Chapter 53 The Trial of Shadows

The sun barely had the nerve to rise.

Clouds sat low and heavy over the city, dimming the usual light that spilled into the cobblestone training yard. The air was thick with something unspoken—fear, maybe. Or tension stretched too tight for anyone to name. It clung to every breath, made the silence heavier than it should’ve been.

Kai stood with Fara, Skye, and Revoli near the outer wall of the yard. Their backs were to the cold stone, their faces set. Across the way, guild members filled the bleachers. Officials sat stiff in their ornate chairs. A row of so-called “honored guests” whispered behind gloves and goblets, like this was some noble gathering and not a setup.

It was theater.

The Trial of Shadows wasn’t about proving strength or ranking up. It wasn’t even about testing limits.

It was about control. Power. Sending a message.

“Let’s keep our heads,” Kai murmured, eyes sweeping the yard. His hands flexed around the grips of his twin batons—short, worn, and familiar. Balanced.

“That’s asking a lot,” Skye muttered beside him. She adjusted the strap across her shoulder blades, one of her daggers already loose in its sheath. “Especially with him watching.”

Gregory stood near the officiating stand, arms folded like a smug statue. His ceremonial cloak dragged behind him like he thought it made him more important. It didn’t. It just made him look like a pompous joke. Flanking him were six lieutenants in polished armor. Faces blank. Eyes proud. They weren’t watching—they were measuring.

Revoli tossed a metal marble into the air and caught it with a grin. “Bet I could knock his teeth out from here.”

“No assassinations,” Fara said quietly, standing just behind Kai. But the way her golden-red tails twitched said she wasn’t entirely against the idea.

Then came the clatter.

The gate on the far side of the yard groaned as it opened. Chains rattled. Metal ground against metal. From the darkness, a dozen armored fighters stepped out, their armor etched with glowing glyphs. Their eyes were blank, but not dumb—enhanced. Too enhanced.

The crowd hushed.

Kai’s jaw tensed. “These aren’t recruits.”

“They’re fodder,” Skye said. “For us.”

The announcer didn’t bother with introductions. No rules. No speeches.

Just a flare of red light in the sky and the toll of a bell.

Then chaos.

The fighters charged like a wave.

Kai moved without hesitation. He darted forward, batons spinning into a low cross block that knocked aside a spearhead. His right baton cracked into the man’s ribs, the left spinning under the soldier’s arm to hook his wrist and twist the weapon free.

The shock of the impact vibrated all the way to his elbows. It stayed there, humming.

You’re dreaming, he told himself. You’ve survived worse. You’ll wake up. You always wake up.

But when the hammer slammed into his side a second later, the breath left his lungs and didn’t come back. His ribs screamed. His vision went narrow, the world reduced to shapes and movement.

He gritted his teeth. Swung wide. Blocked a blade—barely.

Fog crept in at the edge of his thoughts.

What if this isn’t a dream?

Steel scraped across his arm. Not deep, but it burned like fire.

He staggered.

The cheers of the crowd blurred. They could’ve been celebrating. They could’ve been laughing. Or maybe it was all just in his head. His focus slipped.

He saw Fara—her barrier flickering like a dying flame, her breathing strained. Her tails dulled.

That was real.

He remembered the warmth of her body in the bath. The way she kissed him like she didn’t care if it was real or not—just that it was with him.

That had been real.

Another strike knocked him to the ground. One knee in the dirt. Blood in his mouth.

“KAI! Get up!” Revoli’s voice cracked across the yard.

He wiped the blood from his lip and pushed himself upright.

Slow.

Unsteady.

But upright.

Fara spun her staff-spear and slammed it down, unleashing a blast of wind that sent two attackers tumbling.

Skye vanished into motion—silent, deadly. Her daggers flickered like twin slivers of moonlight, striking tendons and joints with brutal precision. No wasted movement. No hesitation.

Revoli ducked behind rubble, flinging smoke bombs that exploded with both light and sound. The arena rang with distortion. Screams.

“Left!” she called.

Kai pivoted, batons up. He caught a sword strike on one arm, twisted in, and slammed both batons against the enemy’s chest—once, twice—until the man dropped.

Behind him, Fara stumbled.

“Are you—?”

“I’m fine,” she said, breathless.

He stepped in to cover her anyway.

Up in the stands, one of the lieutenants leaned forward. “They’re adapting.”

“Of course they are,” Gregory muttered. “Push them harder. Send in the second wave.”

The gates opened again.

More opponents flooded in—some wielding fire-bladed swords, others with axes radiating frost. Enchanted weapons. Illegal, unstable magic.

Kai looked toward the bleachers. No one objected. Not one official stood.

So this was planned.

Sanctioned.

Skye hissed as a blade opened a gash in her thigh. Fara’s barrier cracked under the weight of a heavy mace. Her hands shook. Her lips were pale.

Kai’s chest tightened.

“Fall back!” he shouted.

“No,” Fara said. “We stand or we burn.”

She didn’t blink.

Time warped. Seconds stretched, minutes vanished.

Kai’s batons were slick with blood. His shoulder was raw. Revoli had only one bomb left, fingers scorched and shaking. Skye fought with a limp. Fara was down to one tail barely flickering with light.

And Kai couldn’t lie to himself anymore.

This wasn’t a dream.

This was a war.

And every blow made it harder to pretend otherwise.

Then a new sound cracked through the sky.

Lightning.

A whip of it.

Kai turned just in time to see a lieutenant step onto the field. Armor gleaming. Face unreadable. Eyes glowing with the kind of light that didn’t belong in a human body.

Gregory smiled like he was watching the finale of a play.

“This wasn’t part of the deal,” someone in the crowd muttered.

The lieutenant raised his gauntlet.

Electricity built fast.

Fara screamed.

Kai didn’t think.

He ran.

He lunged and slammed both batons against the man’s bracer just as the lightning discharged. Sparks exploded. Pain roared down Kai’s spine. The force knocked them both off their feet, sent them tumbling in opposite directions.

Kai hit the dirt and didn’t move.

For a breath.

Then two.

Then he forced himself up.

Bleeding.

Burning.

Alive.

The lieutenant hesitated. Stepped back.

Kai didn’t speak.

Didn’t need to.

A horn blew.

The trial was over.

No cheers. Just stunned silence.

Kai staggered over to Fara. Her pulse fluttered under his fingers. Skye was already beside them, tying her leg off with a strip of fabric. Revoli collapsed beside them, covered in powder and soot, her hands trembling.

They didn’t look victorious.

They looked broken.

But they’d survived.

Back inside their quarters, later that night, Patrona stirred. Her skin was pale, her breathing shallow. Kai sat by her side, cleaning the blood from her knuckles.

She opened her eyes slowly.

“You weren’t... supposed to survive that,” she rasped.

“Surprise,” Kai said softly. “We do that a lot.”

Patrona turned her head, eyes glassy. “She knows now. Malrissa. She’s moving.”

Kai’s hand froze.

“She’s not like the Demon Lord. She doesn’t want power,” Patrona whispered. “She wants return. She wants to unmake everything that forgot her.”

Kai leaned in. “Where?”

Patrona opened her mouth.

But she passed out before the words could come.