The wind screamed through the Weeping Hills like a dying god's wail.
I tightened the black wolf-fur cloak around my shoulders, the one my not-father gave me. It reeked of smoke and dried blood—but it was warm, and I needed that now. Snow fell harder with every step, and the sky was nothing but ash and cold fire.
The sword strapped to my back—the Fang of Silence, as I'd started calling it—kept humming faintly. A steady pulse. A heartbeat. My heartbeat, maybe.
I was three days out from the ruins of our cabin, following a cracked stone compass that spun like it was drunk—until it passed over a certain direction and glowed faint green. That was the way.
The Black Pines.
They rose from the horizon like spears stabbed into the world. Hundreds of them. Towering, ancient, some wide as a house. Their bark was midnight black, and their branches seemed to bleed sap like ink.
The closer I got, the more wrong the air felt. It wasn't just cold. It was empty. No birds. No wolves. No sound but wind and the creaking of trees that shouldn't be moving.
That's when the voice came.
"Why do you approach the forest of the condemned?"
It wasn't spoken out loud. It was inside my skull. Ancient. Judging. Like the forest itself was speaking to me.
"I'm here to find Alectra," I said aloud. "She trained the man who raised me."
The trees groaned.
"And what makes you think she'll suffer your presence, spawn of banished gods?"
I stopped.
"I don't care if she suffers it or not. I'm not leaving without answers."
Silence.
Then the trees opened.
Literally.
Two massive trunks creaked apart, groaning like dying giants. A path formed between them—narrow, twisting, and pitch black.
I stepped in.
Instantly, the air changed. Heavier. Wet. Like breathing through soaked cloth. The light from the sky above was devoured by the canopy. Shadows danced without reason, and the further I walked, the less sure I was of the ground beneath me. Sometimes it felt like soil. Sometimes stone. Sometimes something that… pulsed.
Then the smell hit me.
Blood.
Fresh.
I drew the sword.
A howl tore through the woods. Not a wolf. Not anything I'd ever heard.
I turned—and something leapt from the shadows.
Fast. Seven feet tall. Bone-white limbs, skin like stretched leather, no eyes—just a mouth that opened from chin to scalp, filled with serrated teeth.
I slashed.
Steel met flesh. The creature screeched, rearing back, black blood spraying across the snow.
Another dropped from above. Then a third.
The forest was alive with them.
I spun, dodging a claw swipe, ducking low, driving the sword through the ribs of the nearest one. Its body convulsed—then shattered into ash.
I didn't wait.
I moved. Fast. Blade humming. My blood sang.
One charged me. I rolled beneath its lunge and drove my sword straight up into its throat.
Boom.
A shockwave burst out. My sword had absorbed something—energy, force, divinity—from the last creature, and released it in a pulse that vaporized the next two.
But the forest wasn't done.
The path ahead lit with blue fire—sudden and unnatural. The flames curled around a stone archway carved into the base of an ancient tree.
I stepped through it, and the world shifted.
Suddenly, I was standing on a stone platform suspended in midair, surrounded by nothing but stars and void.
Across from me stood a woman in black and silver armor, draped in a tattered cloak made of crow feathers. Her face was pale and sharp. Her hair was white as bone, and her eyes were voids.
She studied me in silence.
Then she spoke.
"You brought the Fang."
Her voice wasn't warm. It wasn't cruel either. Just… final. Like judgment carved in stone.
"You're Alectra?" I asked.
She nodded once. "The one who raised you taught you nothing of battle."
"I killed three beasts in the forest."
She raised an eyebrow. "That was the forest testing your blood. Not your blade."
I stepped forward. "I'm here for answers. For power. To survive what's coming."
She looked me over, then extended a hand. "Then step forward, son of Neryssa and Zepharion. Let the Trial begin."
The platform beneath me glowed. Symbols—runes in a language I didn't know but somehow understood—lit up in a circle.
Then I fell.
No warning.
Just falling—through light, shadow, fire, ice—and then I hit the ground.
Hard.
Dust kicked up. Stone cracked beneath me.
I was in a coliseum. Giant. Empty stands all around. Above, a blood-red sky with no sun.
In front of me stood something impossible.
A minotaur.
But not the kind from books.
This one wore iron armor fused to its flesh. Its horns were molten gold. Its eyes burned with fire, and it dragged a greathammer behind it that sparked against the floor.
A voice echoed from the sky—Alectra's voice.
"Your parents were gods forgotten by time. But divinity is not inherited. It is earned."
The minotaur charged.
I ran to the side, just in time to dodge the hammer. It hit the ground and shattered a twenty-foot crater.
No time to think.
I slashed. My sword met its shoulder. Sparks flew. It roared, spinning with terrifying speed.
The hammer came down again—I raised my sword—
Clang!
The impact threw me backward like a ragdoll.
I hit the coliseum wall, gasping. My ribs screamed.
The minotaur was already charging again.
I focused. Closed my eyes. Let the sword hum.
And I remembered what the man who raised me once said: "The sword responds to will, not strength."
I let go of fear. Let go of pain.
And stepped into the storm.
The next moment, everything slowed.
The minotaur's swing crawled through the air like syrup.
I dodged. Then struck.
My blade carved through its side, sparks flying.
It roared—but this time, it bled.
Black and gold.
It swung again—I ducked under and slammed the blade into its knee.
It dropped.
Then I jumped.
Sword overhead. My scream echoing with the rage of forgotten bloodlines.
SLASH.
Straight down the center of its chest.
The coliseum lit up with fire.
The beast shattered—exploding into embers.
Silence.
Then I was back on the floating platform.
Alectra stood before me, arms crossed.
"You passed."
I dropped to one knee, breathing hard. "What… was that?"
"The first of many trials. That one tested your instinct. The next will test your loyalty."
I stood. "Why are you helping me?"
She walked past me. "Because your mother saved me. Once. Long ago."
"She still alive?"
Alectra looked back.
"She was. Until the pantheons imprisoned her in the Eternal Abyss. She lives—barely. Chained by the laws of gods who feared her."
A chill ran down my spine.
"What about my father?"
She smiled faintly. "He was never caught."
The stars around us flickered.
"You are their last move," she said. "Their only chance."
"For what?"
"To tear open the gates of the Divine Conclave… and remind the gods why they sealed your bloodline away."