. "Yeah. Got it."

The tunnel narrowed. Then opened into a vast chamber. In the center stood a black stone archway, silver veins pulsing along its surface. Symbols crawled over it, alive.

The air beneath the cavern shifted. Raen felt it before he saw it—a soft hum trembling through the ground, creeping up his legs and settling in his chest.

The archway ahead pulsed with silver veins, slow and steady, like a giant's heartbeat.

"What? You waiting for an invitation?" the boy said, glancing back.

His tone was dry but carried a hint of urgency. "You stand around too long, this place swallows you whole. Move."

Raen hesitated. His fear clawed at him, whispering, turn back, but another voice—deeper and hungrier—urged him forward.

He clenched his jaw and stepped through the arch.

Light exploded. Weight vanished. He tumbled in darkness where up, down, and sideways lost meaning.

Then—impact. His back slammed into stone. Air whooshed from his lungs as he rolled onto his side, coughing. Distantly, he heard the boy's footsteps—steady, unfazed.

Blinking through the haze, Raen sat up. They were inside a cavernous space, walls glistening with mineral veins that flickered like faint stars.

The ground was cracked. An eerie quiet hung in the air, broken only by the soft drip of water somewhere unseen.

"Long way to the temple," the boy muttered, glancing ahead. "It's dangerous. Lots of things down here want to eat you... or worse."

He looked over his shoulder, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Good thing you found me. I know a shortcut. Follow close."

Raen pushed to his feet, wiping dirt from his face. I have no choice, he thought.

His limbs ached, but the promise of getting out pushed him on.

He fell in step behind the boy, who moved quickly through a series of narrow tunnels.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The air grew colder. Faint scratches marked the walls.

Raen's stomach twisted. "This... doesn't feel like the right way," he said cautiously.

The boy's steps didn't falter. "Temple's far. You wouldn't make it going straight. I told you—shortcut."

Something was off. Raen slowed, eyes darting to the shadows that seemed to stretch and breathe. His skin prickled with unease. "Why help me?" he asked, voice low.

"Survival's easier with two," the boy said without turning. But there was something in his tone—too smooth, too easy.

Then—crunch. Raen's foot stepped on something brittle. He glanced down.

Bones. Old, picked clean. Human.

His chest tightened. "Wait—"

Too late. The boy spun, dagger flashing. Raen barely jerked back, the blade grazing his cheek. Pain bloomed, hot and sharp.

"Sorry," the boy said, smile widening. "But I'm starving. Haven't eaten in days. You? You're fresh."

Raen's heart pounded. He's going to eat me. Blood dripped from his cheek, warm against the cold air.

He stumbled back as the boy lunged again, faster this time. Instinct kicked in. Raen raised an arm—and something flared inside him.

Golden light burst from his veins, forming a thin shield. The dagger glanced off, sending sparks flying.

"Oh?" The boy's grin didn't falter. "Got a little Sol in you. That's fine. Makes the meat richer."

Raen's mind raced. Think. Move. He dashed sideways, tripping over rubble.

His pulse roared in his ears. He didn't want to fight—he didn't know how—but survival screamed louder.

The boy came again, dagger flashing. Raen threw up his arm.

Gold light flickered—weak but enough. Blades clashed against glowing Sol, sending vibrations up his bones.

I can't hold out, Raen thought desperately. His whole body ached, lungs burning.

Memories surged—Veywick's flames, his parents' faces swallowed by smoke. No. Not like this. Not here.

He gritted his teeth, dragging every ounce of fear and anger forward. Golden threads flared brighter, wrapping his fists. Hit him.

He swung. Light connected with flesh.

The boy staggered back. His expression twisted—not with fear, but delight. "That's more like it! Fight!"

Raen didn't wait. He turned and ran.

Laughter echoed behind him. "Run all you want! This maze's mine! You'll starve before I do!"

His legs pumped, heart thundering. The tunnels twisted, each path identical, shadows stretching endlessly.

His breath hitched—panic clawing at his throat—until he spotted it: a faint glow ahead. A door? An exit? Anything.

He sprinted toward it. Hands slammed against old wood, forcing it open.

Light spilled through, blinding. He stumbled inside—and the door slammed shut behind him.

Panting, Raen collapsed to his knees. His veins still glowed faintly, warmth pulsing under his skin. That was too close.

But he wasn't safe. Not yet.

In the dim space, shapes lined the walls—statues? No... people. Frozen mid-scream, their bodies calcified.

Raen's breath caught. "What is this place..."

Behind him—scraping. The boy's voice, muffled but close. "Won't be long now, Raen! Doors don't hold me out forever!"

Raen's fists clenched. Fear twisted in his gut, but determination burned hotter. I have to survive. No one's saving me.

Ahead, another archway pulsed. With no choice, he wiped blood from his cheek, he stood and stepped forward.