Entry #9

“There!” Gabriel shouted, pointing toward the horizon. “A settlement!”

The group picked up their pace. Smoke curled lazily from stone chimneys, and the smell of soot and metal clung to the breeze.

As they approached, a broad-shouldered man stood at the gate, arms crossed, framed by the silhouette of a blazing forge behind him.

“Welcome to my humble abode, heroes,” he said with a grin.

Louis stepped forward. “Lord Illazki. It’s us.”

“My father’s champion,” Illazki replied, giving a nod of approval. “What brings you to my post?”

“I seek the Trial of Fire,” Louis said, resolute. “And… we could use some weapons.”

Gabriel chimed in, “Yeah, some proper gear wouldn’t hurt either.”

The camp glowed with golden lanterns and firelit forges, buzzing with quiet industry. Though it appeared Illazki lived alone, it was anything but silent.

“Eat,” Illazki said, leading them to a table groaning under plates of steaming meat, roasted vegetables, and spiced bread. “I’ll be forging your armor while you rest.”

As the group dug in, Joaquin commented, “This place is incredible. And you run it all yourself?”

Illazki chuckled. “Who said I’m alone?”

Just then, a woman stepped from behind the loom, carrying a bundle of finely sewn garments.

“Lord Illazki,” she said, “your requested robes are finished.”

“Ahhh, Gwydia,” he said warmly. “My proxy, and the mistress of craftsmanship, art, and magic. Everyone—meet Gwydia.”

She smiled, eyes glimmering like starlight. “So these are the champions Lord Talos chose?”

Illazki nodded, accepting the robes. “Indeed. The Hero, the Medic, the Thief, and the Mage.”

Louis blinked. “You knew our roles already?”

“My father’s doing, no doubt. Nothing in this war is left to chance.”

Gabriel raised his hand. “Thief here.”

Joaquin said, “And I’m the medic.”

Louis glanced around. “I’ve been labeled ‘hero,’ but I never asked for that.”

All eyes turned to the smallest among them—Mira, quiet and wide-eyed.

Gwydia knelt before her. “You must be the Mage.”

Mira nodded slowly. “Yes… I guess I am.”

“Then I’ll train her while you prepare for your trial, Lord Delacroix,” Gwydia said, her voice gentle.

Later that afternoon, steam rose from a natural hot spring tucked behind the settlement. Illazki, now stripped of armor, lounged in the water with Louis, Gabriel, and Joaquin.

“The element of fire,” Illazki began, “requires a calm mind. A frail body like yours,” he pointed at Louis, “won’t last long if you lose control. One mistake and you burn.”

After some quiet, Louis stood and stepped out of the spring, summoning a wooden sword to his hand. Steam began to gather in the room.

Gabriel raised a brow. “What’s going on?”

Joaquin noticed the shift in energy. “Louis?”

Illazki stood. “Gentlemen… the trial has begun. Please leave us.”

As the two exited, Louis faced the god of fire.

“I figured it out,” he said. “Each of you begins with a lecture. Ama-Lurra did it too.”

“You’re perceptive for a mortal,” Illazki said with a smirk. “Let’s begin, then.”

“Lesson two,” Illazki announced, “Not all flames are equal. Mortals fear red flames—but orange, yellow, white, and finally blue—are far deadlier.”

He opened his palm, conjuring an orange flame. The heat warped the air. Louis threw up a wall of roots to shield himself, but the fire sliced through like paper, scorching the stone wall behind him into molten rock.

“That was only second-weakest,” Illazki said. “The stronger ones would incinerate this entire mountain. So we don’t go there.”

Louis, now sweating, focused. “Then teach me how to wield it properly.”

“Lesson three,” Illazki continued. “Steam is born when water boils. It forms mist—perfect for smokescreens. Useful tactically, but dangerous without precision.”

Steam thickened in the room.

Louis’s breath quickened. The pressure built in his skull. Heat. Suffocating heat. His knees buckled.

Think, Louis. Think.

He crawled into the spring, pressing his hands to the water. He summoned ice.

The steam halted.

The room chilled.

Illazki watched as the heat visibly pulled inward, spiraling into Louis’s hands. A snow globe of ice formed, pulsing with stored energy.

“You drained the heat…” Illazki whispered.

Louis stood, holding the globe. “I didn’t want to play god… but I removed the heat from the room.”

He shattered the globe. Warmth returned instantly.

Illazki crossed his arms. “My sister was right about you.”

Louis looked at him. “You held back, didn’t you?”

Illazki’s face grew solemn. “We all do. We need you alive. The only goal now is to stop her.”

Louis nodded. “Your mother took your powers?”

“She wanted to rule this world alone. My father… just wanted to preserve it. But when she threatened to undo everything—the land, the wind, the light… that’s when Ran, our little sister, stepped in.”

Louis’s expression hardened.

“She tried to make peace. And she died for it.”

Meanwhile, in the woods, Gwydia led Mira beneath a silvered canopy of trees. The stars flickered above.

“M-Miss Gwydia,” Mira whispered, “why are we here?”

“I’ve prepared something for you. Gifts—for you and your friends.”

She held out a robe, lined with golden runes and woven in rich blue and silver.

Mira’s eyes widened. “For me?”

“Of course,” Gwydia smiled. “You’re a mage. You’ll need it.”

Mira clutched it tightly. “Thank you… I’ve never received a gift before. Not even bread from my own parents.”

Gwydia chuckled. “But Louis gives you bread, doesn’t he?”

“And Doctor Joaquin gives me sweets!”

“Good,” Gwydia said, conjuring a small book. “Tell me, Mira. Do you like fairy tales?”

Mira tilted her head. “What’s a fairy tale?”

Gwydia’s face softened with pain. “Oh, poor child…”

She handed Mira the book. It shimmered with magic.

“This book will show you two paths. One: stay in this world, with all its curses. Two: escape to a world of dreams—where pain doesn’t exist.”

Mira looked at the book.

And hesitated.

Entry# 9 End