⚔️ Chapter 9 — Shadows in the Courtyard
Kael Ardyn didn't sleep well that night. The training yard, empty and silent under the moon, seemed to echo in his mind. Every swing of the sword he'd practiced that day felt heavier than before—not in weight, but in consequence.
When dawn broke, Valenhold Academy's courtyard was shrouded in mist. Knights-in-training moved like phantoms through the fog, their armor clanking softly, but something felt… wrong.
Kael's instincts tingled, a cold whisper crawling along his spine. He wasn't alone.
From the shadows near the eastern wall, a figure watched him. Small, hooded, impossible to identify from this distance—but the figure didn't move like a student. It was patient, calculating.
Kael swallowed. "Who's there?" he called, trying to sound braver than he felt.
The figure stepped forward. A girl, perhaps a year younger, with dark eyes that seemed to pierce through him. She didn't answer. Instead, she dropped something at his feet and vanished before he could react.
Kael crouched and picked it up. It was a small scroll, sealed with black wax stamped with a symbol he didn't recognize: a serpent coiled around a sword.
Before he could examine it further, the instructor's booming voice cut across the courtyard.
"Ardyn! Today, you face your final trial before promotion!"
Kael's heart sank. The final trial was notoriously brutal, testing not only skill but cunning, endurance, and control over fear itself. And now… a mysterious warning had been delivered directly to him.
As he made his way to the arena, he noticed whispers spreading among the students. Some were glancing at him strangely; others avoided eye contact entirely. Rumors traveled faster than the wind at Valenhold. Kael sensed suspicion—perhaps even jealousy—following him like a shadow.
Inside the arena, the trial began. Knights-in-training fought in pairs, each match escalating in intensity. Kael's opponent was a tall boy named Riven, known for his aggressive style and cunning. Every strike from Riven seemed designed not to wound, but to break Kael's rhythm.
But Kael's mind kept drifting to the scroll. Could it be a warning? Or a trap? And what did that symbol mean? He had no time to dwell—the fight was relentless.
Riven feinted a strike to Kael's side, and Kael barely dodged, the steel whispering past his ribs. The crowd gasped. Sweat burned his eyes, but something deeper than fear coursed through him: a strange energy, like the weight of the scroll had awakened something inside him.
Kael's vision sharpened. He saw Riven's stance before the attack, predicted the trajectory, and countered with a swift strike that knocked Riven off balance. The arena erupted in murmurs—Kael was pushing past his limits, and everyone could see it.
But the tension wasn't over. From the shadows of the gallery, Kael noticed another pair of eyes watching him. A man cloaked in black, with a mask covering half his face. He didn't belong to the academy. And he was smiling.
Something about that smile made Kael's stomach twist. He was no longer just fighting for promotion. He was a target, and the real danger had only just begun.
As Riven scrambled to recover, Kael felt a whisper of wind against his ear. A voice, low and unfamiliar:
"Not everyone at Valenhold is who they seem. Trust no one."
Kael froze, spinning—but the voice was gone.
The final trial wasn't just a test of skill anymore. It was a game of survival, and Kael had no idea who—or what—he was really up against.