Moren's birthday had been incredible, and she'd enjoyed every moment of it. It had been magical for the first time in her life, as Heiko made sure the entire day was about her—with her favorite meals, sweet treats, and surprises carefully planned from the wee hours of the morning to the final moments of the night.
Mika and her family had arrived first thing and stayed all day, their laughter filling the house like music. Jaycen had insisted on hearing embarrassing childhood stories about Moren, while Jewel and Tiele decorated the courtyard with handmade paper lanterns. Even stoic little Matthew had gotten caught up in the fun, bringing Rose along with her slight baby bump showing.
Veska was right by Moren's side the entire day, determined to ensure her sister was having fun. She sang on a whim—sometimes dramatically off-key just to make Moren laugh—and pulled her onto the dance floor at every opportunity, not caring who was watching. Her presence had been a constant comfort like sunlight breaking through an overcast sky.
Moren had received gifts, of course—her family covered the table with them. But the ones that touched her most were the simpler things. A set of worn, secondhand books Veska had found in a tucked-away corner of the market—tales of love, magic, and distant stars. A bundle of soft, hand-stitched clothing from Mika and his family, all in shades that matched Moren's favorite flower, the silver moonlily.
She preferred these over any gemstone or enchanted trinket. They felt real. Thoughtful. They reminded her that she wasn't being celebrated for what she could do or represent—but for who she was.
Later, as she traced her fingers over the spine of one of the books—The Nightfall Garden, a story Vifra had scorned her for reading childish fantasy—Moren felt that same quiet sense of wonder she once had when reading by candlelight in secret, hidden beneath her bedcovers in Stormhaven before it was destroyed. Mika had found a copy and bought it on the spot.
She closed her eyes, the scent of parchment and cinnamon cake still lingering in her senses, and let her thoughts carry her toward dreams—of dancing lanterns, familiar laughter, and maybe even a song or two echoing into the night.
Moren lay in her bed, the soft sheets enveloping her in warmth and comfort after spending the last few weeks with her friends and family. Luna was resting on a nearby perch with her eyes closed.
The moon cast a dim glow through the window, casting shadows on her peaceful face. But suddenly, she was jolted awake by a sharp, icy sensation on her skin. Gasping, she sat up to see Lucius standing over her, his tall figure looming in the darkness. His expression was unreadable, but his intense gaze made her heart race. As she wiped the cold water from her eyes, she couldn't help but wonder what had prompted this unexpected wake-up call.
"Get up," Lucius growled and tossed a bucket on the floor. "Don't keep me waiting." He turned and skulked out of the room.
Moren jumped out of her bed and scrambled to find her clothes. She stumbled to turn on a light to get dressed as quickly as possible. She slipped on her boots and grabbed her belt, weapons, and cloak before running for the front door.
Lucius let out a quick exhalation. "You're pushing it, pup." He grumbled as he swiftly exited the room. "Don't make me slow down."
"Yes, Master Darkmoon," Moren replied, hurrying to catch up.
With intensity in their strides, the pair swiftly made their way out of the city and towards a pair of sleek, powerful horses waiting for them. They quickly secured their gear, and with a nod from Lucius, they took off at a fast and determined pace, leaving the city behind them. Hooves pounding against the ground echoed through the open plains as they rode towards their destination. The wind whipped through their hair, and the sun beat down on their backs, but they pushed onward without hesitation.
When they finally stopped an hour later, Moren stood at the edge of the dense, shadowy forest that loomed before her like a dark, ancient beast. The sun was setting, casting long, ominous shadows across the landscape. Lucius Darkmoon, the grizzled Veilborn Hunter, stood beside her, his expression grim and unreadable. "This was the beginning of what I call Hell Week, a week of grueling, relentless training designed to push you to the limits of your endurance and beyond." He turned to face Moren. "This isn't just about strength, Moren," Lucius said, his voice a low growl. "It's about survival. It's about facing the darkness within and coming out the other side stronger." He crossed his arms and stared at the young woman intensely. "You can stop at any time by saying the words "I Quit." But, if you do, then I will return you to your Uncle and will never offer you this opportunity again."
"I understand." Moren nodded, steeling herself for what was to come. She knew this training was necessary. She had chosen this path not out of vanity or pride but out of a deep, burning desire to change the world, to help those who could not help themselves. This was her crucible, the forge in which she would be tempered into something stronger, something more.
"Good, just know this, Moren," Lucius said, his gaze fixed on the dark forest. "By the end of it, you will either emerge stronger or be broken. There is no middle ground." He started to gather some firewood. "We are going to camp here for the night and get started first thing in the morning."
Moren helped get the fire going, its warm glow a small comfort in the stillness of the woods. She rolled out her bedroll while Lucius silently prepared a heavy stew, the scent of spices and root vegetables mingling with the smoke. She tried to speak with the Veilborn Hunter, but he only grunted in reply, eyes distant, focus elsewhere.
