The Curse Awakens

The Trial of Shadows

The trio moved deeper into the Hollowlands, their steps cautious and deliberate. The eerie silence of the place pressed in on them, broken only by the occasional rustle of unseen creatures.

Raven clutched her dagger tightly, her knuckles white. Each step seemed to draw her closer to something vast and malevolent. The curse within her pulsed faintly, a rhythmic reminder of the power it held—and the danger it posed.

Luna stopped abruptly, holding out a hand to signal them. “There’s something up ahead.”

Ashen squinted into the gloom. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Luna said. “But it feels… old.”

They crept forward until they reached a clearing. In the center stood a massive stone pedestal, covered in intricate carvings that seemed to shift and writhe as the shadows played over them.

“This is it,” Luna whispered. “The Trial of Shadows.”

Raven stepped closer, her heart pounding. “Trial?”

Luna nodded. “The Hollowlands tests everyone who seeks the Heart of Shadows. This is the first real challenge. If we fail…”

“We die,” Ashen finished grimly.

Raven swallowed hard, stepping up to the pedestal. The carvings seemed to respond to her presence, glowing faintly as her fingers brushed against the cold stone.

“What do we do?” she asked.

Luna studied the carvings, her eyes narrowing. “It’s a riddle. A test of wit, strength, and spirit. The pedestal will choose who faces the trial.”

Before Raven could respond, the carvings flared brightly, and the ground beneath her feet trembled.

“It’s you,” Luna said softly.

Of course, it was her. Raven took a deep breath, stepping back as the pedestal shifted and opened, revealing a spiral staircase leading downward into darkness.

“Looks inviting,” Ashen muttered.

“I’ll go with her,” Luna offered, but the pedestal emitted a low hum, and the staircase sealed itself the moment Raven stepped onto the first step.

“It wants me to go alone,” Raven said, her voice trembling.

Ashen grabbed her arm. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” she said firmly. She pulled free of his grasp, her eyes meeting his. “I’ll be fine.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “We’ll be here when you get back.”

With a final glance at her companions, Raven descended into the darkness.

The air grew colder as she moved deeper underground. The walls of the passage glimmered faintly with runes, casting just enough light for her to see. She gripped her dagger tightly, her senses on high alert.

The staircase ended in a circular chamber. In the center stood a figure—a tall, hooded shadow whose glowing red eyes pierced through the darkness.

“Welcome, cursed one,” the figure said, its voice echoing unnaturally. “You have come seeking the Heart of Shadows, but first, you must prove your worth.”

Raven straightened, trying to mask her fear. “What do you want from me?”

The figure extended a hand, and the room shifted around her. She was no longer in the chamber but in a familiar setting—a cozy living room with warm lighting and the scent of freshly baked bread.

It was her childhood home.

Raven’s breath caught in her throat as she saw her younger self sitting on the floor, playing with a set of carved wooden animals. Across the room, her parents sat on the couch, their laughter filling the air.

“Raven.”

She turned to see the hooded figure standing beside her, though the room’s warmth seemed to have no effect on it.

“This is your first trial: the Trial of Memory. To move forward, you must confront the pain that binds you to the curse.”

Before Raven could respond, the scene changed. The warmth disappeared, replaced by the acrid smell of smoke and the sound of shouts.

Her childhood home was burning.

“No,” she whispered, her chest tightening.

She saw herself again, older this time, standing amidst the chaos. Her hands glowed with an otherworldly light, her curse manifesting for the first time.

The memory played out like a nightmare. Her parents screamed for her to run, to save herself, as dark figures—Shadowborn—descended on the house.

“I couldn’t save them,” Raven choked, tears streaming down her face.

The hooded figure’s voice was cold. “You chose to run. You let them die.”

Raven’s grief turned to anger. “I was a child! I didn’t have a choice!”

The scene froze, and the hooded figure turned to her. “You will always have a choice. The curse does not define you—your choices do. Confront your guilt, or be consumed by it.”

Raven clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. The curse stirred within her, feeding on her pain, but she pushed it back.

“I couldn’t save them,” she said, her voice steady despite the tears. “But I can honor them by fighting for what’s right. I won’t let the curse control me.”

The hooded figure seemed to regard her for a moment, then nodded. The scene dissolved, and Raven found herself back in the chamber.

“You have passed the Trial of Memory,” the figure said. “But two trials remain. Prepare yourself, cursed one. The path ahead is treacherous.”

Before Raven could respond, the figure disappeared, and the chamber began to shift again, the floor trembling beneath her feet.

Raven tightened her grip on her dagger, determination burning in her chest. She had passed one trial, but the hardest challenges were still to come.