Chapter 18 – The Eve of the Trial
The air of Revenak shimmered beneath an early dusk.
The Light veins that ran through the kingdom pulsed like slow rivers, carrying warmth through marble streets and glass towers.
For once, there was no battle cry, no training bell—just calm.
John and Tamara walked side by side through the city's upper tier, the twin moons mirrored in the polished stone beneath their feet. Ember padded a few steps ahead, sniffing at market stalls that had long closed for the evening.
Tamara tilted her head toward the skyline. "It's strange seeing the city quiet. Usually the streets hum all night."
John glanced around. "Feels like the calm before a storm."
Her lips quirked. "You always have to ruin a peaceful moment, don't you?"
He smiled faintly. "Maybe I just don't trust peace anymore."
They passed beneath an archway of glowing vines. The air smelled faintly of rain and crystal dust. Around them, the last few Revenakians lit the night-lamps—small spheres of suspended light that hovered like fireflies.
Tamara slowed her pace. "It's been weeks since the Hunt. You've come a long way."
"So have you," he said. "Blake too. You both broke through to high F-tier already. Ember's close behind."
She shot him a look. "And you're still comparing again?"
He didn't answer right away. His fingers brushed the hilt of the Spear of Revenak on his back. The weapon pulsed faintly, as if it heard them.
Tamara's voice softened. "John, strength isn't a race. You're different. The spear—whatever bond it's building—changes how you grow."
He looked down at her, caught between gratitude and guilt. "Maybe. But tomorrow they announce the Trial. If I'm still behind, I'll drag everyone down."
Tamara stopped walking. The light from the nearest lamp haloed her hair in silver. "You won't drag anyone down," she said firmly. "You lead even when you don't mean to."
For a heartbeat, the words hung between them. The night wind carried the sound of distant chimes.
John smiled, small and real. "You always know what to say."
She smirked. "That's because you never shut up."
He laughed, the tension breaking. Ember chirped, as if seconding her point.
They reached the edge of the promenade, overlooking the vast golden barrier that encircled Revenak. Beyond it, the world fell away into endless darkness.
Tamara's voice was quiet now. "Tomorrow changes everything, doesn't it?"
John nodded. "Yeah. But tonight… we're still here."
She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded once. "Good. Then don't do anything stupid until after tomorrow."
"I'll try," he said.
The Breakthrough
The Citadel was silent when John returned to his quarters.
Moonlight spilled across the floor, mingling with the faint glow of alchemy bottles on his desk. Ember curled beside the bed, already half-asleep, tail flicking rhythmically.
John stood at the window, staring out toward the barrier's distant shimmer.
"Tomorrow we find out what the Trial is," he murmured. "If I'm going to face it, I can't stay where I am."
He turned back to his cultivation mat. The Spear of Revenak lay across it, humming faintly, resonating with his heartbeat.
"Alright," he whispered. "One more step."
He sat cross-legged and closed his eyes. The Light within him rose like a tide—hot, unstable, pulsing with power. He guided it upward, letting it crash through the channels of his body.
The first attempt burned. His breath hitched, his vision flashed white, and the Light scattered out of rhythm.
He gasped, falling forward onto his hands. "No… focus."
Again.
The second attempt nearly broke him. The energy refused to stabilize, raging against his will like wildfire. Ember stirred, sensing the struggle, but John raised a hand to calm him. "I'm okay," he rasped. "Stay."
He forced himself back upright. His hands shook, sweat running down his temple. The third attempt came slower—measured. Controlled.
He let the Light flow instead of pushing it. Let it breathe.
Something shifted.
His core, once bright gold, deepened—color flooding it with streaks of molten red and white. The air around him rippled; the Light veins in the floor brightened until they sang.
John's heartbeat synced with the rhythm. The power built, sharp and pure, until it broke through the threshold—his core expanding, stabilizing, ascending.
The glow faded to a soft, steady pulse. He exhaled shakily. "High F-tier," he whispered. "Finally."
Ember let out a proud rumble and nudged his shoulder with his nose.
John smiled tiredly, ruffling the Lumibear's fur. "Guess we're catching up, huh?"
The spear beside him pulsed once in approval, its crystal inlay burning with faint blue fire.
He stood, steady for the first time in hours. His Light no longer fought him—it moved with him, perfectly balanced.
"Tomorrow," he murmured, looking out at the horizon. "Whatever it is, I'm ready."
The Trial of Dawn
The next day, the Citadel gathered.
From the balconies of the upper towers to the courtyards below, Revenak's people filled the air with shimmering Light. Banners of gold and white rippled in the radiant wind.
At the center stood Prince Caelus, the Light Prince himself, flanked by Leto, Alina, and Rin. His wings of radiance unfolded behind him, casting long shadows across the marble steps.
When he spoke, his voice carried through the city.
"The time has come," he said. "The Trial of Dawn begins."
A hush swept the crowd.
"This is no ordinary test. It is a journey to the Tomb of the First Light—the resting place of Revenak's ancient kings and queens. It lies deep within the dark territories, where even shadow fears to dwell."
Gasps rippled through the gathered soldiers.
Caelus continued, "The tomb is sealed by sacred law. Only the one who carries the Spear of Revenak may enter its gates. Within, the ancestors themselves test the heart of those who seek their blessing. No guardian, no prince, not even the Dark Prince, may cross its threshold."
His gaze fell on John. "You, bearer of the spear, will lead the expedition. Tamara and Blake will go with you. The rest of us will hold the darkness at bay."
John bowed his head slightly. "What happens if I fail?"
Caelus's expression softened. "Then the tomb will close again—and the Light will dim a little more."
Leto stepped forward, resting a hand on John's shoulder. "Do not fail."
Tamara glanced at John, her voice low but sure. "We won't."
Blake grinned faintly. "Guess field trips in Revenak don't come with snacks."
Even Leto smiled at that—just barely. "Prepare yourselves. You leave at dawn."
As the crowd dispersed, John turned his gaze toward the horizon where the barrier shimmered like a second sun. Beyond it waited a place no one had entered in centuries—a place where only the Light itself decided who was worthy to stand in its presence.
The wind carried the faint echo of something ancient stirring.
Ember rumbled beside him, sensing the weight in the air.
John tightened his grip on the spear. "Tomorrow," he said quietly. "We step into legend."