Amorana’s Trial

The desert's scorching heat intensified, its golden sands amplifying the glare until the very air shimmered. Around Arian, lizards and scorpions swarmed in growing numbers—their fury mounting as they inched closer, venom-dripped pincers snapping.

«Shadwolf—watch your back!» Arian shouted, sweat streaming down his temples. «Amorana’s Trial is finally showing itself!»

A heavy stillness seized the wastes—a drawn bowstring's stillness—before the calm shattered.
At last, the battle between Arian and the desert’s creatures erupted!

«Papa, watch out!» Shadwolf’s telepathic voice sliced through the chaos. «These little black things with six legs are dangerous! Their tails carry poison!»

Arian’s breath came ragged as he parried a scorpion’s lunge. «I know, Shadwolf—they’re called scorpions. Tell me they didn’t sting you?»
He kicked sand into a cluster of advancing creatures, buying seconds. «Thank the skies it’s daytime—we’d never spot these bastards at night...»

For a heartbeat, Arian stilled—letting Shadwolf take the offensive—as his boots sank deeper into the scorching sand. The veins in his arms stood out like cords against his skin.

«Alright... focus.» Arian gritted his teeth, mana flaring around his knuckles. «My reserves are low. If I spread mana through all my vents, I’ll get full-body protection—but my attacks turn to dust. So...»
He slammed his palms together, veins burning gold. «...channel everything to my hands and feet! Can’t cast grand magic—just an enhancer, remember?—but I can still throw a damn punch! SHADWOLF—MOVE!!!»

After a split-second pause—and a roar toward Shadwolf—Arian sprung upward. Then, with a surge of crimson light blazing around his fist, he slammed it into the soft earth.

CRACK!
A shockwave ripped outward. Sand erupted like fiery rain in a ten-meter radius, and the ground trembled—a seismic punch that froze the scorpions mid-lunge.

«NOW, SHADWOLF! CHARGE!»

Shadwolf—small but lethal—darted through the dust-choked aftermath of Arian’s strike like living shadow. Within the haze, his razor claws pulverized scorpions into dark pulp.

But before the settling grit could touch the sand—
—the second wave struck. Scorpions swarmed again, now flanked by desert cats summoned by Amorana’s will.

Orange-furred and fluid as liquid light, they moved with Shadwolf’s agility—yet where he was void-made-flesh, they burned like incarnate sunlight.

Arian staggered back—dizziness crashing over him—and collapsed onto one knee. «SHADWOLF! WATCH THOSE CATS!» he roared, sand gritting beneath his palms.

High above, Zinarphil’s tail twitched like a metronome.
«Hmm. Good. The boy’s identified his weakness: he knows how to weaponize his body but...»
Amber eyes narrowed.
«...his small frame can’t execute what his mind envisions. A pity.»
He already charted adjustments for Arian’s next training cycle.

«That wolf, though
—attacks like he’s battled for centuries! Not some newborn.»
A draconic chuckle rumbled.
«Lucky you, Arian. Fine ally you’ve bound. Now... let’s see you survive THIS phase, my son.»

After hours of relentless battle, the sun began its descent, staining the sky a mirrored reflection of the desert itself—a vast, golden-red expanse where heaven and sand bled into one.

«Papa... I can’t go on,» Shadwolf whined, collapsing beside Arian’s boots. «It’s getting dark... I’m hungry... thirsty...»

Arian slumped against a dune, his breath ragged. «I know, Shadowolf. I’m spent too...»
He scanned the silent wastes—ominously still. «They’ve stopped attacking. Alright—you rest first. I’ll keep watch. Then it’ll be your turn to guard while I sleep.»

After their conversation, as Shadwolf drifted into sleep, Arian sat cross-legged and slipped into meditation. Drawing in the ambient mana, he expanded his senses—scanning the desert’s pulse.

«Hard to gauge how long I’ve been in Amorana’s Trial...»
His fingers brushed the empty water pouch. «Rations exhausted—must’ve been a week. Day one: motionless. Then three taran of trekking... yet the entrance still lies beyond my sensory range.»
A frown. «My detection radius used to span five taran. Now? Barely this much. Where is the border?!»

(Note: 1 taran ≈ 1 kilometer)

"How far have I come into the desert?" Arian kept thinking about how to get out of this desert and what Zinarefil meant by "purpose," but he still couldn't reach a conclusion.

"Today, for the first time, I was able to throw a real punch, and it was a strong punch too, honestly, but clearly not from my own strength, but because I was able to use the element of wind."

When I review the battle, transferring mana to my legs and closing the other channels allowed me to increase the amount of mana compression in these two areas. Because of this, the interference of my mana and the environment acted like a positive pressure pump and created propulsion, which made both my jump and my punch stronger. But this is not enough; my mana density is not high enough!

"Be quiet, Shadwolf. Your snoring woke everyone in the desert." With these descriptions, one thing is clear: I am weak, and I don't know how that hag thought I could handle this test!

Finally, after cursing Zinarfil, Arian switched places with Shadwolf and began to sleep to prepare himself for the next tests.

The cold, dark desert winds had begun to blow, causing Shadwolf's black fur to dance. The sands, which had been as warm and hot as an oven during the day, were now like shards of glass riding the wind, attacking Shadwolf and Aryan's bodies. Indeed, the desert hosted sharp winds at night and the home of venomous scorpions during the day. "Dad, wake up quickly, something's coming this way!" Shadwolf, who had pulled his body back and was ready to pounce, was trying to wake Aryan. "What's going on, Shadwolf?" Suddenly, Aryan's eyes were fixed on the two pairs of eyes that were staring at him from afar, one of them with black eyes and the other with eyes as blue as the sky, like Aryan's. "Hey, who are you?"

With each step the two took towards Aryan, Aryan's gloves, the same gloves that held Tarentis's heart, trembled. Aryan and Shadwolf both remained motionless in their places, as if locked.

The blue-eyed man ran his hand over Aryan's small head, then pointed his finger towards Aryan's heart, and finally disappeared, leaving as he had come.

The dark-eyed woman kissed Aryan on the cheek and whispered softly in his ear, "Take care of yourself, my son!"

With the disappearance of the two, the invisible lock broke. Shadwolf ran towards Aryan with a moan of anxiety, but before the wolf could reach him, he had fallen on the sand, his lips trembling with a word he had repeated for years without knowing its true meaning: "Mom."