The ground beneath Alyc vanished. One moment, she stood in the coliseum, the roar of the crowd still echoing in her ears. The next, the world shifted, the stone floor dissolving into mist, the sky stretching endlessly beneath her feet. Alyc’s stomach lurched. She stood on nothing, or at least, that was how it felt. Beneath her, a storm-ravaged sea churned, its black waves crashing against jagged rocks that jutted from the abyss. Above, thunder rumbled, and lightning slashed through the heavy clouds, illuminating the battlefield suspended in the sky. Floating stone platforms stretched outward, shifting and tilting as if caught in a ceaseless storm. At the very center of the trial, on the largest of these platforms, two artifacts waited, one marked with the sigil of Emberfall, the other with the crest of Selenia. The first competitor from each kingdom to claim their artifact would move on. The Seer’s voice rang out, carried by the howling winds, “Let the Trial of the Tempest begin.”

  And then, chaos. The Skywatcher raised her hands, and the winds exploded to life. Alyc barely had time to brace before the first gust hit like a battering ram, lifting her boots clean off the stone. She twisted midair, slamming down onto the platform as the storm grew fiercer. The Tideweaver followed, summoning towering waves that crashed down from above, their impact rattling the floating battlefield. Water pooled across the platforms, making every step treacherous. The world tilted, not just the platforms, but the very air around them. Gravity itself felt unstable, bending beneath the will of the divine. Across the battlefield, five figures struggled against the storm. Ilyra Duskbane was already moving. The Emberfall warrior lunged forward, unrelenting, ignoring the gale, her body cutting through the wind as if it did not exist. Cassia Rivenholme was different. She flowed like water, using each gust to adjust her steps, her movements graceful, effortless. Torren Valehart planted his feet, his Warhammer slamming against the stone as an anchor. He moved with brute force, every step slow but deliberate. Alyc studied them all, heart pounding, and then, she ran. The wind howled, tearing at Alyc’s cloak as she launched forward. Her first step was blind, her body carried not by strength, not by force, but by instinct.

  A gust caught her, nearly sending her sprawling into the abyss. Instead of resisting, she twisted with the current, letting the wind carry her forward. A stone platform lurched upward, and she used the momentum to launch herself to the next ledge. Lightning flashed, illuminating the battlefield. Ahead, Ilyra was close, only two platforms from the Emberfall artifact. She sprinted forward, moving without hesitation. Cassia wasn’t far behind, her daggers digging into the stone for balance as she leapt across the shifting platforms.

  Torren Valehart was struggling. The brute strength that had served him so well in previous trials was useless here. A powerful gust of wind slammed into Torren Valehart, sending him staggering backward. His Warhammer, once his greatest weapon, was dead weight in this trial. The unstable platforms beneath him shifted unpredictably, and every attempt to brace himself only slowed him down further. Lightning flashed, illuminating the battlefield for an instant. The storm raged on, tearing through the air with merciless force. Ahead of him, Cassia Rivenholme surged forward, her daggers digging into the stone as she leapt effortlessly across the shifting ledges. She barely seemed to fight against the storm, she moved with it, adapting with precision. Torren was outmatched. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself forward, but every step felt like a battle against an unstoppable tide. Then, a fatal misstep. A sudden change in the wind sent his platform tilting at a sharp angle. He reached out to steady himself, but his fingers found nothing but air. His body lurched sideways, momentum carrying him toward the edge. He let out a roar of frustration, hammer swinging wildly to catch balance. But there was no solid ground left to hold him. A final gust of wind tore through the battlefield. Torren’s warhammer slipped from his grasp. His body plunged into the abyss. His fall was swift and silent. By the time the next bolt of lightning split the sky, he was gone. Only three remained. Alyc pressed forward, eyes locked on the Selenian artifact ahead. The wind was a force of chaos, tearing through the battlefield, trying to pull her under. But she refused to fight it, instead, she moved with it, adjusting her stance, using its power to propel herself forward. Cassia, meanwhile, was a flicker of silver and shadow, her daggers digging into the crumbling platforms, her movements precise and calculated. The Emberfall artifact loomed ahead, just within reach.

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  Cassia lunged;A mistake. The moment she launched forward, the platform beneath her crumbled. Her body twisted midair, trying to adjust, but there was nothing to hold onto. Ilyra Duskbane was already at the Emberfall artifact. Cassia was too late. Alyc hit her final platform, feet skidding against slick stone. Alyc’s hand shot out, fingers closing around the Selenian artifact just as the storm lurched again. The wind howled one last time, a final test, pushing her back as if trying to rip victory from her grasp. But she held on. She dug her heels into the shifting platform, bracing herself against the force. Across the battlefield, Ilyra Duskbane’s fingers clenched around the Emberfall artifact, her grip unyielding. Cassia Rivenholme lunged, her body twisting midair in one last desperate attempt, but she was seconds too late. Her boots hit the platform just as the storm stilled, the trial ending with a deafening silence.

  The artifacts had been claimed. Cassia stumbled forward, her daggers slipping from her hands. Her breath was ragged, rain dripping from her soaked frame. She blinked, as if trying to process what had just happened, how close she had been. How easily victory had slipped from her grasp. She turned to Ilyra. The Emberfall warrior met her gaze, unreadable. Cassia’s chest heaved. She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. The battlefield had decided.

  The Tideweaver lowered her hands. The storm vanished. The winds fell silent. For the first time since the trial began, the battlefield was still. Alyc stood motionless, gripping the artifact tightly. Across from her, Ilyra Duskbane did the same, her knuckles white against the cold stone. Torren Valehart was gone, swallowed by the abyss. Cassia Rivenholme had lost, left standing one step too far from victory. The Seer’s voice echoed across the battlefield, her tone final and absolute: "Alyc Halcyhon of Selenia. Ilyra Duskbane of Emberfall. You have earned your place in the final battle.” The platforms began to dissolve, fading into mist beneath their feet. The storm drifted away, leaving only the quiet hum of magic settling over the battlefield. Cassia Rivenholme let out a slow breath. She had lost. Torren had fallen. And now, only two warriors remained.

  Alyc exhaled, still gripping the artifact. She had won again. But as she stood there, heart pounding, drenched in rain and sweat, she felt nothing. The trials had carved something deeper into her. There was no relief. No sense of triumph. No pride. Only the next fight. She turned her gaze toward Ilyra, who remained motionless, unreadable beneath the dying light. The final trial was set. One more fight. One final test. Alyc turned away. She would be ready.