š Chapter 1: The Trial of Vega
The wind smelled different here.
It carried no trace of the rocky dust from my home, no warmth from my mother's morning stew, and no echo of my sister's teasing laughter. It was sharperā¦ prouderā¦ like the breath of something ancient and towering. Something watching.
I stood atop the transport ridge, just beyond the Astragar capital gates, staring at the banner that fluttered in the sky ā midnight blue, marked by a golden winged star.
The Trial of Vega.
That name alone made blood race through every warrior born across Varnokos. It wasn't just a tournament. It was the furnace where fates were forged.
ļ "To stand in the Trial of Vega is to bare your soul before the world," my grandfather once told me,
"and only those with the will of iron and the heart of storms walk away with their name carved in history."
He should've been here. So should My Uncle.
But legacies often leave behind silence before glory.
Narration: Arnox Arakan
ļ "The Trial of Vega is held every four years ā not by one kingdom, but by all of them. A united event, birthed from ancient accords on the planet Drazareth."
ļ "Every clan, race, and empire sends their finest. Giants walk beside beastmen. Skyborn elves challenge desert warlocks. Sometimes, they fight. Sometimesā¦ they die."
ļ "It's a place where the young prove they're not just heirs to power ā but worthy of it."
ļ "And those who lack the strength?"
I looked at my reflection in the glass of a vendor stall ā the blue and gold trim of the Arakan clan flickering under sunlight.
"They vanish beneath the feet of those who do."
The minimum age to enter is 14. I turned 15 at the end of last year.
Just enough to be allowed on the fieldā¦
And just young enough to be underestimated.
Good.
Let them look down on me.
Let them speak of the Arakan Clan like it's a tale that ended thirty years ago ā
Not a storm that's been gathering all this time.
The capital of Astragar pulsed with energy.
Banners of dozens of clans hung from high towers.
Warrior societies marched in lines.
Creature Bonds glimmered around the elite like silent gods.
The blue-silver platform beneath me surged with kinetic energy ā one of the few techs allowed in the kingdom, blending magic and mechanism. Ancient-modern fusion, they called it.
I called it a reminder ā that this world, for all its tradition, still moved forward.
Just like I would.
ļ "The kings, the generals, the clan heads, and the rulers of racesā¦ they all watch the Trials. Because sometimes, one warrior can shift the world's balance."
I clenched my fist.
Lightning danced along my palm.
Not enough to draw eyes ā just enough to remind myself who I am.
ļ "My name is Arnox Arakanā¦ of the Arakan Clan.
We once birthed legends.
We will again."
And if I have to tear the sky apart to remind them ā
Then so be it.