The Ashen Creed and The Wastes
The siblings rose late, the cold, sterile air of the training grounds meeting them with disdain. The gods and their creatures watched with loathing, their gazes full of judgment. The siblings didn't care. Hate was familiar to them—fuel for the fire inside. They moved with cold certainty through the harsh atmosphere, as though nothing could touch them.
As they stepped forward, their instructors appeared—angry, their eyes filled with disdain and disgust. They looked at the siblings as though their very presence was a stain. The siblings didn't mind. They had long since grown accustomed to such hatred. Before the instructors could say anything, however, the Ashen Creed appeared. They stood apart like monstrous beacons of what was to come. These elite enforcers were the embodiment of Maevhara's will, and the siblings could already sense the malevolent energies surrounding them. They weren't here to be trained. They were here to be tested, to be broken.
The Ashen Creed:
Lucien: Radiant and wrathful, his body emits a divine light that burns on contact. Once a paladin who betrayed his god, now a vessel of Maevhara's purging judgment.
Velka: Known as the "Glass Mind," she reads and manipulates memories with her gaze. A psychic executioner whose whispers can fracture minds.
Sahris: The Skinwalker. His flesh constantly shifts, morphing into the forms of his enemies or their loved ones. A mockery of identity and flesh, he thrives on psychological torment.
The instructor stepped forward, his sharp features drawn into a scowl. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of absolute authority—a voice that had seen gods fall and monsters kneel.
"I've trained beasts born from voidfire. I've watched mortals claw their way into godhood, only to die screaming. And yet…" He let his gaze linger on the siblings, his eyes burning with cold judgment. "You three... are different. Arrogant. Unbroken. I don't know whether to be amused or disgusted."
He took another step closer, his tone now sharpened like a blade. "You think you're ready for this? You think you've earned your place here? Prove it. You will face each of the Ashen Creed in combat. Show me that you're worth Maevhara's attention. Fail, and I will have no use for you."
Kael grinned, the smirk curling his lips with cruel amusement. "If this is Maevhara's best, then I'll have to lower my standards," he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "I'd be surprised if these pathetic 'elites' can even land a blow."
Lucien's face twisted with fury at the insult, his body radiating divine light as he took a step forward, hands clenched into fists. Velka's translucent eyes glowed with malice, her expression darkening, and Sahris' shifting skin became a grotesque mask of contempt. The air thickened with their collective rage. Kael's words had done more than just anger them—they had struck at the heart of their pride.
The siblings could feel the storm building in the air as the Ashen Creed's fury seethed. They hadn't just insulted their enemies—they had provoked something far darker. But it was exactly what Kael wanted. He chuckled, a dark, almost gleeful sound, watching them all like a predator who'd cornered its prey.
Nyra remained still, her expression a calm mask of serenity. She looked at the Ashen Creed with the same detached interest one might give a stranger on the street. There was no rush to her movements, no anxiety in her posture. She was simply there, waiting.
Aelina, on the other hand, was an unsettling contrast. She crouched by a nearly dead creature she had found earlier, its blood staining her hands as she twisted its body, playing with it like a child with a broken toy. A sick smile stretched across her face, her eyes gleaming with a twisted delight as the creature twitched in its final moments. The sight made the others uneasy—especially the Ashen Creed—yet the siblings remained untouched by the horror. Only the instructor seemed unfazed, his expression unreadable, while the others watched with a mixture of disgust and revulsion.
The instructor, unmoved by the display, turned to face them all once more. "Enough. This is your first trial. Survive. Return with proof of your conquest. Fail... and I will have no use for you."
Kael's Fight
Lucien, the first of the Ashen Creed, stepped forward with a look of seething contempt. His hands flared with divine light, a blade materializing in his grasp. His voice rang with righteous fury. "Come then, Kael. I'll be the one to cleanse your arrogance."
Kael's eyes sparkled with cruel amusement as he took his stance, gripping his blade tightly. "Let's see if your divine light can burn me, then," he sneered.
The battle began with a violent clash of steel and divine fury. Lucien's blade moved with divine speed, but Kael was faster, grinning through the pain as Lucien's strikes burned through his flesh. The fight was brutal, filled with blood and violence, but Kael mocked the holy light, his laughter ringing out even as the fire tore into his skin. He didn't care about the divine flame that licked at his body; it only made him feel alive.
"You call yourself divine?" Kael sneered. "You bleed like the rest of us." With a quick flick of his wrist, he knocked Lucien to the ground, his blade pressed to his throat.
Lucien snarled, but Kael's dark smile never faltered. The battle ended with Kael standing victorious, bloodied but unbowed, his cruelty unrelenting. He turned, leaving Lucien there to bleed out, mocking him all the while.
Winner: Kael
Nyra's Fight
Next, Nyra faced Velka. The Ashen Creed member stepped forward, her gaze cold as ice. Velka moved with eerie precision, her eyes glowing as she stepped into Nyra's mind, dragging her through endless corridors of memories—old wounds, betrayals, lost family. Nyra's breath hitched, and blood dripped from her nose, but she didn't scream. She didn't move.
Then, in a voice colder than the wind, Nyra whispered a single word back, a curse so vile that it made Velka's cold eyes widen in surprise.
For the first time, the Glass Mind flinched.
And Nyra smiled.
In the end, Velka staggered back, unable to continue. The battle wasn't about strength—it was about control. And Nyra had won.
Winner: Nyra
Aelina's Fight
Lastly, Aelina stepped forward to face Sahris. His face morphed into their grandmother's, their mother's—a sickening mockery. His words were venomous. "You're already becoming me," he hissed.
Aelina's expression was a study in calm—nothing more than the quiet before the storm. She stepped forward and drove her blade deep into his jaw, twisting it until ichor poured out in a sickening spray.
Sahris laughed—deep and guttural—but there was no humor in it. Aelina's face remained impassive, the sickening smile curling on her lips as she twisted the blade deeper, drawing out a final, agonizing scream from the Skinwalker.
Winner: Aelina
The Wastes
The siblings didn't just endure—they thrived in cruelty. They laughed through torment, twisted pain into power, and met every challenge with savage joy.
But then came the Wastes.
The instructor's voice cut through the air. "You are not done. This is only the beginning. The Wastes await you. Survive the beasts, return with proof of your conquest. Fail, and there will be no place for you here."
Each sibling was cast alone into the Wastes. The creatures that roamed this barren land were blind, grotesque things—beasts that tore through flesh and bone, their hunger insatiable. But the siblings knew no fear.
Kael, ever the instigator, baited the beasts with his own blood, laughing as they came to tear him apart. He reveled in the chaos, in the raw violence.
Nyra walked among the creatures like a shadow, her blades silent and deadly. They didn't see her until it was too late.
Aelina stood still, watching the chaos unfold. She didn't flinch. When the beasts approached, she moved with precise, lethal strikes, cutting them down before they understood their mistake.
A Scourge, watching from a distance, almost found itself at the mercy of the siblings. It nearly died, but they didn't help.
And stranger things began to stir in the darkness. Nyra heard a voice in the dark that wasn't Velka's. It called her "Sister." Kael felt the pull of black blood seeping from his wounds—blood that wasn't his own, not even Lucien's. Aelina blacked out. When she woke, something had changed. A sickening feeling stirred within her.
They thought this was the trial.
It wasn't.
This was just the welcome mat.
The real test would come when one of them broke.
And something far older… smiled.
End of Chapter 8