The temple's oppressive air lingered in Azarion's lungs as he and Sera emerged into the open wasteland. A pale sun hung low in the sky, its weak light casting long, distorted shadows over the cracked earth. Azarion tightened his grip on the blade, his thoughts heavy with the divine warning he had received.
"What's the plan now?" Sera asked, breaking the silence.
Azarion scanned the horizon, his gaze narrowing on a distant mountain range. "The trials won't wait. The gods have set their path, and I must walk it."
Sera sighed, shouldering her bow. "You're seriously going to trust the same gods who exiled you? Sounds like a trap."
"It is," Azarion said bluntly. "But I have no choice. My power is scattered, locked away in pieces. The first fragment lies ahead." He pointed toward the jagged peaks.
The mountain loomed closer as they walked, its blackened rock streaked with veins of red, as if the earth itself bled. The ground beneath their feet grew hotter, cracks in the soil emanating faint heat.
"What kind of trial are we talking about?" Sera asked, keeping her tone casual but her steps wary.
Azarion didn't answer immediately. He could feel the pull of the mountain, the subtle hum of divine energy drawing him closer. "The gods favor cruelty," he finally said. "They'll exploit every weakness, every fear. The trial will test my resolve, my strength—and my ability to survive."
Sera stopped walking, her eyes narrowing. "You're not going in alone."
"I have to," he replied, his voice firm. "This is my burden, Sera. You've already risked enough by coming this far."
She scoffed, her expression defiant. "I didn't follow you just to watch you die. You're stuck with me, Azarion, whether you like it or not."
He didn't argue, but the faintest trace of a smile flickered across his face.
---
The entrance to the trial lay in a narrow canyon, its walls lined with carvings of weeping figures. As Azarion and Sera approached, a sudden gust of wind swept through the canyon, carrying whispers that seemed to speak directly to his soul.
"You were once a god, but now you crawl in the dust. Do you truly think yourself worthy?"
Azarion ignored the voices, stepping into the canyon without hesitation. Sera followed close behind, her bow at the ready.
The moment they crossed the threshold, the air shifted. The light of the sun vanished, replaced by a heavy darkness that pressed against their skin. The walls of the canyon dissolved, leaving them in an endless void.
"What is this?" Sera whispered, her voice trembling.
Azarion gripped his blade, his eyes scanning the emptiness. "The trial has begun."
A figure emerged from the darkness, its form identical to Azarion's. The doppelgänger wore a cold, mocking smile, its eyes gleaming with malice.
"Do you recognize me?" it asked, its voice a perfect mirror of Azarion's.
Azarion's jaw tightened. "You're nothing but a shadow."
The doppelgänger chuckled. "I am you. The part of you that you deny, the part that hungers for vengeance. I am your anger, your doubt, your despair."
The shadow raised its own blade, identical to Azarion's glowing weapon. "If you wish to reclaim your power, you must first conquer yourself."
Without warning, the shadow lunged. Azarion barely managed to block, the clash of blades sending sparks into the void. The force of the strike pushed him back, and he realized immediately that his opponent matched his strength, his speed—every skill he possessed.
Sera nocked an arrow, aiming at the doppelgänger. But the moment she loosed it, the shadow twisted, catching the arrow mid-flight and shattering it with ease.
"This is not your fight, mortal," it sneered, its gaze briefly flicking to her. "Your presence here is meaningless."
Azarion used the distraction to strike, his blade slashing toward the shadow's side. But the doppelgänger moved with inhuman precision, dodging the attack and countering with a swift blow that Azarion barely parried.
"You cannot win," the shadow taunted. "You are weak. Broken. A god reduced to nothing."
Azarion gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus. He had faced countless battles before, but this was different. The shadow wasn't just a reflection of his strength—it was a manifestation of his failures, his regrets.
The shadow struck again, its attacks relentless. For every move Azarion made, the shadow countered with perfect precision. It was as if it could read his thoughts, anticipate his every action.
"Stop holding back," the shadow said, its voice dripping with scorn. "You were once a god. Prove it."
Azarion's grip tightened on the blade, his frustration mounting. He knew the shadow was trying to provoke him, to push him into losing control.
But anger would not win this fight.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The memories of his exile, his fall, threatened to overwhelm him—but he pushed them aside, focusing instead on the faint hum of the blade in his hand.
The shadow lunged again, its blade aimed for his heart. Azarion stepped forward, his movements calm and deliberate. He parried the strike, his own blade arcing through the air in a precise counterattack.
The shadow staggered, its form flickering as Azarion's blade struck true.
"You fight without anger," the shadow said, its tone surprised. "How?"
Azarion met its gaze, his voice steady. "Anger didn't save me when I fell. It won't save me now."
The shadow's form began to dissolve, its features softening. "Perhaps you are stronger than I thought," it said, its voice fading. "But this is only the beginning."
The void shattered, and Azarion found himself back in the canyon. The oppressive darkness was gone, replaced by the faint glow of the sun.
Sera stood nearby, her expression a mix of relief and confusion. "What just happened?"
Azarion didn't answer immediately. He looked down at the blade in his hand, its glow slightly brighter than before.
"The first trial is over," he said. "But there will be more."
Sera frowned. "And you think you'll survive the next one?"
Azarion sheathed the blade, his expression resolute. "I have to."
As they continued their journey toward the next trial, Azarion couldn't shake the feeling that the shadow had been right. This was only the beginning. And the gods would not make the path to redemption an easy one.