Arien's POV
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We crossed the scorched ridgeline at dawn.
A sunless dawn.
No streaks of gold broke the horizon. No birds greeted the sky. Just a dull, iron haze stretching over an obsidian valley, painted in deathly quiet.
Because this trial didn't give light.
It demanded it.
The moment we stepped into the basin, something in the air changed. No wind. No echoes. No breath of the world. Like we had crossed into a void carved out of time itself.
We walked slowly. No one dared speak.
Even Jisoo, usually the first to break tension with a jab or grin, stayed silent. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade, knuckles pale. Everyone felt it. Not fear. Not anticipation.
Pressure.
It didn't push down on our shoulders — it pulled from within. Like something was trying to peel open our chests and expose everything we'd buried.
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At the heart of the valley stood a monolith.
Fifty feet high. Jet black. Ancient. Its edges looked like they had been burned by the sun itself. Fire-veined runes crawled across its surface, shifting slowly — like they were alive.
> "A leader's will is not proven in battle…" "But in betrayal, burden, and belief."
> "Will you shatter… or carry?"
And then — the ground split.
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Shadows rose from the cracks.
Not smoke. Not illusions.
Memories.
Each student saw something different — I could feel it in the staggered gasps behind me.
One girl, Sumi, fell to her knees, whispering a name I didn't recognize. Ahal — the quiet one — dropped his weapon with a metallic clatter that echoed like a scream. They all stared into faces only they knew.
But I?
I saw her.
Me.
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She wasn't just a reflection.
She was the me who never turned back. The one who abandoned her family and never once regretted it. Sharp eyes. Straight posture. No hesitation. Fire in her blood, but no warmth in her hands.
> She smirked.
> "Let's see how far kindness gets you, Arien."
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The trial wasn't to defeat her.
It was to lead them — the others — through theirs.
And already, I was losing one.
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A scream split through the air.
Ahal.
He was running. Fast. Away from the circle.
"Jisoo, take command," I snapped. "Don't engage unless they break."
I bolted after him. Phoenix halberd in hand, flame trailing behind me like a comet's tail. The terrain warped beneath my feet — slick with ash, cracked from emotion.
I caught up near the edge of the trial space.
"Ahal!" I shouted, grabbing his shoulder. "Stop—"
"I CAN'T!" he screamed.
His voice broke something inside me.
He was shaking, breath ragged. His face pale, sweat streaked across his jaw.
"It's him," he said. "My father. Saying the same words again… before he hit me. Before he told me I was worthless."
His knees gave out.
"I don't want to fight him," he whispered. "I want him to say sorry. Just once."
I said nothing at first.
Then I crouched beside him.
"I'm not asking you to fight him," I said. "I'm asking you to stand taller than him."
He looked at me, eyes trembling.
"He never saw me."
"I see you," I said. "Right now. I see who you are."
I placed my palm on his back, over the glyph all of us bore — a mark that shimmered when courage was real.
It pulsed.
A soft, quiet light.
And his shadow… faded.
Not because he fought it.
Because he refused to carry its weight anymore.
---
I stood. Turned.
Back in the center, students were struggling.
Some shouted.
Some cried.
Some hesitated with blades raised against ghosts of their past.
And I moved.
Fast.
From one to the next.
Sumi sobbed against the illusion of her lost brother. "He drowned," she whispered. "He drowned when I was supposed to watch him."
"You can't save the past," I told her. "But you can choose to protect every tomorrow."
The glyph lit.
And her shadow dissolved.
---
Jisoo held strong.
He blocked a strike for Kellan, and I saw the blood drip from his arm.
"Still with me?" I asked.
He grinned through the pain. "You think I'd let you have all the speeches?"
---
I ran.
I fought.
Not with my halberd — but with every truth I had ever earned.
Every failure I had ever endured.
Every moment I had stood back up when it hurt to breathe.
I bled for them — not from wounds, but from honesty.
And one by one, they stood.
Until no shadows remained.
Until every memory bowed to the will of the present.
---
The monolith cracked.
A rumble rolled through the valley.
Then, in silence, it opened — splitting down the center like a door, revealing a staircase spiraling down into firelight.
Not red fire.
Golden.
Alive. Bright.
And then the voice came again — the one that had watched us all.
> "Only one may descend."
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They all looked to me.
Not a single hesitation.
Not a single doubt.
Even Jisoo.
He wiped the blood from his brow, smirked, and said:
> "You earned it." "We just followed your fire."
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My throat tightened.
I looked at every face.
Some bruised. Some broken. But all still here.
I nodded once, firmly.
And stepped forward.
---
The first stair glowed beneath my foot.
And the monolith whispered:
> "You carry them."
> "Now carry what comes next."
---
The light below wasn't fire.
It was judgment.
And I carried them with every step.
Not as a weight.
But as a promise.
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