The temple loomed on the edge of the cliff, its stone walls weathered by time and the relentless elements. Ivy crept up its sides like the fingers of some ancient beast trying to reclaim its prey. From a distance, it seemed almost peaceful—if Sam hadn't just fought off a dragon and narrowly avoided becoming a scorch mark.
"So, this is it," they muttered, clutching the box tightly. "The magical temple that's supposed to hold all the answers."
The box pulsed faintly, as if agreeing. Sam gave it a skeptical look. "You sure? Because it looks more like an abandoned birdhouse."
The box ignored the jab, its glow dimming slightly as if saving its strength. Sam sighed, shaking their head. "Alright, fine. Lead the way, oh great artifact of destiny."
The cliff path was narrow, flanked by jagged rocks and a steep drop into the mist-shrouded abyss below. The wind tugged at Sam's clothes, and they hugged the wall as they moved, trying not to look down. Each step felt heavier than the last, the exhaustion from the fight with the dragon catching up with them.
When they finally reached the temple's entrance, Sam paused to catch their breath. The doorway was arched, its frame carved with intricate runes that glowed faintly in the twilight. The box pulsed softly in their hands, and the runes responded, their light growing brighter.
"Well, at least you've got the key," Sam muttered, stepping closer. The runes shimmered, and the heavy stone doors groaned as they began to slide open. A rush of cold air spilled out, carrying the faint scent of earth and something metallic.
Sam hesitated at the threshold. The interior of the temple was pitch black, the kind of darkness that seemed to swallow light whole. The box pulsed again, and Sam could feel a subtle warmth radiating from it, as if urging them forward.
"Yeah, yeah," they said, taking a cautious step inside. "No need to push."
The air inside the temple was heavy, almost oppressive. Sam's footsteps echoed against the stone floor, each sound magnified in the silence. The walls were lined with faded murals, their details obscured by centuries of grime. They depicted scenes of battle and fire, of figures holding aloft glowing artifacts—artifacts that looked eerily similar to the box in Sam's hands.
"Guess this thing's been around for a while," they muttered, running a finger along one of the murals. The dust clung to their skin, and they wiped it off on their pants. "Would've been nice if the chosen one mentioned that."
The box pulsed, its light cutting through the gloom and illuminating a narrow hallway ahead. Sam followed it, their steps slow and deliberate. The deeper they went, the colder the air became, and they couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them.
The hallway ended in a circular chamber, its walls lined with more glowing runes. In the center of the room stood a pedestal, and atop it rested an ornate, jewel-encrusted gauntlet. The box pulsed sharply, its light growing brighter as if drawn to the artifact.
Sam stopped at the edge of the chamber, eyeing the gauntlet warily. "Alright, what's the catch? There's always a catch."
The box didn't respond, but its glow became almost insistent. Sam sighed, stepping closer. The runes on the walls flared as they approached, casting the room in an eerie blue light. The gauntlet seemed to hum softly, its jewels shimmering like liquid fire.
"Looks important," Sam said, reaching out cautiously. "Let me guess—this is supposed to help me save the world, right?"
As soon as their fingers brushed the gauntlet, a sharp jolt of energy shot through them. Sam yelped, stumbling back as the chamber erupted with light. The runes on the walls swirled, forming patterns that seemed to dance and shift. The pedestal trembled, and the gauntlet lifted into the air, its jewels glowing brighter with each passing second.
"Okay, maybe I shouldn't have touched that," Sam muttered, shielding their eyes.
A voice echoed through the chamber, low and resonant. "Who dares disturb the Trial of the Herald?"
Sam froze. "Uh… hi? Just passing through. No need for trials or whatever."
The light coalesced into a humanoid figure, its features obscured by a cloak of shifting energy. Its eyes burned like twin stars, and its voice reverberated through the room. "Only the worthy may wield the Relic of the First Light. Prove yourself, or be consumed."
Sam groaned. "Of course. A trial. Because nothing can ever be easy."
The figure raised a hand, and the air around Sam shimmered. The runes on the walls detached, swirling around them like a storm. The box in their hands pulsed frantically, and Sam felt a surge of warmth spread through their chest.
"Alright, box," they muttered. "Let's see what you've got."
The first rune shot toward them like a spear, and Sam barely managed to dodge. The box flared, releasing a burst of light that struck the rune, shattering it into sparks. More runes followed, darting through the air like angry hornets. Sam ducked and weaved, relying on the box's guidance as it deflected the attacks with bursts of light.
"Is this really necessary?" Sam yelled, dodging another rune. "Can't we skip to the part where I save the world?"
The figure didn't answer. It raised both hands, and the runes merged into a massive, glowing orb that hovered above the chamber. The orb pulsed ominously, its light growing brighter as it prepared to strike.
Sam's heart pounded. The box pulsed rapidly, its glow intensifying as if urging them to act. Sam gritted their teeth, gripping the artifact tightly. "Alright, fine. Let's finish this."
The orb shot toward them, and Sam raised the box just as it made contact. The impact sent a shockwave through the chamber, and for a moment, everything was blinding light and deafening noise. When the light finally faded, Sam was on their knees, gasping for breath. The gauntlet lay in front of them, its glow soft and inviting.
The figure's voice echoed one last time. "You have passed the Trial. The Relic is yours. Use it wisely, Herald of Light."
Sam stared at the gauntlet, their chest heaving. "Herald of Light? That's… that's what we're going with?"
The figure faded, leaving Sam alone in the chamber. They reached out hesitantly, picking up the gauntlet. It was surprisingly light, and as they slipped it onto their hand, a wave of warmth surged through them.
"Alright," Sam muttered, flexing their fingers. "Guess it's official. Plan B for destiny. Let's see where this goes."