Chapter 33: Trial of the Keepers
The air in the Forgotten Vale crackled with ancient power as the spectral Keepers advanced. Their hollow eyes burned with judgment, their weapons gleaming with ghostly energy. Tara barely had time to react before the first warrior lunged at her, a curved blade slicing through the mist.
She ducked, rolling away just as Emrick met the attacker head-on, steel clashing against ethereal metal. Sparks of magical energy erupted where their swords connected.
Kael moved like a shadow, weaving between the Keepers with inhuman speed. He struck from the darkness, his daggers finding their marks, but the spectral warriors barely reacted. Their bodies shimmered with every blow, reforming as if time itself refused to let them fall.
"They're not real!" Kael shouted as he dodged another attack. "They're echoes!"
Tara realized he was right. These warriors were remnants of the past, bound to the Vale and the Seal's ancient magic. They weren't just fighting enemies—they were fighting history itself.
"Then we don't need to kill them," she called out. "We need to prove ourselves!"
One of the Keepers stepped forward, taller than the others, his presence commanding. His armor bore the markings of a high priest, and his voice echoed through the battlefield.
"The Seal's protectors do not yield to mortals. You must endure the Trial or be cast into oblivion."
Tara's heart pounded. The Trial.
The Vale had always been a place of tests—one designed to keep out the unworthy. This battle wasn't about victory; it was about surviving long enough to earn the Keepers' approval.
"Hold your ground!" she ordered.
Emrick parried another strike, his stance shifting from aggression to pure defense. Kael stopped trying to wound his enemies, instead focusing on evading them, staying one step ahead. Tara raised her hands, channeling the ancient energy of the Vale.
"We seek to protect the Seal!" she declared. "Not for the gods, not for power—but to save existence itself!"
The Keepers hesitated. The mist around them pulsed.
The high priest raised his hand, and the warriors stopped their attacks, frozen in place. He studied Tara for a long moment, then nodded.
"Then prove your resolve."
A sudden weight crushed down upon her mind. Visions flooded her senses—flashes of the past, the present, and the future all merging into one.
She saw the world as it had been before the gods, when the First roamed freely. A sky filled with fire, oceans turned black with corruption. She saw the gods forging the Seal, their divine power barely strong enough to contain the endless hunger of the First.
And then, she saw the future—the Seal breaking. Shadows consuming reality. The First returning.
She gasped, falling to her knees. The truth was unbearable.
"Tara!" Emrick's voice broke through the vision. He grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. "What did you see?"
She looked up at him, her breath unsteady. "The First… It's not just breaking free. It's already awake."
The high priest's spectral form knelt before her, placing a ghostly hand on her forehead.
"Then you understand. The Final Hour approaches."
The mist swirled around them, and in the distance, the ruins of the Forgotten Vale shifted, revealing a path leading deeper into the unknown.
The Keepers had accepted them.
But the real trial was only beginning.