She ate slowly, savoring the warmth of the meal, aware of the quiet tension that lingered between them. Lucius cleaned up in silence and retreated into his bedroll without a word.
Left alone with the fading fire, Moren murmured a few quiet prayers to Myzoth, her voice barely louder than the crackling embers. Then she lay down, pulling her blanket tightly around her shoulders, and tried to find sleep beneath the weight of the night.
The first day of training began before the rising sun with a brutal endurance test. Under Lucius' guidance, Moren was led deep into the heart of the forest, where the towering trees nearly blocked out the sunlight. The air was thick and heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, creating an eerie atmosphere. In this forsaken place, Moren was stripped of her weapons at their campsite, leaving her defenseless and at the mercy of nature's challenges. Lucius had forbidden Moren from summoning her familiar until the end of the week to keep this training within the traditions of the Order. She had nothing but her wits and an unyielding determination burning in her heart to help her through this grueling trial.
The ancient forest was alive, pulsing with a mysterious energy that seemed to whisper secrets into the wind. With each step, Lucius forged ahead, pushing Moren to navigate through treacherous terrain and evade hidden traps. The dense canopy of trees blocked out most of the sunlight, casting a dark and foreboding atmosphere over the journey. Creatures lurked in the shadows, their ominous growls echoing through the tangled undergrowth. Every rustle and creak sent shivers down Moren's spine as he struggled to keep up with Lucius' relentless pace.
Moren's fingers trembled as she wiped the beads of sweat from her flushed face. The morning had been a grueling test of endurance, with Master Darkmoon pushing her to her limits during their trek through the woods. As they paused for a brief lunch break, Moren could feel every muscle in her body screaming in protest. The pain was unlike anything she had ever experienced before - a searing ache that threatened to bring her to her knees. But with determination burning in her chest, Moren pushed through, determined to prove herself and reach their final destination. Every step felt like walking on hot coals, but she refused to give up. She would show Master Darkmoon that she was strong enough to handle whatever challenges he threw at her.
Lucius grimaced as he watched her fight through the dense underbrush, her body a tangle of strained muscles as she forged ahead through the treacherous terrain. Every step was a brutal challenge, every breath a fierce battle against exhaustion. Despite the obstacles and the pain, she pushed on with an unrelenting determination to reach her goal. Even when she stumbled and fell, she rose again with a ferocious tenacity that refused to be defeated.
As the day dragged on, time seemed to stretch and bend like a rubber band, each challenge becoming increasingly brutal as Lucius pushed Moren to her breaking point. Every step felt like walking through molten lava or scaling a mountain of thorns. Her fears pressed down on her like a lead blanket, suffocating her with their intensity. And as night fell, the haunting calls of wolves echoed through the forest, their mournful cries only adding to the already oppressive atmosphere. Yet through it all, Moren stood tall and refused to give in. Her mind conjured up horrors beyond imagination, twisting and distorting reality until it was unrecognizable. But still, she remained unbroken, fueled by an unrelenting determination to overcome whatever lies ahead, no matter how insurmountable they seem.
As the sun descended below the horizon, Moren's legs felt like lead, and her feet dragged heavily with each step. When they finally stopped for the night, she nearly collapsed against a tall oak tree in their campsite, sliding to the ground with a deep sigh of relief. "One day down, six to go," she groaned, her muscles screaming in protest.
"It only gets worse from here," Lucius said, handing Moren her first hot meal all day. The aroma of savory stew wafted up from the bowl, momentarily tempting her senses before her fatigue took over. "Are you sure you don't want to quit?"
Moren savored each spoonful of the warm, comforting broth before shaking her head. "No, I can do this." She grunted as her body ached and throbbed from the long day of hiking. "Thank you for the food." Her exhaustion was overwhelming, but she knew she had to keep going if she wanted to reach her goal, to pass Hell Week.
Lucius hid his face with the hood of his cloak. "You're welcome," He mumbled and tended to the fire with a stick. "I suggest getting some sleep. You're gonna need it."
Moren's mind was in turmoil, but her body was exhausted. She mechanically finished her meal and collapsed against the tree, unable to fight off the overwhelming fatigue. As she drifted into a deep sleep, she couldn't help but wonder what the future held for her.
Day Two
Moren was abruptly jostled awake the following day by a rough shake from Lucius. She sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes and taking in her surroundings. The cool morning air nipped at her skin and caused goosebumps to rise on her arms. Her body ached from sleeping on the hard ground, and her muscles felt stiff and uncooperative. Gratefully, she accepted the bowl of nuts and berries that Lucius offered before he disappeared back into the woods for a few minutes. As Moren ate, she couldn't help but admire the vibrant colors surrounding her - the lush green leaves and deep brown trunks of the trees, the bright red berries that adorned the bushes. Her senses were awakened by the sounds of birds chirping and small animals scurrying through the underbrush. By the time Lucius returned with a sharp whistle, Moren felt more alert and ready for whatever adventure awaited them today.
