The mist had swallowed them completely. The shadowed gate closed behind with a crack that echoed like thunder across invisible plains.
Salemadon led, feeling the pulse of Pahtem beneath his armor. It throbbed faintly, warning him of danger ahead. The void beyond the gate was not empty. It reacted to their presence, bending space and light. Every step forward felt like walking on the edge of something alive.
Brughan stumbled again, gripping his chest. "I feel… dizzy… like the world's spinning."
Althara's Threads wrapped around his wrist, steadying him. "It's normal. The Trial adjusts to you. It tests your mind and body."
Salemadon's eyes scanned the void. Shifting shapes formed in the mist—twisting illusions, flickering like memories made solid. He could feel them tugging at his mind.
THE FIRST ILLUSION
A figure appeared before them. At first glance, it looked like Salemadon himself—but older, scarred, and grim. Its eyes glowed the same faint light as Pahtem.
Salemadon froze. Threads pulsed automatically, bracing him.
The figure spoke in a low, hollow voice:
"You think you are ready. But what will you sacrifice?"
Salemadon clenched his fists. "I'm ready for anything."
The illusion smirked, stepping closer. Then it split into multiple versions of him, each one moving independently, surrounding him from all sides.
Brughan gasped. "It's… him… but not him!"
Althara whispered, "This is the Trial. It's showing you possibilities… and consequences."
Salemadon didn't hesitate. He extended Pahtem lightly, sending threads outward, touching each figure. They shimmered and flickered, then dissolved, leaving faint echoes in the mist.
THE TEST OF TRUST
The path narrowed suddenly. Floating stones, invisible until touched, formed a bridge across a dark abyss.
Brughan froze. "I can't see… how do we step?"
Salemadon's voice was calm. "Trust the Threads. Focus on my lead."
Step by step, Salemadon moved across the floating stones. Each step caused the mist to pulse and ripple. Shadows reached for them, stretching like black hands, but the Threads shifted the shadows away just enough to let them pass.
Althara followed carefully, her Threads glimmering like silver light. Brughan hesitated, almost falling into the void, but Salemadon caught him in a pulse of energy.
The abyss below seemed endless. Salemadon could feel the weight of it pressing against him, testing his courage.
THE CONSEQUENCE REVEALED
A whisper traveled through the mist:
"Every choice has a price."
Suddenly, the floating stones began to collapse behind them. The path they came from vanished instantly.
Brughan's face went pale. "We… we can't go back!"
Salemadon didn't answer. He focused on the next stone, stretching Threads forward, anchoring their path. Each stone they stepped on responded to Pahtem's energy, glowing faintly, stabilizing beneath their feet.
A shadow surged from below. Its shape was amorphous, flickering between black and white, testing their balance.
Salemadon moved with it, weaving Threads through the mist. Althara followed, her hands glowing. Brughan stumbled, nearly hitting the void, but Salemadon grabbed him, steadying him with a thread of energy.
THE REAL TEST BEGINS
They reached the center of the void, where the mist was thickest. A massive platform floated above the abyss. On it, a symbol of balance glowed—a circle divided in black and white, spinning slowly.
Salemadon stepped onto it. Pahtem pulsed stronger now, vibrating through his armor. The shadows around them froze, then surged at his legs.
He leapt, Threads stretching like arms to catch the shadows, redirecting them. One tendril hit Brughan's ankle. Salemadon yanked it, saving him just in time.
Althara's Threads shimmered brightly, connecting with his own. "Together," she whispered.
A pulse of light shot from the platform. The spinning circle projected images into the mist—visions of what could happen if they fail.
Brughan falling into endless darkness.
Althara disappearing into the void.
Salemadon himself consumed by shadows.
He felt fear—but instead of faltering, he focused on each step, each motion. Pahtem flared with him, responding to courage, not instinctive attack.
THE FIRST CONSEQUENCE HITS
The platform shook violently. A fissure opened beneath Brughan, swallowing half of the stone beneath his feet.
Brughan shouted. "Help!"
Salemadon lunged, Threads wrapping around Brughan like a lifeline. He pulled him onto safe ground, but the strain made his Threads glow faintly red—warning him of overuse.
Althara moved next, stepping onto a floating shard. The mist twisted around her, pulling slightly. Salemadon reached her instantly, anchoring her with his Threads.
The shadows roared, swirling into a vortex around them. The spinning symbol on the platform flashed white, then black.
Salemadon realized—the Trial doesn't just test skill, it tests endurance, focus, and balance.
CLIFFHANGER
A whisper filled the void, louder this time:
"The price of balance is life itself. Choose wisely."
A dark hand stretched from the spinning symbol, pointing directly at Salemadon. Pahtem flared violently. Threads extended instinctively, bracing him—but the shadow seemed to pull at his very essence.
Salemadon's jaw tightened. He whispered to himself:
"No matter the cost… I will move forward."
The mist roared. The spinning platform tilted. Darkness reached for them.
And then—everything went still.
Every choice has a cost. Salemadon is about to learn that firsthand.
The Trial had begun. Every step held risk. Every choice had a cost. Salemadon was no longer just walking through danger—he was becoming it.