This chapter ended being longer than 2300 words, I hope you enjoy, tonight I finished up at 0144 finally making progress on getting ahead. I plan to use the weekend to get a few chapters ahead and move the plot forward. Please enjoy.
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Keen's bones groaned under an immense pressure, joints grinding and creaking as though ancient iron hinges were being forced apart by an unstoppable force. His muscles twisted and tore, sending sharp, unbearable pain radiating outward as though molten iron had been poured into his veins. His heartbeat thundered, each pulse a relentless drumbeat in his ears, shaking his ribcage and reverberating through his chest like an impending storm.
The air around him crackled with raw energy, the remnants of the cauldron's shattered ritual converging on his trembling form. A blinding red light surged upward, piercing the dim chamber as winds erupted outward from Keen's body. Ancient cabinets burst open, their contents—bundles of herbs, fragile glass vials, dusty tomes—scattered into the vortex, spinning like debris caught in a hurricane.
The air itself thickened, pressing down on everyone in the room with a density that felt suffocating. Breathing became a laborious task. Sweat froze into frost on their brows before melting into steaming rivulets that trickled down their faces. The walls of the chamber trembled under the violent force radiating outward, fine cracks spiderwebbing across their smooth, ancient surfaces. The stone groaned, deep and mournful, like a wounded beast on the edge of collapse.
A guttural roar erupted from Keen—a sound so raw, so primal, it felt like the voice of something far older and wilder than any man. The shockwave that followed sent Elder, Brawl, and Serene crashing to their knees. Elder's walking stick clattered uselessly to the floor as he braced himself against the pressure.
Brawl slammed the butt of his spear into the stone ground, his feet planted wide, his muscles locked against the invisible force threatening to throw him backward. "What in the hells is happening to him?!"
Serene's hair whipped wildly around her face as she clutched the stone floor, her voice trembling. "I... I can't breath!"
But Grey—closest to Keen—was hit hardest. His body was ripped from where he sat and slammed flat against the cold stone bottom of the empty cauldron. His limbs sprawled awkwardly, his head striking hard against the smooth metal. The connection to his heightened vision snapped violently, and for a terrifying moment, his senses were drowned in overwhelming static.
For a brief, agonizing heartbeat, Grey's mind was blank—pure static, like shards of glass scraping against raw nerves. But then, something latched onto him. Keen's energy—wild, raw, and desperate—reached out like a clawed hand, dragging Grey with it. His body convulsed, his vision flickering with sharp bursts of orange light. His mind unraveled and reformed, drawn into the vortex that had engulfed Keen.
It felt like falling—endlessly falling—through a chasm carved from molten light and suffocating shadows. The world bled away, and Grey's consciousness was suddenly... elsewhere.
When his vision stabilized, he was no longer in the chamber. The floor was gone, replaced by swirling clouds of smoke and ash. Flames crackled in the distance, their orange glow casting elongated shadows across the barren ground. The air was thick with dread, the scent of charred wood and iron heavy in his lungs.
Grey realized he wasn't just observing—he was there. In Keen's mind. In his trial.
Keen was there too, his body trembling with pain and exhaustion. Each once of his body glowed with cruel brilliance, the light biting deep into his flesh. His face was twisted in agony, his teeth bared in a silent scream.
Grey stumbled forward, his boots sinking into ash as he reached out instinctively. "Keen!" he shouted, but his voice was swallowed by the oppressive weight of the vision. Keen didn't react, his head hanging low as the storm around them grew stronger.
A tremor ran through the vision, and Grey felt the weight of Keen's torment pressing down on him. The same light that bound Keen now seemed to pull at Grey's limbs, dragging him down, their glow searing against his skin even without contact. It wasn't just Keen facing this trial—the energy binding them had drawn Grey into it, synchronizing their souls, their fears, their regrets.
This was no ordinary vision—it was as if the world, or whatever force governed this tribulation, had amplified Keen's suffering through their connection, and now Grey was being forced to bear it too.
The storm howled louder, the air turning razor-sharp against his skin. Grey clutched his chest, gasping for breath as molten orange light flooded his vision. It was overwhelming—chaotic, yet precise in its cruelty. But through the haze, he could see Keen—his trembling hands reaching for something invisible, his lips moving soundlessly.
"No..." Grey whispered, his voice trembling. "No, I won't let this happen."