"Hurry up, we're wasting precious daylight!" He snarled, slapping his hands together with a sharp clap.
The second day of their journey through the woods was a blur for Moren as she kept up with Lucius's brisk pace, only stopping occasionally to learn about tracking various animals or to identify different plants - some deadly, others safe to eat or use for medicine. The scent of damp earth and pine filled her nostrils as they traversed deeper into the thick forest, the sunlight filtering through the canopy above. She couldn't help but marvel at Lucius's knowledge of the wilderness and how effortlessly he moved through it. Despite her exhaustion, she felt a sense of exhilaration and purpose with each step.
"Looks like we'll have enough food for a few days," Lucius said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
Lucius held a large deer carcass, its coat matted with blood and dirt. He expertly wielded a sharp knife to skin and gut the animal, revealing tender, pink flesh underneath. As he worked, he explained the proper techniques to Moren, his movements fluid and precise.
Lucius's strong, agile hands expertly carved off the deer's hide, revealing the tender, pink flesh underneath. His movements were precise and efficient, the blade of his knife glinting in the firelight as he worked. The carcass of the deer lay nearby, its brown fur matted with blood.
Moren's eyes widened in fascinated horror as the fresh, raw meat glistened against the vibrant green of the forest floor and the dark brown of the deer's coat. The scent of blood filled her nostrils, and she couldn't tear her gaze away from the gruesome sight before her, mesmerized by the contrast between life and death in this brutal wilderness.
"Do you always hunt like this?" she asked, trying to distract herself from her stomach's protests.
Lucius shrugged. "It depends on what I'm hunting and where I am. Sometimes, it's easier to set traps or use a bow and arrow."
Moren couldn't imagine having that level of control and precision with bows. She had never been a hunter herself. Moren had never started a fire on her own before, let alone build a shelter or cook meat over an open flame. As Moren helped him gather firewood and set up camp, she couldn't help but feel grateful for his knowledge and expertise. She had never been able to start a fire on her own before, let alone build a shelter or cook meat over an open flame.
They sat around the campfire, their silence comfortable and unspoken. Moren savored the taste of her perfectly cooked meat, chewing slowly as she watched Lucius meticulously inspect his equipment. He ran his calloused hands over each item, his movements fluid and precise. The flames of the fire danced against his face, illuminating the lines and scars that told the story of his years of experience. Moren couldn't help but admire him; his confidence and expertise were evident in everything he did. As they continued eating and enjoying the fire's warmth, she felt grateful to have such a skilled companion by her side on their journey.
"I'll retake the first watch," Lucius said. Once they were settled by the fire, he started to work on preserving the hide. "Go rest."
As she lay down on her makeshift bedroll, Moren couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the events of the day - from being thrown into this unfamiliar world to witnessing Lucius's skilled hunting techniques. She wondered how long she could survive in this wilderness without his guidance and expertise.
But as she closed her eyes and listened to the faint sounds of animals rustling in the distance, she felt a sense of determination growing within her. She would do whatever it takes to learn and survive.
Day Three
On the third morning, under the moon's fading glow, Lucius took her to the very edge of a cliff a few hour's ride from their camp, the wind raking through their hair and clothes like talons. The ocean below churned with fury, its relentless waves crashing against the jagged rocks in a deafening roar. Entranced by the wild beauty and danger before her, Lucius handed her a thick rope, his eyes gleaming with a fierce and reckless determination.
"Climb down," Lucius ordered, his voice cutting through the wind. "And don't stop until you reach the bottom."
Moren's eyes widened in terror as she peered over the cliff's edge, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. But fear didn't stop her. She gritted her teeth and grabbed onto the rope, ignoring the searing pain as her raw palms struggled to hold on. The descent was a blur of agony and determination, each impact against the jagged rock below only fueling her desperate determination to reach the bottom. And when she finally did, battered and bruised, she knew the real challenge was still ahead. Her muscles screamed with every move as she dragged herself back up, fighting against gravity and exhaustion until she collapsed at Lucius's feet, victorious but utterly spent.
"Good," Lucius said, a rare note of approval in his voice. "But this is only the beginning; you need to do it 3 more times before we can move on with our day."
Moren let out a shuddering breath and pushed herself back to her feet. "Yes, Master Darkmoon." She bit out, moving to the cliff's edge to start all over again.
"You can say the words, and it can all be over, pup," Lucius said, hoping the girl would take the offer. "You're doing better than I expected, but you should stop before you get hurt."
"No," Moren said coldly. "I won't quit."
Lucius shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself." He muttered, watching Moren start her slow trek back down the Cliffside.
The days blurred together into one long, relentless routine as Lucius pushed Moren to her limits. She would often collapse in exhaustion after finally receiving a hot meal at the end of the day. As they spent more time together, Moren couldn't help but start picking up on some of the man's mannerisms and habits. Sometimes, she would catch him staring at her with a sad expression or trying to hide a smirk when she impressed him. Other times, he would bark at her with increasing intensity if she showed signs of fatigue, insisting that she take a break and have a snack. Despite his gruff demeanor, Moren couldn't deny that there was a glimmer of care and concern behind his actions.
