Chapter 38: The Goddess's Trial

###Chapter 38: The Goddess's Trial

A sudden weightlessness consumed Icelyn. The battlefield faded, the pain dulled, and for a moment, there was only silence. Then—light.

When she opened her eyes, she was no longer on the ground. No longer anywhere familiar.

She stood in a vast expanse of endless blue, neither sky nor sea, but something in between. Around her, countless glowing bubbles floated, each shimmering like fragments of a forgotten past.

As she reached out, one drifted closer, revealing a vision inside—a memory. Her younger self, bruised and battered, practicing sword swings long after the others had stopped. Another bubble surfaced—a glimpse of her first victory, the first time she felt pride in her strength.

She spun around, trying to make sense of it all. And that's when she saw her.

Beyond the sea of memories, a figure stood. A woman, draped in flowing blue robes that seemed to shift like the waves. Her presence was both calming and commanding, as if the very air around her bent to her will. Her beauty was ethereal, her gaze piercing yet warm, like the endless sky meeting the deepest ocean.

Icelyn swallowed hard, instincts screaming that she was in the presence of something far beyond human.

"Who… who are you?" she asked cautiously.

The woman smiled, stepping closer, her movements effortless as if she were gliding through space itself.

"I am Aurora."

"Aurora?" Icelyn repeated, the name unfamiliar yet strangely comforting.

"Umm, can I ask… where am I? And why am I here? Am I… dead?"

Aurora chuckled softly, her voice like the whisper of the wind through ice-covered trees.

"Oh, my child… it seems my voice has only now reached you."

" She tilted her head slightly, studying Icelyn with eyes filled with wisdom beyond mortal years. "

You may not have known it, but I have been with you all along."

Icelyn took a step forward, her heart pounding. "What?"

Aurora's expression softened.

"I... am your goddess."

Icelyn's breath hitched. "My goddess? Wait… you're a goddess?"

The realization struck like a thunderclap. Her legs gave out, and she dropped to one knee, head bowed.

"My humblest apologies," she said hurriedly, guilt creeping into her voice.

"I did not recognize you. Please forgive me!"

Aurora chuckled, the sound as gentle as falling snow.

"There is no need for apologies, child. I have been watching over you long before you ever knew my name."

She stepped forward, placing a hand lightly on Icelyn's shoulder. The touch was cool, yet comforting, like the first breeze of winter.

"Now, stand. There is no need for such formalities between us."

Icelyn hesitated, then slowly rose to her feet. Though awe still clung to her, a new feeling stirred within her—something deeper than reverence. Purpose.

Aurora's expression turned serious.

"Since you have finally heard my call, we should go down to business."

Icelyn blinked. "Business? What business?"

Aurora gazed into the distance, where the sea of memories swirled around them.

"Did you know that every hero is granted a weapon, a gift from their goddess—a blade that holds their true power." She turned her piercing gaze back to Icelyn. "So now, I shall grant you mine."

Icelyn's heart pounded in her chest. A weapon? Given by a goddess herself? She barely managed to whisper the word. "Weapon?"

Aurora nodded.

"But before you can wield it, you must prove yourself."

A sudden shift in the air made Icelyn shiver. The serene world around them darkened slightly, a glacial wind picking up. The space beyond Aurora seemed to ripple as if something unseen lurked just beyond the veil.

Aurora raised a hand, and the stars above flickered in response.

"Power is not simply given, Icelyn. It is earned."

Her gaze hardened.

"Now… show me that you are worthy."

Aurora stepped to the side, her flowing robes moving like mist as she revealed what lay behind her.

Icelyn's breath caught in her throat. Embedded deep within a stone was a sword—its blade shimmering with an ethereal glow, its hilt adorned with intricate carvings that pulsed faintly, as if the weapon itself was alive.

"This is my sword," Aurora said, her voice both commanding and serene.

"But it does not yet belong to you."

Icelyn clenched her fists, determination burning in her eyes.

"Alright. What do I need to do to prove my worth?"

Aurora smirked and raised a hand. Instantly, the floating bubbles of memories around them trembled, drawn toward the center like falling stars. They twisted and compressed, fusing together into a single form—a perfect replica of Icelyn.

Icelyn's eyes widened. She wasn't just facing an illusion or a shadow—this was her. Every skill, every technique, every ounce of strength she had, the clone had as well.

"You must fight yourself," Aurora declared. "And defeat her."

Icelyn nodded, but before she could reach for the goddess's weapon, Aurora extended a hand—offering her an old, worn sword instead. The blade was chipped, the handle wrapped in frayed leather.

Icelyn hesitated, then looked back at her clone, who now wielded the goddess's sword. Her stomach sank.

"What? That's not fair!" she protested.

"She gets your weapon, and I'm stuck with this?"

Aurora's expression remained unreadable.

"That is the point, Icelyn."

Icelyn tightened her grip on the battered sword.

"But that means I have no chance of winning."

"That is not for you to decide." Aurora's gaze hardened.

"Right now, the sword recognizes her, not you. If you wish to wield my weapon, you must make it acknowledge you instead."

Icelyn's jaw clenched. She stole a glance at her clone, who stood motionless, sword in hand, eyes locked onto her with eerie stillness.

Aurora raised her hand once more, and the space around them trembled. "Your trial begins now."

Icelyn exhaled sharply and took her stance.

This wasn't just about winning.

This was about proving she was more than just a copy of herself.

She had to become something greater.

Because if she failed here… she wouldn't even live long enough to face the teacher.

The trial had begun.