Into the Shifting Wilds

CHAPTER 7 – Into the Shifting Wilds

A deafening crack split the air, followed by a brilliant flash of violet light. Lyrien staggered, his heart pounding against his ribs as the entire landscape seemed to ripple beneath his feet. Only moments ago, he and Reynard D'Aurelius had joined forces, but the trial's ever-shifting environment was proving to be an enemy all its own.

He stole a glance at Reynard. The noble boy's once-polished armor was already marred by dirt and ash, a testament to the countless dangers they'd faced in just a day of trial time. Yet Reynard's eyes still gleamed with an almost stubborn determination, even if his trembling hands betrayed the toll these encounters had taken.

"Stay close," Lyrien whispered, his voice tight. "We have no idea what's coming next."

All around them, the terrain twisted. Where there had been a dense woodland a few hours earlier, the trees now stood petrified, their trunks transformed into columns of smooth black stone. A jagged mountain range rose in the distance, its peaks glowing with a strange, eerie luminescence. It was as if the Arcaneum's magic was actively rewriting the world under their feet.

A low growl echoed through the silence, and both boys froze. Emerging from behind a cluster of stone trees was a hulking creature—its body bristled with quills, each dripping with a viscous, greenish liquid. Its eyes glowed a sickly yellow, and its maw opened to reveal razor-sharp fangs. Lyrien had never seen anything like it, not even in his darkest nightmares.

Reynard swallowed hard. "I—I've read about beasts like this in my father's bestiary. A Thornback Ravager, I think. But it shouldn't be anywhere near this region."

"Maybe the Arcaneum brought it here for the trial," Lyrien said, his voice quavering despite his attempts to remain calm. "Or maybe it's some mutated variant. Either way, we can't let it corner us."

The Thornback Ravager let out a guttural roar and charged. Its massive bulk smashed through the petrified trees as though they were twigs. Instinctively, Lyrien summoned a small orb of flame in his palm—he was no prodigy, but he hoped a distraction might buy them time. He hurled the fireball, and it struck the Ravager's side, sizzling against the quills. The creature howled in pain, momentarily diverted from its path.

"Go!" Lyrien shouted. He and Reynard sprinted across the uneven ground, adrenaline surging through their veins. The Ravager recovered quickly, tearing after them with terrifying speed.

They ducked under low-hanging stone branches and vaulted over broken pillars. The air crackled with residual magic, making every breath feel charged with static. Finally, they spotted a narrow ravine up ahead—a jagged cleft in the ground that might offer shelter if they could navigate it carefully.

Without hesitation, they descended into the ravine, skidding on loose gravel. The Ravager attempted to follow, but its bulky frame got wedged between two protruding rock faces. It roared, thrashing violently, and sent chunks of stone tumbling. One boulder slammed into the ground inches from Reynard's foot, missing him by a hair's breadth.

"That was too close," he gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "If that rock had landed on me…"

"We're alive," Lyrien said, though his own heart still hammered. He peered up at the thrashing beast. "Let's keep moving before it frees itself."

They wove deeper into the ravine. Overhead, the sky took on a twilight hue, even though the trial's time-dilated cycle indicated they were barely halfway through the first day. Or was it the second already? Time was impossible to track. At one point, Lyrien remembered Professor Marlowe's warning: five days in here, five hours out there. For Lyrien, who had precious little time left even in the real world, every moment felt both like a blessing and a curse.

Eventually, the ravine opened into a wide clearing. A shimmering waterfall cascaded from a cliff, pooling into a tranquil lake that glowed with faint blue luminescence. The area seemed oddly peaceful—perhaps a rare oasis in this chaotic trial. Exhausted, they made camp beneath a rocky overhang. Reynard's noble upbringing had included some survival training, and he managed to start a small fire with flint and tinder, letting Lyrien conserve his limited magical energy.

As they shared a scant meal of dried rations, Reynard glanced at Lyrien's tired face. "I never asked—why did you come here, really? You don't look like the type who wants glory or prestige."

Lyrien hesitated. He couldn't exactly explain the forbidden spell that gave him only days to live. Or how this entire trial was less about ambition and more about survival. Still, he owed Reynard some honesty. "Let's just say… my time is short. I'm hoping the Arcaneum can help me."

Reynard's gaze softened. "I understand. My family sent me here to prove myself, but truth be told, I'm not sure I have what it takes." He paused, recalling the near-death experiences they'd already shared. "But I do know I wouldn't have lasted this long without you."

They lapsed into companionable silence, the crackle of the fire and the rush of the waterfall soothing their frayed nerves. Despite the hardships, a bond was forming—a friendship forged in the crucible of danger.

A distant rumble shook them from their brief rest. The sky flickered with streaks of violet lightning, illuminating new shapes in the horizon. It seemed the trial was shifting again, warping the landscape to present fresh horrors.

"We should get moving," Lyrien said, rising stiffly. He felt a dull ache in his chest, a reminder of the ticking clock on his life. "We can't stay in one place for too long. If the Arcaneum wants to test our endurance, it's doing a damn good job."

Reynard nodded, dousing the fire with a handful of loose dirt. "Lead the way."

Stepping out from under the rocky overhang, they stared at the sky. The stars overhead looked wrong, as if rearranged by some cosmic hand. Every sense told them this place wasn't natural. It was a crafted arena meant to break them—or transform them into something stronger.

As they continued deeper into the shifting wilds, the echo of the Ravager's roars followed them like a distant thunder. They had escaped once, but who knew how many other monstrosities roamed these lands? Lyrien tightened his grip on the hilt of his dagger. If he wanted to live long enough to find a cure for his condition, he would need to face whatever nightmares the Arcaneum threw at him. With Reynard by his side, perhaps he stood a fighting chance.

Unbeknownst to them, high above in a watchful tower, arcane orbs recorded every move they made. Professors and senior students observed, taking notes on each recruit's strategies, alliances, and mistakes. The trial was a game of survival, yes, but also a window into each participant's character.

If Lyrien could see himself through those watchers' eyes, he might have been surprised to find a budding resilience, a tenacity born from desperation and hope. But for now, all he knew was the path ahead led further into the unknown, where beasts, shifting landscapes, and potential betrayal lurked at every turn. He swallowed his fear, steeled his nerves, and pressed on.