Under Lucius' tutelage, she learned how to track and take down some of the most dangerous creatures in existence - vampires, ghouls, dragons, and other magical beasts that had plagued the realm for centuries. With each lesson, he shared stories of his own encounters and the long, hidden history of their revered group, the Veilborn Hunters. She soaked in every word with wide-eyed fascination, eager to prove herself as a capable hunter and protector of the innocent.
The secrets of their craft unfolded before her like a carefully crafted tapestry, revealing both beauty and darkness in equal measure. And with each passing day, she grew stronger and more skilled, ready to face whatever dangers lay ahead. His words about the mysterious art of Hemocraft lingered in Moren's mind, but he always seemed hesitant to delve deeper into the topic.
Moren wanted to know more and understand its secrets, but his evasive behavior only fueled my curiosity further. Was he hiding something from her? Or was it simply fear that held him back? Moren's desire for knowledge battled against her respect for his boundaries.
Day Seven
The last day of Hell Week was upon Moren, and the weather seemed to reflect her inner turmoil. The cold and gray sky threatened rain, mirroring the heaviness in her heart. Her body ached, and she could barely stand, but her determination blazed in her eyes as she faced Lucius. She questioned if she had gone too far, yet couldn't bear the thought of giving up now.
Amidst the shadows, Lucius thrusted his sword towards her. "You will be fighting to survive today," he states coldly and directly. "Your life depends on your ability to use any weapon at your disposal, not just those you have trained with. No magic, just pure skill and determination."
The clash of their weapons echoed through the air, a symphony of metal and sweat. Moren's heart raced as she faced off against Lucius in a battle that would be etched into her memory for years to come. His movements were swift and unpredictable, like a wild beast unleashed, his sword flashing in the light. Each strike was calculated with the aim of testing Moren's defenses and finding her weaknesses. But she refused to back down, her own blade meeting his with fierce determination. Her muscles burned with exertion, but she pushed on, drawing on every lesson she had learned and every ounce of strength left within her. The ground beneath their feet trembled with the force of their blows, each fighter refusing to give in to the other. This was a battle that would go down as one that Moren knew she would never forget.
Lucius lunged, his sword arcing toward Moren with blinding speed. She met his strike with a powerful block, the clash of metal ringing out like a challenge to the gods.
They moved together in a deadly dance, swords clashing in a flurry of strikes and parries. Lucius pushed her relentlessly, each of his blows designed to test her reflexes, endurance, and will. But Moren was ready. She countered each strike with a precision that spoke of the countless hours she had dedicated to this training. Her movements were fluid, her footwork impeccable, and for every attack Lucius made, she had a response.
As the battle wore on, it became clear that Moren had changed. No longer was she the hesitant heiress seeking to prove herself. She was a warrior, sharp and determined, her purpose clear in every swing of her sword. Lucius, too, noticed the change, a slight nod of approval barely perceptible in the midst of their combat.
She parried a downward slash aimed at her head, the force of the blow vibrating up her arms. Gritting her teeth, she sidestepped a follow-up thrust, twisting her body to avoid the sharp edge of Lucius's blade. She countered with a swift strike toward his side, but Lucius anticipated it, deflecting her sword with a flick of his wrist and spinning away.
The two circled each other, their breaths coming in steady, measured intervals. Lucius's face was calm, almost serene, as he watched Moren. He feinted to the left, then swept his sword low, aiming for her legs. Moren leaped back, narrowly avoiding the strike, and retaliated with a quick overhead slash. Lucius blocked it effortlessly, their swords locking together momentarily as they pushed against each other.
"Good," Lucius murmured, his voice low and even. "But you'll need to do better."
Moren's response was to press the attack. She stepped in close, forcing Lucius to backpedal as she unleashed a flurry of strikes—one aimed at his shoulder, another at his ribs, and a final, powerful thrust toward his chest. Lucius parried each blow with skilled precision, his movements almost lazy in their grace, but Moren didn't relent.
She shifted her stance, pivoting on her heel to deliver a spinning backhanded slash. Lucius ducked under the swing, rolling to the side and coming up with his sword raised. He lunged again, and their blades met in a fierce clash, sparks flying from the force of the impact.
Moren felt the strain in her arms, but she held firm, pushing back with all her strength. She broke away from the lock, pivoting to the side as Lucius's sword came down in a powerful overhead strike. The blade whistled past her ear, narrowly missing her as she dodged to the left.
Lucius was relentless, pressing forward with a series of rapid strikes that left Moren no room to breathe. She parried one, two, three blows, each deflection pushing her closer to the edge of the clearing. Her foot caught on a root, and she stumbled, barely managing to block a horizontal slash aimed at her midsection.
