“Well, I don’t know about you,” Finn said, glancing around the eerie chamber, “but I’m starting to feel like we’ve done this whole ‘final trial’ thing a bit too many times.”
Lysandra smirked, though her eyes were scanning the walls, covered in ancient inscriptions glowing faintly in the dim light. “Is that your way of saying you’re tired of saving the world?”
Finn shrugged dramatically, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m just saying, maybe a nice, quiet life with a tavern and some good ale wouldn’t be so bad right now.”
Alaric, still favoring his injured side but standing strong, gave Finn a half-smile. “I’d settle for a battle where we’re not facing down an ancient evil with the power to destroy everything.”
Maelis, ever serious, stood at the entrance to the chamber, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. “We’ll save the tavern for later. Right now, we need to figure out how to pass this final trial.”
The room was silent save for the flickering glow of the inscriptions. The air felt heavy, not with physical weight but with the weight of memories—of past mistakes, regrets, and fears. It was as if the very air pressed down on their hearts.
“This place,” Lysandra murmured, her voice soft, “it’s... alive. It feels like it knows us.”
Alaric nodded, his gaze moving across the room. “This is the final test. It’s not about strength or skill. It’s about will. We’re going to be confronted with everything we’ve been running from.”
Maelis looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You mean, we’re going to have to face ourselves?”
He met her gaze, his expression grim. “Yes. And we’ll have to forgive ourselves for what we’ve done... and each other.”
A heavy silence followed, the weight of his words sinking in. They had all made sacrifices. They had all seen things they wished they could forget. And here, in this chamber, it was as if those memories were stirring, ready to rise to the surface.
“So,” Finn said, breaking the silence, “we’re about to have some sort of emotional showdown with ourselves, huh? Great. I’m excellent at avoiding those.”
Lysandra rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. “I think that’s the point, Finn. No more running.”
Before anyone could respond, the air in the chamber shifted. The walls pulsed with a deep, resonant hum, and suddenly, the room around them began to change. The glow of the inscriptions flared brighter, and the ground beneath their feet trembled.
“Here we go,” Alaric muttered.
The walls faded, replaced by swirling mists, and one by one, each of them found themselves standing alone in their own personal memory. The others vanished from sight, leaving them each to face their darkest regrets.
Lysandra
She stood in the middle of a battlefield, the echoes of swords clashing and soldiers shouting ringing in her ears. But this wasn’t just any battle. It was the battle she had lost—the one where her comrades had fallen, and she had been powerless to save them.
The ground beneath her was soaked in blood, and the bodies of her fallen friends lay scattered around her. She could hear their voices—accusing, hurt, wondering why she hadn’t done more.
“I did everything I could,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I tried.”
But the faces of her friends remained, their eyes filled with disappointment.
“You left us,” one of them said, the words cutting into her like a blade.
Lysandra closed her eyes, willing the voices away. She had carried this guilt for so long, blaming herself for their deaths, believing that if she had been stronger, smarter, they might have survived.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears pricking at her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
The voices faded, replaced by silence. When she opened her eyes again, the battlefield was gone, and she was standing back in the chamber. The weight of the guilt had lifted, just a little.
Alaric
He stood before the gates of a city—a city he had failed to protect. The flames still flickered in the distance, and the cries of the people echoed in his mind. This was the moment he had lost everything—the moment he had realized that no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t save everyone.
“You let them die,” a voice said, cold and unfeeling.
Alaric clenched his fists. “I didn’t let them die. I tried to save them.”
“But you failed.”
He had failed. He had made mistakes, and those mistakes had cost lives. But standing here now, he realized something—he had never forgiven himself for it.
“I made mistakes,” he said quietly, his voice steady, “but I’m still here. And I’m still fighting.”
The city faded, and he found himself back in the chamber, the weight on his heart a little lighter.
Finn
He was back in his village, the place he had left behind long ago. The streets were empty, and the houses looked abandoned. This was the moment he had fled—when he had run from responsibility, from fear, from everything that had ever mattered.
“You ran away,” a voice whispered in his ear. “You always run.”
Finn swallowed hard, the guilt and fear rising in his throat. He had always tried to laugh it off, to hide behind his jokes, but deep down, he knew the truth.
“I wasn’t ready,” he muttered, his voice shaking. “I wasn’t strong enough.”
“You never will be.”
Finn closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe. “Maybe not. But I’m here now. And I’m not running anymore.”
The village faded, and Finn found himself back with the others, his heart racing but his mind clearer than it had been in years.
Maelis
She stood before a mirror, her reflection staring back at her with cold, unfeeling eyes. This was her darkest fear—that the warrior she had become was no different from the enemies she had slain.
“You’re a killer,” the reflection hissed, its voice venomous. “You take lives without hesitation. You’ve lost your humanity.”
Maelis stared at the reflection, her heart pounding. She had spent so long fighting, so long doing whatever it took to protect the light. But had she lost herself in the process?
“I fight for the light,” she said, her voice firm. “I fight to protect, not to destroy.”
The reflection sneered. “You’re no different.”
Maelis clenched her fists, her eyes hardening. “I know who I am.”
The reflection shattered, and she was back in the chamber, standing with the others.
They had passed the test.
The mists cleared, and the chamber reformed around them. Each of them had faced their darkest memories, their deepest regrets, and had come through the other side. Stronger. Wiser.
“We did it,” Finn said, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “We actually did it.”
But before they could celebrate, the ground beneath them shook violently. A low, ominous rumble filled the air, and they looked up to see the sky above the chamber split open—a rift forming in the clouds, dark and foreboding.
From the rift, they could see the shapes of Malakhor’s forces descending upon them—an army of darkness ready to strike.
Lysandra’s eyes widened as she turned to the others, her voice filled with urgency. “They’re coming. We need to move.”
Alaric’s jaw tightened, his hand gripping his sword. “We’ve faced the darkness before, but this time, it’s different. We have to be stronger.”
Maelis nodded, her eyes steely with determination. “We’re ready.”
Finn, his usual bravado returning, flashed a grin. “I guess the tavern will have to wait a bit longer.”
The rift in the sky widened, and the shadows began to descend.