With every ounce of focus he could muster, Grey forced his mind to align with Keen's presence
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In the real world, the chaos in the room shifted as the erratic arcs of orange lightning that had erupted from Keen began to change. No longer chaotic, the energy began to form patterns—cruel, deliberate patterns. From the very air, chains of molten light erupted, glowing with the ferocity of a star's core. They wrapped around Keen's wrists, ankles, chest, and neck, pulling taut until his trembling, smoking body was suspended in midair.
His limbs were spread wide, his head hanging low as the burning chains seared deep welts into his flesh. The acrid scent of scorched skin mixed with the sharp tang of ozone. Keen's jaw was clenched so tightly that blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his teeth grinding audibly over the howl of the storm.
Elder's eyes, wide with shock and horror, locked onto Keen's suspended form. The weight of centuries-old knowledge pressed against him as realization seeped into his very soul. His voice cracked, trembling as it rose above the storm. "The legends... they were true. The world—it rejects those who rise above their station. It rejects change!"
But his voice faltered, trembling further as his expression darkened with despair. His wrinkled hands clawed at the air as if trying to grasp something intangible, something slipping away forever.
"No... no, this isn't just rejection. This isn't some trial he can overcome." His voice broke, barely a whisper now, as his knees buckled further under the crushing weight of reality. "It's death. The world isn't testing him—it's killing him."
His frail shoulders sagged under the weight of the words he had spoken, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He reached out a trembling hand toward Keen, as though he could somehow pull the young man from the grip of his torment.
"We're going to lose him..." Elder's voice cracked, the words tumbling out like stones over a precipice. "Just like Bark. Just like so many before him. He's not going to make it."
His grief bled into the air, heavy and palpable, mixing with the swirling chaos that consumed the chamber. Brawl turned sharply, his face twisted with raw fury. "Don't you say that!" he roared. "You don't know that! He's stronger than anyone we've ever known! He'll survive this!"
Serene's voice cracked as her eyes were locked on Keen's suspended body. "No one can survive this... no one..."
From the swirling storm of energy came new shapes—four thin, razor-sharp needles of molten orange light. They hovered around Keen, trembling with anticipation as though they were alive, sentient, and hungry.
The first needle shot forward and pierced Keen's left arm. His body jerked violently, his eyes widening in horror as a vivid memory slammed into his consciousness.
Bark stood atop Elder's roof, the crisp morning light glinting off the frost-slick wooden tiles. His broad grin carried a hint of mischief as he tried to reach its peak.
"Keen, Brawl, stop staring and get up here!" Bark called down, his voice tinged with playful impatience.
"Be careful up there, Bark. The frost hasn't melted yet," Keen replied, his hands tightening on the building, readying to climb himself. Brawl had already started beside him.
"Careful? Since when am I not careful?" Bark laughed, shifting his weight to the edge. His boot slipped, skidding across the slick tile. His grin faltered, replaced by a flash of panic.
"Keen!" Bark's cry pierced the air as he lost his footing entirely.
"No!" Keen screamed, extended his hands along with Brawl, but the distance between them was too great. Bark's body plummeted toward the ground.
Time seemed to slow as Keen's desperate eyes tracked his brother's fall. The sickening crack of bone filled the still air. Bark lay crumpled amidst the broken tiles.
"I-I'm sorry..." Keen stammered, his voice breaking. "I couldn't—"
The world froze, Bark's pale, still face staring upward. The wind carried a cruel whisper: You let him fall.
The second needle drove into his right arm, and another memory exploded in Keen's mind.
The flickering torchlight illuminated the stone clearing where he and Brawl stood, chests heaving, eyes blazing with anger.
"You think you know everything, don't you, Keen?" Brawl spat, his voice filled with venom. "You're so obsessed with being the hero, you can't see you're going to drag us all down."
"I'm trying to protect everyone!" Keen roared back, stepping closer. "Why can't you see that? Why can't you trust me?"
"Trust you?" Brawl laughed bitterly, his fists clenching. "You're telling me to let you become Elder and Betray our traditions. We can't leave, you're too weak to lead everyone out. I am more qualified to protect everyone. We will stay here, under strong leadership."
Keen snapped, his fist flying toward Brawl's face. Brawl dodged easily, countering with a brutal blow to Keen's ribs. Pain shot through him, but he didn't back down. They clashed like wild animals, trading punches and shouting insults.
Finally, Keen hit the ground, blood trickling from his lip. Brawl loomed over him, his shadow stretching long in the torchlight.