But then, something clicked. The training, the pain, the exhaustion—all of it coalesced into a single moment of clarity. Moren's movements became fluid, instinctive. She no longer reacted to Lucius's attacks; she anticipated them. When he thrust forward, she sidestepped and brought her sword down in a precise arc, forcing him to retreat. When he swung wide, she ducked and countered with a strike aimed at his exposed side.
Moren nearly lost her nerve to face him when Lucius shifted into his werewolf form, and his attacks became almost unpredictable. She had to fight to keep from cowering in fear from his ferocious snarls and growls.
The brutal battle raged on, every blow inflicting agonizing pain upon Moren's battered and bruised body. Yet she refused to surrender, her unwavering determination fueling her every move. And in a final, desperate surge of strength, she disarmed Lucius with a mighty strike that sent his sword soaring through the air and clattering to the ground in defeat. Before Lucius could react, Moren's blade was at his throat, her chest heaving with exertion.
Lucius took a step back, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath. His eyes shone with a mixture of admiration and pride. "Well done, Moren," Lucius said, his voice hoarse from exertion and deeper from his transformation. "You have proven yourself worthy of praise." As he shifted back to his human form, sweat glistened on Lucius' forehead, trickling down in small rivulets. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and adrenaline, and the tension between them crackled like lightning.
Moren stood tall, her muscles still taut with the effort of their battle. She met Lucius' gaze with equal intensity, a sense of accomplishment swelling within him at the praise from his mentor. Together, they had pushed each other to their limits and emerged stronger for it.
Moren fell to the ground, gasping for air as she struggled to regain her composure. Against all odds, she had made it through Hell Week. A tired chuckle escaped her lips at first, but soon, she laughed triumphantly in the middle of the forest, reveling in her achievement."Thank you, Master Darkmoon." She cackled as she looked up at her mentor with a smile to rival the sun.
With strength and determination, Lucius pulled her to her feet. The weight of her past burdens seemed to melt away as she gazed ahead at the daunting road that lay before her. This was only the beginning of her journey, filled with battles to be fought and wrongs to be righted. Her body still ached from the grueling Hell Week, but it had forged her into a warrior, prepared for whatever challenges came her way. With each step, she could feel the lessons seared into her soul, giving her the courage and resilience to face whatever lay ahead. She was ready now, ready to change the world one battle at a time.
Lucius beckoned with a warm smile, his eyes shining with excitement. "Come along, pup," He chirped. "Let's head back to camp, where I will whip up a grand feast to celebrate our successful day."
"Right behind you, Master," Moren said with a wicked grin as she slowly walked behind Lucius as the pain forced her to slow her strides.
After returning to the camp, Moren rested against a tree as Lucius went to work on their meal. The scent of smoke and roasted meat filled the air a short time later as Lucius moved around his makeshift cooking station that he set up around the firepit. The tantalizing aroma of herbs and spices wafted from the bubbling pots, making her stomach grumble in anticipation. It was a welcoming sight after a long day of exploring.
"Where did you learn to cook like this?" Moren asked in amazement as she watched him warming up another pot on the fire to make some biscuits.
Lucius chuckled as the aroma of seasoned meat filled the air, a mouth-watering combination of savory and smoky scents. The spices he used tickled the nose, making the anticipation for the meal even greater. The meat sizzled and browned on the grill as Lucius expertly turned it, the flames licking at the edges and creating a mouth-watering char
on his makeshift grill. "You pick up a few things here and there when you have been at this as long as I have." He explained, making rough biscuits and tossing them into the hot pan. "You will have to learn how to do this as well, I won't always be around to hold your hand."
"That makes perfect sense," Moren agreed, her voice filled with determination as she pushed herself off the sturdy tree trunk. Dust and bits of bark clung to her clothes, evidence of her recent struggle to steady herself. With a determined stride, she made her way closer to her Master, a look of fierce loyalty in her eyes. "What can I do to assist you?"
Lucius gave his apprentice a wry smile, crinkles forming around the corners of his eyes. "Just stir the stew," he instructed her with a wave of his flour-dusted hand. "While I work on the biscuits and rotate the sizzling meat on the grill." The enticing aroma of herbs and spices wafted through the kitchen, mingling with the warm scent of freshly baked bread. "I know you've been working hard all week," Lucius added, a hint of pride in his voice. "You've earned this meal tonight."
As they finished cooking, Moren was given a hefty portion, which she ate with gusto and gratitude. "So good," She mumbled with a mouthful of food. "Thank you so much." She swallowed, grabbed one of the biscuits, and took a large bite.
"Slow down before you choke," Lucius chided lightly before taking a bite of meat. "I promise that the food is not going anywhere."
Moren's cheeks flushed a bright red as she swallowed another bite and nodded. "Right, sorry about that." She said, more than a little embarrassed.
Lucius snorted and shook his head. "You are not the first recruit to eat like a starving animal after Hell Week," He said, giving a look with a twinkle of mirth. "One day, you will have your own student to train and will see them do the same thing on their final day."
