The wind howled through the canyons of Maerundel, carrying flecks of crystalline dust from the shattered remains of what was once the Farseer Monastery. Kaela stood near the edge of the cliff, her cloak rippling behind her like a shadow trying to flee. Beneath her boots, the stone still hummed with the last echoes of the failed trial—Trial of Reflection. The echoes of her own inner voices hadn't quieted.
The first trial had left her bleeding in ways no healing spell could mend.
Brannic Ironfall—The Titan—stood beside her, arms crossed, his heavy axe strapped to his back. The stoic mask he usually wore was absent. His eyes searched the horizon, brows knit.
"You were never meant to do that trial alone," he said after a long silence.
Kaela didn't turn. "It wasn't supposed to be real. But those memories... they weren't just illusions. They were her."
She meant Aelira. But the words felt heavier than that. She had seen herself in those reflections, a version she had long buried—the girl who had once pleaded for her life in a council chamber filled with judgment. The girl who had tamed power with rage and precision, never peace.
Brannic stepped forward. "You want to talk about guilt? I still see the eyes of the bloodkin I left behind on the Pyrefront. My brothers. I was their commander. I told them we'd win."
Kaela glanced at him, surprise flickering across her face.
He gave a bitter smile. "The Concord saved me. Forged a new oath. But I never forgot that war. And I never forgave myself."
For a moment, silence stretched between them like a rope taut with shared wounds.
"Why tell me now?" she asked.
Brannic's smile vanished. "Because the next trial will make that look like a morning jog through Silvergrove. And because I know what you're trying to carry alone."
Before Kaela could reply, a flash of iridescent light shimmered on the horizon. Aelira appeared, draped in a veil of bioluminescent silk. Her eyes no longer held sorrow—they were stern, unyielding.
"The next trial begins in one day's time," she said. "And you will not be facing it alone."
Umbra Concord Headquarters, Eclipse Bastion
Far below the surface, in the Whispering Archives, Nyrix Vellthorn paced the marble corridor with the quiet grace of a shadow refusing to vanish. His thoughts were far from the mission reports scattered across his desk.
His fingers drifted to a small iron pendant resting under his collarbone—an artifact from his pre-Concord days. A time before he'd been the Reaper. When he had a name other than the one whispered in fear.
"You're digging up old graves," came a voice from the shadows.
Lucien Draeven stepped into view, robes glinting with etched runes of command and temporal anchoring. His eyes met Nyrix's with unreadable calm.
"I'm reminding myself why I joined this madness," Nyrix replied.
Lucien tilted his head. "And do you regret it?"
Nyrix's expression hardened. "Every day. And yet, I'd do it again. The Calamity won't take this world. Not while I draw breath."
Lucien nodded, then looked toward the sealed vault in the hallway's end. "The next trials will test Kaela and the others. We need to be ready for what breaks through that seal."
Nyrix exhaled slowly. "I already feel the fractures forming."
The Ruins of Derathen, Next Day
The Concord's advance team gathered before a gateway formed of living obsidian. The second trial 'The Trial of Concordance' was rumored to test not might or memory, but unity. A lesson in cohesion through torment.
Kaela, Brannic, Seris, and Oracle Eylira stood at the ready. Aelira watched them with quiet resolve.
"This gate," she said, "will tear at the bonds between you. If you survive, your unity will strengthen. If not—your unraveling will echo into the Spiral itself."
Eylira offered Kaela a small nod, her silver eyes glowing faintly. "I've seen echoes. Not all of them end in despair."
Kaela closed her eyes, grounding herself.
At that moment Kaela remembered 12 years ago, when the younger Kaela knelt in the rain-slicked alley, bloodied and breathless, hands shaking as sparks of flame danced around her. Her powers had manifested out of panic—her tormentors burned into silence. No one came for her. Not until Lucien did.
He'd found her. Rescued her. And offered her something no one else had—purpose.
"You are more than what they say. Come with me. I see a future in you."
Back in the present, Kaela stepped through the obsidian gate.
The shadows closed in.
—Inside the Trial—
Kaela's eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar landscape: a storm-wracked wasteland where each member of the team was separated by miles of terrain and twisted illusions. Brannic battled his corrupted past. Eylira faced versions of herself that foretold betrayal. Seris wept in silence, surrounded by broken totems of the lost Spiral Order.
And Kaela—Kaela faced herself.
A mirror emerged from the cracked earth. In it stood Kaela, but twisted—wearing the robes of the Calamity, her eyes aglow with stolen power, the corpses of the council at her feet.
"Isn't this what you're afraid of?" the reflection taunted. "That in the end, you'll betray them all?"
Kaela's hands trembled. The words struck deeper than she wanted to admit.
"No," she said softly. "I chose them. I will never be you."
She summoned her full affinity—Arcane Spiral, Memory Flame, and Spellweave Dominion—into a radiant surge. The mirror cracked, then exploded in a burst of spectral fire.
Across the trial's realm, her power echoed.
Brannic felt it. Seris and Eylira did too.
They rallied toward her signal, their illusions crumbling, their doubts scattering.
And together—they emerged.
Outside the gate, Aelira smiled as the team collapsed to their knees, breathless but whole.
"You've passed," she said.
Lucien stepped forward, gaze fixed on Kaela.
"You held them together," he murmured.
Kaela met his eyes. "It was never just me."
Aelira nodded. "One more trial remains before the gate to Stage Four opens. But it will demand more than unity. It will demand loss."
Kaela stood tall, jaw set. "Then we'll pay the cost."
A storm brewed in the distance. The Calamity stirred.