The grand hall of the Stormborn Clan buzzed with whispers and expectation. Young disciples stood in a line before the Pillar of Lightning, their faces tense as the test began.

It was a sacred tradition. On their 15th birthday, each disciple placed their hand on the Pillar of Lightning, proving their worth by igniting at least three of its nine holes. Those who succeeded earned a place among the Stormborn Clan.

Those who failed… were cast out, their exile considered an offering to the spirits, meant to shield the clan from the Gashadokuro - Massive skeletal creatures formed from the bones of those who died of starvation or in battle without proper burial rites.vengeful spirits that embody the anger and suffering of the dead.

Today was Kaleb Fulgur's 15th birthday.

He stood at the back of the line, his stomach twisted in knots. The murmurs of the crowd echoed in his ears, their words filled with judgment and doubt.

"The weakest son of the Fulgur family," someone whispered. "I'll be surprised if the pillar even flickers."

Kaleb clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He tried to block out the voices, focusing instead on the disciples ahead of him.

One by one, they stepped forward, placing their hands on the cold stone. The pillar lit up with arcs of blue energy, lightning sparking through three, four, even five of the small holes carved into its surface.

Kaleb's chest tightened as he watched. The more holes that lit, the more powerful the disciple's spiritual core. Anything less than three was considered a failure.

"The test is simple," Eldrin Zephyrus, the clan elder, had said earlier, his voice cold and final. "At least three holes must ignite to demonstrate the strength of your spiritual core. Anything less… means exile."

Kaleb stared ahead as the line shrank, each disciple stepping away with relief or quiet tears. He could feel the weight of expectation pressing down on him, not just from his peers but from the unspoken fear in the hall.

When the line dwindled to Kaleb, his heart pounded so loud he thought it might drown out the whispers. His palms were slick with sweat as he stepped forward, every pair of eyes in the room fixed on him.

His parents stood at the back of the hall, their faces impassive. His mother glanced away, her sapphire-blue eyes filled with something Kaleb couldn't read. His father stood rigid, his arms crossed, his expression like stone.

Kaleb swallowed hard, placing his trembling hand on the pillar. The cold stone hummed faintly beneath his palm, and he closed his eyes, focusing all his energy.

For a moment, nothing happened. The hall fell silent, the tension thick enough to choke.

Then, a faint flicker of light appeared in the lowest hole. It sputtered weakly before fading, leaving the pillar dark once more.

Gasps and murmurs erupted from the crowd. Kaleb's chest tightened as he pulled his hand back, his heart pounding in his ears.

"Nothing," one of the elders muttered, her voice laced with disdain. "Not even a spark."

Eldrin stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Kaleb Fulgur," he said, his tone flat. "You have failed the test."

Kaleb opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. His gaze darted to his parents, but they didn't move.

Eldrin raised his hand, silencing the crowd. "However," he continued, his voice sharp, "the clan elders have decided to grant you one final chance."

Kaleb's breath hitched, his heart leaping with cautious hope. "A chance?" he whispered.

Eldrin nodded, his piercing gaze locking onto Kaleb's. "There is a spirit beast dwelling in the Shadowed Glade," he said. "Slay it, and you may remain in the clan."

The hall erupted again, the whispers turning to incredulous murmurs. Kaleb barely heard them, his mind racing. The Shadowed Glade was known for its deadly beasts, creatures far beyond the abilities of a normal disciple.

Before Kaleb could respond, a voice cut through the noise. "Then we must give him a fighting chance." It was Vorrick Fulgur, Kaleb's uncle, stepping forward with a confident smile.

The crowd parted as Vorrick approached, his tall frame exuding an air of quiet authority. "A task like this is no small feat," Vorrick said, his voice calm and encouraging. "But with the right tool, it can be done."

Kaleb glanced at Vorrick, hope flickering in his chest. Vorrick rarely spoke to him, but when he did, it was often to guide or inspire. His words now felt genuine, a lifeline in a sea of doubt.

Vorrick reached into a long, dark cloak draped over his shoulders and withdrew a weapon wrapped in fine silk. He held it out, letting the cloth fall away to reveal a curved blade gleaming in the firelight.

The runes etched into its surface shimmered faintly, as though alive with hidden power. The sight drew murmurs of approval from the crowd, and even Eldrin's eyes narrowed slightly.

"This blade," Vorrick said, his tone steady, "has been in the Fulgur family for generations. It has seen many battles and helped turn weakness into strength."

Kaleb hesitated, his gaze flickering between the weapon and his uncle. "You're… giving this to me?" he asked softly.

Vorrick nodded, his expression warm and reassuring. "You're my nephew," he said. "It's my duty to see you succeed. Take it, Kaleb. Prove yourself."

Kaleb gripped the blade tightly, the faint hum of its energy coursing through his fingers. "Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Vorrick placed a firm hand on Kaleb's shoulder, his grip both steadying and encouraging. "Remember," he said, leaning in slightly, "strength isn't just in the weapon. It's in your heart. Go, and show the clan what you're capable of."

Eldrin motioned for the guards to escort Kaleb out. "The path is clear," he said. "Prove your worth, or face the consequences of failure."

Kaleb stepped forward, the blade feeling heavier with every step. But Vorrick's words stayed with him, a faint spark of hope kindling in his chest.