"So what happens now?' Moren asked, setting her spoon in her bowl.
"That is up to you, Moren," Lucius replied, setting his bowl on the ground. "I can train you as you are and will let you remain with your family," He explained, resting his hands on his knees. "Or, I can induct you into my Order, teach you the art of Hemocraft, and put you through the Veilborne Trials, but you will never be the same again." He saw that Moren was going to answer immediately but cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Sleep on it. We can talk more about it in a few days."
Moren nodded her head and helped herself to a second helping and spent the rest of the meal asking him questions about his past adventures. She enjoyed learning more about Lucius' younger days when he traveled with Jace, Heiko, Morgana, and the rest of their group.
After all the food was gone, Moren used Minor Manifestation to clean all the pots and dishes while Lucius went over to mess with a roll of canvas that had been sitting in the campsite for the past week.
"What is that, Master?" Moren asked, stacking the clean dishes next to his bag.
Lucius gave her a mysterious smile. "You'll see." He said cryptically and returned to work, driving in the last few stakes and inserting the wood poles one at a time. When he was finished, a two-person tent made of white canvas-like material and wooden stakes and poles. Lucius reached into a belt pouch, pulled out a blue circular orb the size of a chestnut, and tapped it against the tent. "Please grant me shelter and warmth." The tent gave off a soft glow of blue light for a moment before it disappeared. "Moren, come take a look."
Moren gave him a curious look but followed as he moved into the tent. She pulled back the flap and gasped. "Incredible." She murmured, stepping into the tent, her eyes widening as she took in the unexpected coziness and warmth of the space. The room is far more spacious than it appeared from the outside, with wooden walls lined with shelves full of arcane books, mysterious vials, and trinkets from distant lands. The scent of herbs and incense lingers in the air, mingling with the crackling of the fire burning brightly in the stone fireplace, casting a soft orange glow across the room. "It's a real wizard's tent!" She exclaimed, walking down the flight of wooden stairs.
A large, fur-covered chair dominates the center of the room, facing a small round table laden with scrolls, a glowing crystal ball, and a few peculiar objects that Moren can't quite identify. The flickering flames cast shadows on the rough-hewn walls, where an assortment of ancient weapons and tools hang, each one looking more curious than the last.
The floor is covered in thick, woven rugs that give the room a sense of warmth and comfort as if it were a place to relax as much as it is a place to study the arcane. A large cauldron simmers gently over the fire, its contents bubbling and releasing occasional puffs of fragrant steam.
Moren's gaze is drawn to a bookshelf in the corner, where a few books appear to hover slightly above the shelves as if held by invisible hands. The room feels alive, as if it has been waiting for her arrival, inviting her to uncover its secrets. The tent is more than just a shelter—it's a sanctuary of knowledge and power, where the mundane and the magical intertwine seamlessly. "Incredible." She breathed
"Jace had it after our old friend became a recluse in his tower and I figured that it could use a new owner." He smirked at Moren's child-like excitement as she moved around to look at everything. "We never got around to cleaning the place out, but Jace and I agree that you should keep this."
"Wait, really?" Moren gasped as her head snapped in Lucius' direction, and her jaw dropped slightly.
"Yes, really," Lucius mused, leaning against a far wall. "I prefer to sleep under the stars, and it would be a waste to see it sitting in a box somewhere at your Uncle's home collecting dust." He opened his arms and gestured to the entire room. "Consider this a gift for surviving Hell Week."
Moren rushed forward and hugged the man, thanking him repeatedly before moving around the tent again, looking at the titles on the bookshelves and taking stock of everything that had been left behind by the previous owner.
"You can summon your familiar, and I will see you in the morning, pup," Lucius said, making his way up the stairs. "Don't stay up too late."
"Night, Master," Moren called out before preparing to summon her feather friend. She beamed when
As Luna appeared on her plane, a burst of joyful laughter echoed through Moren's mind. Happy hoots filled Moren's ears as Luna flapped around her in a dizzying circle before gracefully landing on her shoulder. Her soft feathers brushed against Moren's cheek affectionately before she took off again, soaring through the room with glee. "I missed you too, Luna," Moren exclaimed with a smile, feeling overwhelmed by the love and excitement radiating from her familiar. The bond between them was unbreakable, and Moren couldn't imagine her life without Luna by her side.
'Missed greatly!' Luna said through their link and landed on the back of the fur-covered chair. 'Worried, a lot'
"I understand your concern, Luna, but I'm fine. In fact, I'm better than fine," Moren reassured as she moved to lay on the foot of the large bed in the corner. "I passed his rigorous test, and he has agreed to take me on as his apprentice." She heard the sound of wings flapping before Luna gracefully landed on the bed next to her. "It was challenging and exhausting, but I succeeded."
"Rest," Luna said with a short hoot. "I protect." The owl fluttered to the mantle above the fireplace for the best vantage point.