"You're not strong enough to lead us," Brawl said coldly. "And you never will be."
Keen's breath caught in his chest as Brawl turned and walked away, leaving him battered and alone. The whisper returned, louder this time: You failed him. You always fail them.
The third needle stabbed into his left leg, and Keen's vision filled with Bark's final moments—His brother, slumped against a tree in the snow, battered and broken. Bark's faint, tired smile as he whispered his son's name—Stone. His chest rising one final time before falling still forever. The shadows whispered, cruel and mocking: You couldn't save him. He trusted you, and you let him die.
The fourth needle plunged into his right leg, and Keen saw a future of devastation.
The village was unrecognizable. The sky burned a furious orange, smoke curling upward like twisted fingers clawing at the heavens. Flames roared through the houses, devouring everything in their path.
Keen stumbled through the chaos, his heart pounding. The acrid stench of smoke and charred wood choked him, the blistering heat searing his skin. Around him lay the bodies—men, women, and children, their lifeless forms sprawled in the snow.
"No..." Keen whispered, his voice trembling. "No, this isn't real. It can't be..."
But the scene felt all too real. Every step he took sank into bloodstained snow. Every breath filled his lungs with despair.
Then he saw them—two small, fragile figures lying side by side in the ash. His wife and daughter, their hands barely touching, their faces pale and still.
"No... please, no..." Keen fell to his knees, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch them. Their skin was cold, unyielding, and lifeless.
Beside his daughter lay a splintered spear, its jagged tip gleaming in the firelight.
From the inferno, a voice spoke—low, cruel, and final: This is your future. This is the price of your failure. End it now, Keen. Join them.
Keen's trembling hands closed around the spear, its weight pressing down on him like the weight of the world.
The trial had pierced directly into Keen's mind and soul, weaponizing his greatest regrets and fears against him. The illusions were not mere images—they were tangible sensations, smells, sounds, and emotions. The smoke clogged his throat, the cold bit into his skin, and the weight of failure crushed his chest. His body and mind could not distinguish the vision from reality.
In the real world, a spear of light formed, descending gently into Keen's hand as the chain binding it snapped away.
Elder's voice cut faintly through the storm, hoarse and desperate. "Keen! Stop! Please! This isn't real!"
Brawl's voice followed, sharp and furious. "You stubborn fool! Bark died so you could live! Are you going to waste it?!"
Serene's voice broke as she screamed, her tears streaking down her face. "Please, Keen... don't let it end like this!"
But their voices felt distant, drowned out by the suffocating weight of despair. Keen raised the broken spear, its jagged point hovering over his chest, his breath shuddering with every inhale.
Then, another voice cut through the chaos—sharp, clear, and familiar.
"STOP!"
Keen's eyes snapped open, his head jerking upward.
"Where... where are you?"
"This isn't real, Keen!" Grey's voice rang out, desperate but resolute. "You can't give up here. You'll only fail if you abandon them now. Fight, Keen. Fight for Bark. Fight for your family!"
Through the swirling smoke, shadows shifted and coalesced into the form of a massive black wolf. Its molten orange eyes burned with primal hunger, its fangs gleaming like blades in the storm's light.
Keen's grip on the spear tightened. His jaw set. His breathing steadied.
"Never again!" he roared.
With all his strength, Keen hurled the spear. It struck true, burying itself in the wolf's glowing eye. The beast howled, staggering backward, its form flickering and destabilizing.
The chamber exploded with a blinding orange light. The chains snapped, the needles dissolved, and the storm finally fell silent.
When the light faded, Keen stood tall, his body unmarred, his chest rising and falling steadily. His skin glowed faintly with an intense orange light, and his eyes burned with quiet determination.
"I won't break. Not here. Not now. I'll carry you with me, Bark. And I'll protect them all—for both of us."
Elder's voice trembled as he whispered, "He has... broken through. Despite everything, he rose above it."
Brawl exhaled sharply. "You stubborn bastard..."
Serene gazed in awe. "He did it... He really did it..."
The air hung heavy with the echoes of triumph—a moment carved into legend.
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I am really enjoying fleshing out the power system, but I hope the chapters are not becoming too slow. I have been adding dialogue to scenes I feel are too heavy with explanations, but I fear this story is delving into a slow burn. I will work on increasing the excitement. Please look forward to the next chapter. If you enjoyed, vote, comment, and follow. Thank you for reading.