God’s Tree

The sentinel stepped back, its massive form barely fitting between the towering trees.

"The trial has three parts."

"Each will test a different aspect of your strength."

"Body. Mind. Spirit."

Kaelred nodded slowly, mentally preparing himself.

The sentinel's eyes glowed brighter.

"If you fail any part of the trial—"

"You will not leave this place."

A heavy silence hung in the air.

Kaelred swallowed hard.

"…Understood."

The sentinel raised a massive clawed hand and pointed toward the dense mist beyond.

"Step forward, Kaelred."

"Face the first trial."

"Face the Trial of the Body."

The moment Kaelred stepped forward, the world shifted.

The forest around him vanished, swallowed by an endless white void.

Then—

The first enemy appeared.

It was himself.

A perfect copy.

Same stance.

Same weapons.

Same cold determination in its eyes.

Kaelred's breath hitched.

Then—

His clone attacked.

Kaelred barely had time to block the first strike.

Steel clashed against steel, and the force rattled his bones.

His clone was fast.

Too fast.

It moved like him—but better.

Sharper.

Stronger.

Kaelred gritted his teeth.

"Alright, then."

He kicked off the ground, spinning his dagger into a reverse grip, and lunged forward.

The clone did the exact same thing.

A perfect mirror.

Every attack Kaelred made, his opponent countered flawlessly.

Every step, every feint, every dodge—

Matched.

He was fighting someone who knew his every thought before he even made it.

This wasn't just a battle.

This was a war against himself.

And it was a fight he was losing.

Kaelred's breath was ragged, his arms burning from exertion.

His clone wasn't slowing down.

But then—

A thought hit him.

If the clone was a perfect copy of him—

Then it would think like him too.

Which meant—

It would expect him to fight logically.

Kaelred's eyes narrowed.

Then—

He did the unexpected.

He let go of his weapon.

His dagger dropped mid-swing—

And in that split second of hesitation, Kaelred drove his knee into the clone's ribs.

A crack echoed in the white void.

His copy stumbled back.

And in that instant—

Kaelred didn't hesitate.

He tackled it, slamming his opponent to the ground, and drove his elbow into its throat.

The clone struggled.

Then—

It faded into dust.

The white void shattered.

Kaelred collapsed to his knees, panting hard.

The sentinel's voice rumbled through the air.

"You have passed the Trial of the Body."

"But your trials are far from over."

Kaelred pushed himself to his feet, body aching but determined.

"I figured as much," he muttered.

The sentinel's gaze burned like embers in the mist.

"Prepare yourself, Kaelred."

"The Trial of the Mind awaits."

Kaelred stood motionless, his breath still ragged from the last battle. His heart pounded in his chest, sweat trailing down his forehead.

The first trial had tested his body, pushing him to the limits of his endurance. But as the white void around him reformed, he knew this next challenge would be something far worse.

The Sentinel's voice rumbled once more, a deep, vibrating force that seemed to shake reality itself.

"You have proven your strength in body."

"Now, you must prove your strength in mind."

"Prepare yourself, Kaelred."

"For the Trial of the Mind begins now."

Kaelred barely had a moment to catch his breath before the world shifted again.

The mist thickened, curling around him like unseen hands. The weight of the first trial still clung to his body, the ache in his muscles a reminder that he had already pushed himself further than he should have.

But there was no time to dwell.

Because the second trial had already begun.

At first, there was nothing.

No sound. No movement. Just an empty void stretching into eternity.

Then—

A whisper.

Soft. Indistinct.

Then another.

Then a dozen.

Kaelred turned sharply, daggers ready, but there was nothing there.

Nothing except shadows shifting at the edge of his vision.

Then—

The whispering stopped.

A voice cut through the silence, deeper than before.

A voice he knew.

"You can't win."

Kaelred froze.

That voice.

It wasn't the sentinel.

It wasn't Malakar.

It wasn't Argolaith.

It was his father.

The mist parted, and Kaelred saw him.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. The same steel-gray eyes that had always judged him.

His father stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, gaze sharp as a blade.

Kaelred's grip on his daggers tightened.

"This isn't real," he muttered.

The apparition smirked.

"Is it not?"

Kaelred's heart pounded in his chest. He knew it wasn't real. He knew this was just another test. Another illusion.

But that didn't stop the sinking feeling in his gut.

"You're wasting your time," his father said. His tone was calm. Cold. Dismissive. The same way he had always spoken to Kaelred. "You think you can control the power of the trees? You think you can make something of yourself?"

Kaelred's fingers twitched.

His father took another step forward.

"You are weak."

Kaelred exhaled through clenched teeth. "Shut up."

The words didn't faze the illusion.

"You have always been weak."

Kaelred's pulse thundered in his ears.

This was different from fighting a mirror of himself.

This wasn't a battle of strength.

This was a battle against doubt.

And he was losing.

The whispers started again.

Soft.

Insidious.

They crawled into his mind, pulling at old wounds. The failures. The mistakes. The times he had doubted himself. The nights he had spent staring at the ceiling, wondering if he would ever be enough.

The mist thickened.

His father's shape grew darker.

Looming.

A shadow given form.

"You will never be strong enough."

Kaelred's breath came in shallow gasps. His hands trembled.

The mist pressed in.

Suffocating.

He wanted to scream.

Wanted to fight.

Wanted to prove him wrong.

Then—

A different voice broke through.

"Kaelred."

Not a whisper.

Not an illusion.

A voice realer than anything else in the mist.

Argolaith.

Kaelred sucked in a sharp breath.

His father's shape flickered.

The mist wavered.

His heartbeat slowed.

Argolaith was out there.

Somewhere beyond the mist. Beyond this illusion.

Waiting.

Kaelred exhaled, slow and steady.

He knew who he was.

He knew why he was here.

And it wasn't to prove anything to this.

Kaelred lifted his head, meeting his father's gaze.

"I don't need to be strong enough for you."

The apparition stilled.

Kaelred took a step forward.

"I don't need your approval."

Another step.

"I don't need your voice in my head."

Another.

The illusion's form cracked.

Kaelred drove his dagger into its chest.

The mist shattered.

Kaelred stumbled forward, gasping for air.

The mist was gone.

The void was gone.

And the sentinel was waiting.

"You have passed the Trial of the Mind," it rumbled.

Kaelred's fists clenched. He could still feel the ghost of his father's words lingering in his chest.

But they were just that.

Ghosts.

Faded.

Powerless.

He lifted his chin, gaze steady.

"What's next?"

The sentinel's glowing eyes burned brighter.

"The Trial of the Spirit."

The sentinel's gaze burned through the lingering mist.

"You stand before the final trial."

Kaelred rolled his shoulders, his body still aching from the first two tests. He could feel the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him, but he forced himself to stay upright.

The Trial of the Body had tested his strength.

The Trial of the Mind had tested his will.

And now—

"What is the Trial of the Spirit?" Kaelred asked, his voice steady.

The sentinel lifted one massive clawed hand and pointed at the space behind him.

Kaelred turned—

And saw a door.

It stood alone in the mist, ancient and worn, its surface carved with symbols he didn't recognize.

Kaelred's fingers twitched toward his daggers, though he doubted they'd be useful now.

The sentinel's deep voice rumbled like distant thunder.

"You must walk through the door."

Kaelred exhaled. Of course.