Chapter 15: Trials of shadow and Flame

Kael stood at the edge of the training platform carved into the cliffside, overlooking the chasm that divided the outer courtyard from the main sanctum of the Northern Glades Sect. The morning mist was still thick, clinging to the air like a ghostly veil. Around him, young cultivators from various sects whispered and glanced his way with thinly disguised curiosity—or open disdain.

He didn't belong here.

Not to them.

He had no visible cultivation base, no noble lineage, and no sect insignia. Yet Elder Ru had brought him here personally, placing him in the Selection Circle—a sacred trial meant to choose disciples for her direct tutelage.

"You're either very lucky or hiding something," muttered a tall youth beside him. His name was Lin Shen, a bronze-ranked outer disciple from one of the satellite branches of the sect.

Kael didn't respond. He kept his eyes forward, scanning the platform's edge.

They were thirty in total—selected from dozens of sects, each one having proven their worth in small skirmishes, sparring matches, or secret challenges. All but him had some public display to their name. Kael had only whispers and the curious attention of Elder Ru.

"Attention!" shouted a voice from above.

An old man with a hawk-like face and a white beard descending in rippling waves stepped onto a raised dais. He wore robes etched with wind runes that glowed faintly in the morning light.

"I am Elder Feng. The Selection Circle will now commence."

A shimmering light surrounded the circular platform, and a dome of energy rose into the sky, enclosing all participants in a spectral barrier.

Elder Feng raised a jade scepter. "Only ten of you will pass. The trial is simple—survive three rounds of elemental illusions. Fire, Shadow, and Spirit."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

Elemental illusions?

That meant not just physical endurance, but spiritual resilience—and inner clarity. Weak minds wouldn't survive the Spirit trial. Weak bodies would fail the Fire.

Kael took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

The first round began without warning.

Flames erupted from the platform, licking at their feet with sudden fury. The air grew heavy, and the platform beneath them shimmered into molten rock. Illusion or not, the heat felt real. Sweat beaded on Kael's brow.

He moved lightly, shifting weight to avoid the bursts of fire that exploded unpredictably from the ground. Others were not so lucky. Cries rang out as robes caught flame or students fell, screaming, clutching their arms.

Lin Shen cursed beside him, barely dodging a fire pillar. "What kind of sick test is this?!"

Kael didn't waste breath answering. He relied on the first layer of the Shadowstep Whispering Art, the movement technique Elder Ru had given him. It allowed him to bend the force in his step, gliding between bursts with minimal effort.

One youth—a disciple from the Blood Oak Sect—attempted to summon a water barrier to douse the flames but failed. The illusion ignored his spiritual command. Real spirit arts meant nothing here. Only perception, reaction, and clarity mattered.

Kael's steps grew more precise with each pass. The fire didn't just test physical movement—it preyed on fear. The more you hesitated, the hotter it burned.

He understood that now.

The fire was born of inner weakness.

And Kael had burned before.

He had been scorned, humiliated, and forgotten. No flame of illusion could match the fire that had once consumed his pride.

The round ended with a sudden gust of cold wind.

Ten had already fallen.

The second round began almost immediately.

The platform dimmed, the sky turning pitch black. One by one, shadows emerged from the mist—twisted reflections of the participants themselves.

Kael blinked and found himself standing across from… himself.

But not quite.

This version of him bore a sneer, its eyes glowing with silver malice.

"You're nothing," the shadow Kael said. "No one believes in you. Not even she does. Lin pities you."

Kael clenched his fists.

"You pretend you're strong," the shadow continued, circling. "But you're afraid. Afraid of failing. Afraid that no matter how hard you work, it will never be enough."

Others were already screaming. Some lay on the ground, curled up, as their shadows mocked them. One boy tried to attack his mirror image, only to be struck down by a blade of darkness.

The illusion was too real.

Kael didn't move.

He simply stared at his shadow.

"I am afraid," he said quietly.

The shadow tilted its head.

"But that fear is not a weakness. It's my reminder. That I must rise. That I will rise."

His voice cut through the silence.

The shadow hissed, lunged—

Kael stepped forward and dispersed it with a palm glowing faintly with shadow essence. The Whispering Art—layer two—unlocked through meditation and pain.

His breath was steady.

Only fifteen remained now.

Then came the final trial.

Spirit.

And it was unlike anything Kael had ever experienced.

The platform vanished. The dome melted. The other participants faded from view.

He stood alone in a forest of stars, each tree pulsing with memory.

A voice echoed, neither male nor female.

"What binds you?"

Kael turned slowly.

He saw his parents' faces—obscured, like forgotten dreams.

He saw Lin's eyes—full of confusion, anger… and something more.

He saw himself—alone in a dark cave, cultivating by moonlight, bleeding from the palms as he forced his meridians to open.

"What binds you?"

"Nothing," Kael whispered.

But the stars pulsed harder.

A memory surfaced.

He was younger—ten, perhaps—dragged before a crowd. Accused of stealing pills from a senior disciple. The punishment had been cruel.

And no one had spoken for him.

Not even Lin.

She had turned her head.

"What binds you?"

"My heart," he said.

This time, the forest of stars dimmed, then burst into a radiant glow.

And the voice faded.

He opened his eyes.

Only eight remained.

Elder Feng nodded slowly, arms crossed.

"Not bad," he murmured. "Surprising. You—Kael. Step forward."

Kael did.

"You scored among the top three," Elder Feng said. "Your shadow trial was the fastest cleared. Your spirit trial… the most volatile. But also the most stable."

Whispers spread through the disciples.

Kael? Top three?

Lin Shen looked pale.

Elder Ru appeared on the dais. "As promised, I shall take three under my wing. Kael will be the first."

She turned to him, eyes glinting.

"Congratulations, Shadowborn."

That night, Kael stood in his new quarters—a circular chamber built into the mountain's side, lined with scrolls, meditation mats, and alchemical vials. A mark had been etched on the door: the sigil of Elder Ru.

He sat in silence, letting the day's events settle.

He was now one of the Inner Circle.

But this path had only begun.

And beyond the stars, darkness stirred.

A letter sat on his bed.

From Cloudveil Sect.

He opened it.

Lin's handwriting.

"Kael… I don't know why you left without saying more. I don't know what's ahead of you. But I saw Zhao Chen again. He said things that made my blood run cold.

Be careful. You're walking in shadows. And I don't think they all belong to you."

Kael smiled faintly.

The game had changed.

But he still played from the dark.

And soon…

They would all see him clearly.