...The Shadowed Glade loomed before Kaleb, its dark trees twisting like jagged spears into the sky. Shadows swallowed the faint light, and every sound felt louder in the oppressive silence.

Kaleb gripped the blade tightly, its faint hum his only companion as he pressed deeper into the forest. His breath came in short puffs, his heart racing with every step.

He followed the signs of the spirit beast: claw marks etched into tree trunks and patches of trampled earth. The tension in his chest tightened with each step, dread settling over him like a heavy cloak.

A low growl rumbled in the distance, deep and bone-chilling. Kaleb froze, his eyes darting toward the sound as his grip tightened on the hilt of the blade.

But instead of the expected shadow of a beast, a towering skeletal figure emerged from the darkness. Its enormous frame, composed of jagged bones , loomed over the forest like a titan. Empty sockets burned with fiery red orbs, it released a guttural screech that shook the air.

Kaleb's blood ran cold. "That's not… a beast," he whispered, his voice trembling. "A Gashadokuro?"

The towering demon's gaze locked onto Kaleb, its grin wide as it stepped forward. The ground trembled beneath its massive skeletal feet, each step accompanied by the clatter of shifting bones.

Panic surged through Kaleb as he backed away, his trembling legs barely holding him upright. "This wasn't… they didn't say I'd face this," he stammered, sweat pouring down his face.

The cursed weapon in his hand flickered weakly, its faint glow almost mocking in its insignificance against the towering demon. Kaleb steadied his breath, forcing himself to stand firm. "No," he muttered, trying to rally his courage. "I can't fail."

The Gashadokuro's massive arm shot forward. Kaleb dove to the side, the claws slicing cleanly through the tree he had stood in front of moments before.

Scrambling to his feet, Kaleb swung the blade with every ounce of strength he had. Sparks flew as it struck the Gashadokuro's bony arm, leaving a faint crack but little else.

The demon barely flinched. Instead, it swiveled its skull toward him. With a single sweep of its arm, it sent Kaleb tumbling through the air like a broken doll.

Kaleb hit the ground hard, the air forced from his lungs. His grip on the blade remained tight, but a faint crack ran along its edge. "No," he muttered, his voice shaky as he scrambled to his knees.

The demon loomed over him, its jagged teeth chattering in laughter. It raised its foot, slamming it down toward Kaleb, who rolled away just in time. Dirt and rocks flew everywhere as the ground cracked under the force.

Kaleb lashed out with the blade, aiming for the demon's exposed side. The runes on the weapon flickered as it struck, chipping away one of the massive bones with a sharp crack.

The Gashadokuro howled, its skeletal frame vibrating with fury. It lashed out again, catching Kaleb's side. The blow sent him sprawling, his body sliding across the dirt toward the edge of a ravine.

Kaleb's back hit a jagged rock, his eyes darted toward the ravine behind him, its edge a sheer drop into shadowy depths. An idea sparked in his mind as he pushed himself to his feet, griping the cracked blade.

The demon lunged, its claws tearing through the dirt as it closed the distance. Kaleb sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the attack, and scrambled toward the ravine's edge.

"Come on," he muttered, his breath ragged as he positioned himself. "Just a little closer."

The Gashadokuro stalked forward, its glowing eyes locked onto him. Kaleb taunted the demon with a weak swing of the blade, the weapon cracking further as sparks flew. "Is that all you've got?" he shouted, forcing a defiant grin.

The demon roared, raising both arms for a devastating strike. Kaleb stood his ground until the last possible moment. As the claws descended, he leaped to the side, rolling across the ground as the Gashadokuro's momentum carried it forward.

The ground beneath the demon's massive feet crumbled. The Gashadokuro plunged into the ravine, its skeletal frame shattering against the jagged rocks far below. The sound of its fall echoed through the glade before fading into silence.

Kaleb lay on the ground, his chest heaving as he stared at the ravine. A shaky laugh escaped his lips as relief washed over him. "I did it," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I actually did it."

He pushed himself to his feet, wincing as pain lanced through his side. "Time to go back," he muttered, brushing dirt from his clothes. "They'll have to let me stay after this."

The forest around him seemed calm now, the eerie tension from before replaced by an almost peaceful stillness. Kaleb adjusted his satchel, his mind already turning to how he would explain the fight to the elders. "They won't believe it," he said with a faint smile. "But they'll have to."

A faint rustle in the undergrowth caught his attention. Kaleb froze, his senses sharpened from the recent battle. He turned slowly, his hand instinctively reaching for the useless blade at his side.

Before he could fully react, a shadow moved swiftly behind him. There was no sound, no warning. A sharp pain lanced through his back, spreading like fire as his vision blurred.

Kaleb's knees buckled, the ground rushing up to meet him. His thoughts spiraled, confusion mixing with the fading remnants of hope.

He didn't understand what had happened; everything had been fine just moments before. The world dimmed around him, the forest fading into darkness.

A shadowy figure stepped from the shadows, his expression cold as he wiped the blood from his dagger. He stared down at Kaleb's lifeless form, his gaze unreadable.

He crouched beside the body, taking a moment to adjust Kaleb's satchel as if he cared. "You should have stayed weak," the man whispered, standing and slipping back into the shadows…