Moren giggled and ruffled the owl's feathers in a loving gesture. "I don't plan to be awake much longer," She grunted, sitting back up to take up her boots before crawling to the middle of the bed and collapsed into the middle of the bed when the smell of mildew sheets reached her nose. "Sleep now, deep clean tomorrow." She muttered. After a few quick casts of Minor Manifestation again cleaned the sheets and changed the mildew smell to soft lavender. Moren was sound asleep when she closed her eyes.
After completing her grueling Hell Week with Lucius Darkmoon, Moren felt both physically and mentally exhausted. The woods, which had once seemed ominous and foreboding, now offered a strange sense of solace. The once-intimidating shadows cast by the towering trees now felt like familiar companions, their whispers no longer threatening but almost encouraging.
In the aftermath of the intense training, Moren found herself in a period of quiet reflection. Lucius had given her space, knowing that the decision she faced was not one to be rushed. The question of whether to join the Veilborne Order loomed over her like a dark cloud. The Order represented a path fraught with danger and moral complexity but also one that offered power and a sense of belonging she had never truly experienced.
The campsite they shared had become a temporary home. It was a simple setup: a fire pit that crackled with life in the center, a few logs and rocks arranged for seating, and a couple of tents—one of which was a Wizard's tent, its interior far larger than its exterior would suggest. It was in this tent that Moren sought refuge from her turbulent thoughts.
Moren had taken it upon herself to clean the tent in her free time, finding comfort in the mundane task. It was a way to ground herself, to focus on something tangible when her mind threatened to spiral into uncertainty. As she dusted off the shelves and carefully rearranged the books, she couldn't help but feel a sense of connection to the knowledge contained within them. She wondered how much of it Lucius had learned through experience and how much remained for him to discover.
Her thoughts wandered to the intense training she had endured. The relentless physical challenges, the mental tests that had pushed her to her limits, and the brutal lessons in control and discipline. The Order demanded more than just skill and strength; it required a willingness to embrace the darker aspects of one's nature.
As she worked, Lucius would occasionally pass by the tent, his presence a silent reminder of the choice that lay ahead. He never pressured her, never offered unsolicited advice. Instead, Lucius simply observed, his gaze thoughtful and perhaps even a bit wistful. Moren wondered if he saw something of himself in her—a reflection of his own past decisions and struggles with the same choice.
The decision weighed heavily on her. Joining the Order would mean embracing a part of herself she had long tried to suppress. It would mean walking a path where morality was often a matter of perspective, where the line between right and wrong blurred into shades of gray. But it would also mean power—power to protect those she cared about, to change the world as she had always dreamed.
Moren paused in her cleaning, her hand resting on a book that felt oddly warm to the touch. She realized it wasn't just the training that had changed her; it was everything that had led up to it. Her journey, losses, and victories had all shaped her into the person Moren was now. The question was no longer whether she was strong enough to join the Order but whether she was willing to accept the consequences of that strength.
The sun was beginning to set on the third day after Hell Week, casting long shadows across the forest floor. The air grew cooler, and the sounds of the woods shifted to the nocturnal chorus. Moren stepped out of the tent, the book still in her hand, and looked towards Lucius, who was tending to the fire.
"I've made my decision," she said quietly, her voice steady but laced with an undertone of resolve.
Lucius looked up, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of curiosity and understanding. He nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"I'll join the Order," Moren said, her words firm. "As much as I love spending time with my family, I need to get stronger before I arrive at White Stone. This week has been one of the hardest and most rewarding of my life." Moren gave Lucius a deep, respectful bow. "I am in your hands, Mast Darkmoon.
Lucius smiled—a rare, genuine smile that softened his usually stoic expression. "Then we have much to discuss," he replied, motioning for her to sit by the fire.
As Moren settled down beside him, she felt a strange sense of calm wash over her. The decision had been made, and now, for the first time in what felt like forever, she knew exactly what her next steps would be. The future was still uncertain, but it was a future she was ready to face, whatever it might bring.
Lucius began slowly. "Very well. But you must understand the Veilborne Trials is more than just a ritual. It is a bond that ties you to the darkness within and around you. It sharpens your senses but also exposes you to the evils you are sworn to fight."
He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "The ritual is dangerous, and not everyone survives it. Those who do are never the same. Your life's blood will be altered, and your body will become something... more but also something less. You will gain strength, speed, heightened senses—but at a cost."
"What is the cost?" Moren asked softly as Luna fluttered over and landed on her knee to comfort her. She ran her fingers through Luna's feathers as Lucius seemed to be taking his time to find the right words.
Lucius met her gaze, his eyes dark with the weight of his own experience. "The cost is your humanity. You will walk the line between the monster and the hunter, forever bound to the darkness you fight. The temptation to lose yourself to the beast will always be a constant struggle."
A silence fell between them, the forest seeming to hold its breath as Moren considered his words. She knew this was her path, but hearing it laid out so plainly brought a new level of understanding—and fear.
