Chapter 8: Trial of the Crags
Dawn broke over Crags, its spires glowing faintly, glyphs pulsing under mist. Jason stood in Voren's training yard, the Farthalin warm in his grip, its whisper sharp: Farthalin. The colossus vision—Kaldor's dust—haunted him, but he gripped his blade, scar throbbing. Prove it. The system hummed—[Resolve Points: 2000%]—a faint guide. 1850% Resolve Points—how much higher can this go? Lynn adjusted her satchel, rune stone glowing, green eyes sharp. "Voren's test," she said, voice steady. "Show Crags we're worth their blades." She's ready. Celia smirked, her dagger twirling, violet eyes gleaming. Ren's warhammer rested, his red hair tied back, his sister's dream a fire.
Voren faced them, his glyph-etched armor gleaming, runners at his side. "Crags fights for Kaldor," he said, his voice iron. "Prove you can stand with us." He gestured to a rune circle, its sigils flaring blue. It's a challenge we can't fail. "Disarm my runners, no blood." A gauntlet. Jason nodded, blade raised, instincts honed. Celia's smirk widened. "Like hunting," she said, her voice low. She's in her element. Ren's grip tightened, his eyes fierce. Lynn's rune stone pulsed, her glyphs ready. We're a team.
The first runner charged, his glyph flaring, stone spikes jutting. Jason dodged, blade deflecting a strike, then twisted, disarming the runner with a sharp wrist-lock, like sparring. Celia darted, her dagger a blur, pinning a runner's sleeve to a spire. "Too slow," she taunted, violet eyes flashing. Ren blocked a glyph, his warhammer forcing a runner back, his roar echoing: "For my sister!" Lynn's rune flared, green light tripping a runner, her glyphs precise. She's a tactician. Jason disarmed another, his breath steady, the Farthalin's pulse guiding him.
Voren nodded, impressed. "Enough." He stepped forward, his blade drawn. "You, stranger," he said, eyes on Jason—the real test. Voren's glyph flared, stone shifting underfoot. Jason parried, sparks flying, his instincts fluid. He's fast. The Farthalin burned, a vision flashing: a colossus watching, Kaldor silent, a voice hissing: You're mine.Not now—I can't let it distract me. Jason ducked, disarming Voren with a feint, blade at his throat. Voren laughed, stepping back. "You'll do."
Celia shared a glance with Jason, her voice low: "My brother trained like this. Never backed down." She's trusting us. Jason nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. "Voren's runners aren't so different—tough, but they've got our back now." A bond is forming. The system pinged: [System Insight: Passed Voren's test. Reward: 250 Resolve Points. Resolve Points: 2250%.] The yard's glyphs dimmed, a tremor shaking Crags. Rogues. Voren's runners tensed, blades drawn. "They're close," he said, pointing to a ravine. The statue.
Voren led the team toward the ravine, his runners flanking them, glyphs flaring in the mist. Shadows moved—rogue scouts, their blades glinting, glyphs red and jagged. "Ambush!" Celia shouted, her dagger flashing as she took down a scout with a precise throw. Jason lunged, blade clashing with a rogue, the Farthalin's crimson light shattering a glyph in a burst of sparks. They're testing us. Ren roared, warhammer smashing a scout's shield, his strength a wall. Lynn's rune flared, green vines binding a rogue, her barrier holding the line. Voren's blade cut through, his experience clear.
The skirmish ended, the rogues retreating into the mist, but the ravine's glyphs pulsed stronger, pulling Jason forward. Kael, the scarred runner, joined them, his voice tense. "The statue's near—those rogues were its guard." We're close. The Farthalin's whisper surged, its shadow coiling tighter in Jason's mind, a promise of power—and danger—tied to the stone ahead.