Kaelith's charge was reckless. His knife—a simple blade he had used for mundane tasks in the real world—seemed woefully inadequate against the towering, shadowy figure before him. But he didn't care. The adrenaline pumping through his veins drowned out any second-guessing, and the desire to prove himself burned brighter than the fear that gnawed at his gut.
The red-eyed beast didn't move until the last possible moment. As Kaelith neared it, knife in hand, the creature swirled, its form distorting like smoke caught in a gust of wind. Kaelith's blade slashed through nothing, the resistance he had braced for nonexistent. His feet stumbled on the cracked ground beneath him, and he barely managed to catch himself before falling.
A cold, dark laugh echoed around him. It wasn't the voice of Elowen this time—it was something far more sinister, far more familiar. He whipped around to face the creature, his breath heavy. It stood before him again, its glowing red eyes unblinking, a mocking smirk in its voice.
"You really think you can fight me?" the shadow growled, its voice a guttural whisper that sent a chill down Kaelith's spine.
His hands tightened around the knife, sweat slipping down his temple as he held the blade in front of him. "I'll do whatever it takes."
The shadow's laugh rumbled once more, like thunder in the distance. Its form rippled again, but this time, it didn't simply shift into smoke. It began to take on a shape—his shape. Kaelith's eyes widened in shock as the creature solidified into a mirror image of himself, but darker, more menacing, with those same glowing red eyes staring back at him from a twisted version of his own face.
"What… what the hell?" Kaelith breathed, his heart hammering in his chest.
The shadow-Kaelith smiled—a wicked, knowing grin that sent a jolt of fear through him. "You're weak," it said, its voice dripping with malice. "You've always been weak. And you always will be."
Kaelith's stomach churned. He had heard those words before—countless times, from countless people. His father, before his death. The other kids in the streets. Even the world itself seemed to echo that sentiment every day of his life. But hearing it now, from his own twisted reflection, was like a knife to the gut.
The shadow-Kaelith stepped forward, its movements slow and deliberate. "You think this trial will change anything? You think you'll become stronger? No. You'll fail. Just like you always do."
"Shut up," Kaelith hissed, taking a step back, his knife trembling in his grip.
The shadow ignored him, its voice growing louder, more insistent. "No one cares about you, Kaelith. No one ever has. You're alone. Powerless. Worthless."
"Shut up!" Kaelith shouted this time, his anger boiling over.
The shadow smirked again, taking another step forward. "You can't shut me up. I am you."
With a snarl, Kaelith lunged at the shadow, his knife flashing in the dim light of the desolate landscape. But the shadow moved with inhuman speed, sidestepping his attack effortlessly. Before Kaelith could react, the shadow slammed its fist into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.
Kaelith staggered back, clutching his stomach in pain, his knees buckling as he struggled to stay on his feet. The shadow loomed over him, its eyes glowing brighter, feeding off his weakness.
"You're pathetic," it spat, its voice like venom. "You're not a fighter. You're just a scared little boy, pretending to be strong."
Kaelith gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand despite the pain. He refused to give in. He had spent his entire life fighting against those words, fighting against the weakness that had always threatened to consume him. And he wasn't going to let some twisted version of himself tell him otherwise.
"I'm not… weak," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper.
The shadow laughed again, louder this time. "You can barely stand. You're clinging to life by a thread, and yet you still deny it? Face the truth, Kaelith. You're nothing."
Kaelith's vision blurred as the shadow's words echoed in his mind. His body screamed in protest, every muscle aching, every breath labored. But even as his body faltered, something deep inside him refused to break. A spark of defiance—small, but burning bright—ignited in his chest.
"I… am not… nothing," he whispered, his voice growing stronger with each word. "I'm still here. And as long as I'm still here, I'll keep fighting."
The shadow's smile faltered, its red eyes narrowing. "Fool."
Before it could strike again, Kaelith forced himself to his feet. The pain in his body seemed to fade as that spark of defiance grew, blossoming into something more. He wasn't sure where the strength was coming from—whether it was desperation or sheer willpower—but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he wasn't going to let this twisted reflection of himself win.
With a shout, Kaelith lunged at the shadow once more, but this time, he didn't aim for the body. He aimed for the heart—the core of the fear and doubt that had plagued him for so long.
The shadow moved to block him, but Kaelith was faster. His knife plunged into the center of the shadow's chest, sinking deep into the dark, swirling mass. The creature let out a shriek of pain, its form flickering and distorting as Kaelith twisted the blade.
For a moment, Kaelith thought he had won. But then, the shadow's eyes flared, and with a burst of force, it knocked him back, sending him sprawling to the ground. The knife slipped from his grasp, clattering across the cracked earth.
Kaelith gasped for breath, his body trembling from the effort. The shadow staggered, its form still flickering, but it hadn't been defeated. Not yet.
"You think that's enough?" the shadow rasped, its voice now strained. "You think you can kill me?"
Kaelith struggled to rise, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. "I… don't have to kill you," he said, his voice hoarse. "I just have to accept you."
The shadow froze, its red eyes widening in surprise.
"I know what you are," Kaelith continued, his breathing ragged. "You're not my enemy. You're my fear. My doubt. Everything I've tried to run from." He pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly but standing tall. "But I'm done running. I'm done being afraid."
The shadow glared at him, its form rippling with barely contained fury. "You think you can just accept me? You think that will make you stronger?"
Kaelith met the shadow's gaze, his resolve hardening. "Yes. Because I'm not weak. Not anymore."
For a long moment, the shadow said nothing. Then, slowly, it began to dissolve, its form unraveling like smoke in the wind. The red glow in its eyes faded, and the malice that had once radiated from it diminished. As the shadow disappeared, Kaelith felt a strange sense of peace wash over him. The pain in his body ebbed away, replaced by a calm clarity.
He had faced his fear—and he had won.
The desolate landscape around him began to shift and change. The gray sky brightened, the cracks in the ground mended themselves, and the oppressive weight that had hung over him lifted. Kaelith looked around, realizing that the trial was over.
He had passed.
A voice echoed in his mind—Elowen's voice, cool and distant. "Well done, Kaelith. You've taken the first step. But this is only the beginning."
Kaelith closed his eyes, his body relaxing as exhaustion finally caught up with him. He had survived the soul trial. And now, as he drifted into unconsciousness, he knew that his journey had truly begun.
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