But fear was not something Moren would allow to control her. She had faced too much, lost too much, to back down now. She squared her shoulders, meeting Lucius's gaze with a determined resolve.
"I understand the risks," she said, her voice steady. "But I also understand the need. I won't let the darkness win. I'll fight it, within and without."
Lucius watched her for a moment longer and then nodded. "Then we begin the ritual at dawn. Rest tonight, Moren. Tomorrow, you will face the trial. And when you rise from it, you will be reborn—one way or another."
Moren swallowed hard, nodding her agreement. She knew sleep would not come easy that night, but she also knew that this was the path she had chosen. She would face whatever came next with the same strength and determination that had brought her this far.
As she lay down in her tent, the forest around her alive with the sounds of the night, Moren closed her eyes and prepared herself for what was to come. The decision had been made. Now, all that was left was to see it through.
Moren woke early the following day and exited the tent to find Lucius sitting by the fire, placing something under his cloak. "Morning, Master," she greeted and sat across from him as the smell of smoke and coffee filled the air.
"Morning," Lucius said, taking a sip of steaming coffee from his cup. "This is your last chance to change your mind." He held his cup with both hands. "Are you sure about this?"
Moren nodded her head as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Yes, I am sure about going through the trial," She affirmed with a confident smile. "I won't turn back now, Master." Moren sipped on the bitter liquid more to wake up than to enjoy it.
Lucius took a long drink of his coffee and set the cup down on the ground. "Then we should get started." He said, standing up and gesturing to her tent. "I recommend you lay down for this part of it."
After re-entering the tent, Moren sat on the foot of the bed as Lucius handed her a clear vial the size of an apple filled with a dark liquid inside. "I just need to drink this?" She asked, accepting the vial, and looked at the stern expression on her Master's face.
"Yes," Lucius said hoarsely as his hand disappeared under his cloak.
Moren took a deep breath, her hand trembling slightly as she uncorked the vial of the secret elixir known only to the Veilborne. The pungent odor of rotting plants from the vial made her wince. The dark, viscous liquid within seemed to shimmer with a life of its own, an eerie glow reflecting off its surface. Without hesitation, she brings the vial to her lips and drinks it in one swift motion. She gagged from the aftertaste and almost threw up, but she managed to hold it down.
Almost immediately, a searing pain erupts from within her, spreading like wildfire through her veins. She gasps, the vial slipping from her grasp and shattering on the ground. Her knees buckle, and she collapses to the floor, her hands clawing at the earth as if trying to anchor herself against the agony tearing through her body.
Her senses, once keen and sharp, now spiral out of control. The world around her blurs and distorts—colors too vibrant, sounds too loud, scents too overwhelming. She can feel the rush of blood in her veins, the rapid pounding of her heart echoing in her ears like a drumbeat.
The pain intensifies, her muscles contracting and spasming uncontrollably. She lets out a choked cry, her vision narrowing to a tunnel as darkness creeps in from the edges. The once-familiar sensations now assault her with an intensity that threatens to tear her apart.
Through the haze of agony, Moren clings to a single thought—survival. She knows this is the price she must pay to gain the power she seeks, to transform into something more than human, something more potent. But at this moment, all she could do was endure. Her body and mind were pushed to the brink as the liquid took hold.
As the torment peaked, she felt something shift within her, a terrifying and exhilarating change. Her senses begin to recalibrate, the pain receding into a dull throb. The world around her slowly comes back into focus, sharper and more precise. The scents, the sounds, the colors—everything is heightened, but now she can control it, harness it.
"You will survive this, little Ember," Ceyanna's voice echoed through her mind. "You have a destiny to fulfill."
Moren focused on her patron's voice as her body screamed for a moment of peace that never came. She felt her mind grow fuzzy as Ceyanne's presence wrapped around her body like a warm blanket, and everything went dark.
"Sleep,"
Lucius picked his apprentice off the floor and set her in the middle of the bed. He wiped the sweat from Moren's forehead and sat on the edge of the bed. Lucius reached over to hold Moren's hand as she screamed through another wave of pain. He ignored the pain in his hand from her power grip and never let go. In his other hand, he clutched a silver locket tightly in his palm. "Forgive me." He mumbled as he prepared to stay by her side as long as it took.
Hours later, Moren lay sprawled on her bed, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths, her body drenched in a sheen of sweat that glistened under the dim light. Each inhale felt like fire in her lungs, a testament to the grueling ordeal she had just endured. The Veilborne Trial had been a crucible, reshaping her from within, leaving her no longer the person she once was. Her mind buzzed with newfound clarity and purpose, and as she gazed at the ceiling, she realized that the world awaited the change she was destined to bring.
Moren sensed a new presence emitting a soft growl in the depths of her thoughts. Moren glanced over and saw Lucius dozing beside her, slumped over the edge of the bed and clutching her hand.
Moren let a tired smile cross her face and closed her eyes as she heard the flapping of wings and a short hoot before sleep retook her.