The night air in the Vale was colder than usual. I could feel it biting through my cloak as I sat by the small fire Orrin helped build. The flas flickered weakly, shadows dancing across the misty clearing. My hands still ached from the silver trial. The burns were deep, but I had survived. Barely.
Orrin sat across from , silent as always. He had given no praise, only a slow nod when I finished the ancestral oath. That was all. He said the third way was the hardest to survive, but I had done it. I had proved sothing, maybe to him, maybe to myself.
But tonight felt different.
The forest around us was too quiet. No owls hooted. No crickets sang. Even the wind had stilled. The silence made my skin crawl.
"Sothing’s coming," I said softly.
Orrin didn’t look up. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing slow and deep, like he was listening to sothing I couldn’t hear.
Then he opened them.
"Stay near the fire," he said.
I didn’t ask why. I just nodded and scooted closer to the flas.
Orrin stood, grabbing his staff. He walked to the edge of the clearing and stared into the trees.
"What is it?" I asked.
He turned to . His face was grave. "The Red-Eyed Beast. It hunts failed initiates. It can sll weakness."
My breath caught in my throat. "It cos for ?"
"If your spirit isn’t steady, yes. It finds those who are almost strong but not quite enough. If they fall, it devours them. Body and soul."
I hugged my knees, the warmth of the fire suddenly not enough. "What do I do?"
"You don’t run," Orrin said. "You don’t cry out. You hold your ground, and you rember who you are."
The forest crackled.
Not from the fire.
From sothing heavy moving between the trees.
I stood slowly, heart hamring in my chest. My burns throbbed. My breath ca fast. I could feel it—sothing watching. Sothing close.
Then I saw them.
Two red eyes.
Low to the ground. Unblinking.
The shadows around the clearing shifted, like the beast wore darkness like a coat. I couldn’t make out its full shape, only that it was large. Wolf-like, but wrong. Too long. Too silent.
It stepped forward, slow and sure.
The firelight caught its fur. Black as pitch, but not smooth. It rippled like smoke. Its claws dug into the earth with every step.
Orrin raised his staff. "You cannot fight it, Luciana. Not yet. But you can face it."
The beast paused, its eyes locked on mine.
I wanted to run.
Every part of scread to run.
But I didn’t.
I stepped forward. Just once. My boots sank into the dirt. I stood tall, even though my hands trembled.
"I’m not afraid of you," I said.
It snarled.
And I knew that was a lie.
I was terrified.
But I also knew fear wasn’t weakness.
Not if I chose to stand anyway.
The beast circled the fire, moving slow. Orrin didn’t stop it. He just watched .
"Say your na," Orrin said.
I frowned. "What?"
"Say it. Let it know who you are."
The beast crept closer.
I took a deep breath. "Luciana. Daughter of Aira and Nefang. Mate to Darius. Mother to Erya."
The beast growled, louder now.
"I am not broken. I am not weak."
The air rippled around it, heat and shadow pulsing like a heartbeat.
It leapt.
Straight at .
I didn’t move.
I didn’t scream.
I closed my eyes.
Flas burst around . Not from the fire. From .
A wall of white and gold light rose between and the beast.
It hit the light with a snarl, then was thrown back into the trees.
I dropped to my knees, shaking.
Orrin was beside in seconds.
"You did it."
"What was that?" I gasped.
"Your soul rose up to protect you. You t fear and did not yield. That is power. That is will."
I looked toward the trees. The beast was gone.
But its eyes stayed in my mind.
"Will it co back?"
"If you let doubt win. Yes. But now, it knows your na. It knows your strength."
I took a shaky breath. The wind returned. The forest sighed. Crickets began to chirp again.
The world had shifted.
And so had I.
That night, I didn’t sleep. I watched the fire until the sun rose.
But I wasn’t afraid.
Not anymore.
---
At dawn, Orrin gave a new cloak. It was pale gray, like the mist that hugged the valley. It slled of cedar and sage.
"You wear this now," he said. "You have passed the fourth test, even though it was not part of the Three Ways. The beast is the valley’s own. It guards the sacred path."
I put it on. It felt like armor.
My burns still hurt, but I bore them like marks of honor.
"What cos next?" I asked.
He looked at the sky. "The Final Way. Not a trial of body or soul, but of choice. And for that, you must be ready to give everything."
My heart ached.
I thought of Erya.
Of Darius.
Of the life waiting for beyond the mountains.
But I also thought of Silverglen.
Of the land crying out.
Of the cursed shadow that still lingered.
And I knew.
I was not done yet.
Not until the curse was broken.
Not until the land was free.
Not until the flas inside had burned a path ho.
---
We walked through the forest that morning in silence. The mist clung to the trees, low and silver. Birds began to sing, faint but brave. The world felt alive again. Or maybe I was the one who had changed.
Orrin led the way. His steps were light, but sure. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
I followed, cloak brushing my heels, staff in hand. My palms still stung from the burns, but I didn’t flinch. Pain no longer felt like sothing to fear. It was part of the path.
As we climbed the slope, the trees began to thin. The air grew colder. Sharper. I saw the sky again, pale blue and cloudless. The mountains rose ahead of us like silent guards. They felt ancient. Watching. Waiting.
We stopped at a narrow ridge.
Orrin pointed.
Below, a vast valley opened up. At the center, a black spire pierced the earth. Around it, nothing grew. The land was cracked, dry, and shadowed.
"The cursed place," he said. "The final choice lies there."
I swallowed hard. The valley looked dead. But I could feel sothing moving beneath it. Like the land was breathing. Or watching back.
"Will I have to fight again?" I asked.
Orrin didn’t answer right away. Then he said, "Sotis the hardest fight is against what you love."
I looked at him. "What do you an?"
"You’ll see."
We camped at the edge of the ridge that night. I could not sleep. Again. The fire burned low, and the wind whispered through the stones.
I thought of Erya’s laugh.
Of the way Darius held my hand without needing words.
Of my mother’s voice calling ho.
Would I see them again?
Would they still know if I changed?
Could I choose them—and still choose this path?
The Red-Eyed Beast had tested my fear.
But this—this tested my heart.
In the end, I lay on my side, facing the valley.
And I made a promise.
I would go.
I would choose.
And I would not look away.
No matter what I found waiting in the shadow of that spire.
Because I was not just Luciana the daughter.
Or Luciana the mate.
Or Luciana the mother.
I was Luciana the fla.
And the fla would not flicker.
Not anymore.
Not even in the dark.
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