The battle at Varyndor Keep had ended, but the echoes of war still lingered in the air. The scent of scorched stone and spilled blood clung to the ruins, mixing with the crisp night breeze that swept through the shattered stronghold.
Raine sat on the cracked battlements, his fingers idly tracing the lightning burns that still lingered on his forearm. His power had changed. He could feel it. The storm within him was no longer wild, no longer an untamed force that lashed out at random. It was his now.
And yet, even with the surge of strength flowing through him, he couldn't shake the memory of Varian's gaze.
"You are not yet ready."
The Warden of the Rift had spoken those words not as a threat, but as a fact.
Varian could have killed him—killed all of them—but he hadn't. Instead, he had withdrawn, his forces slipping back into the darkness.
But Raine knew the truth.
This wasn't over.
This was only the beginning.
Aftermath of the Battle
Sylara sat a few feet away, her blade resting across her knees. She was sharpening it with slow, methodical movements, the rhythmic sound of steel against whetstone breaking the silence.
"You keep brooding like that, and I'm going to start worrying," she said without looking up.
Raine exhaled, running a hand through his sweat-matted hair. "Just thinking."
Sylara glanced at him, her emerald eyes studying him. "About what?"
He hesitated before answering. "Why did Varian leave?"
Sylara's hands stilled. "Because he wasn't here to destroy us. Not yet."
That answer sent a chill down Raine's spine. "You think he was testing us?"
She nodded. "Yes. And now he knows our limits."
Raine clenched his fists. Not yet ready.
Sylara must have sensed his frustration because she set her blade aside and leaned back against the crumbling wall. "You're stronger than you were before, Raine. I saw it in the fight."
Raine sighed. "Not strong enough."
Sylara smirked slightly. "Then we fix that."
A Plan to Grow Stronger
Seraphis approached, her silver eyes unreadable as she stepped over the rubble. Despite the exhaustion that weighed on them, she remained composed, untouched by the battle's toll.
"We don't have the luxury of time," she said without preamble. "Varian may have left, but he will return. And next time, he will not walk away."
Raine exhaled sharply. "So what do we do?"
Seraphis motioned to the sky, where the stars flickered like distant embers. "We leave Varyndor Keep. We must travel east—to the Titan's Gate."
Sylara stiffened. "You want to cross the divide?"
Seraphis nodded. "It is the only path forward. The trials you have faced so far were merely the first steps. The Titan's Gate holds the knowledge and power you will need to stand against the forces to come."
Raine raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly is the Titan's Gate?"
Seraphis's expression darkened. "A ruin older than the Rift itself. A place where gods once walked."
Raine's breath hitched. He had thought Varyndor Keep was old, but this?
Sylara didn't look convinced. "You're suggesting we seek the power of a place that's been sealed off for centuries? A place no one has crossed and lived to tell the tale?"
Seraphis didn't blink. "Yes."
A heavy silence stretched between them.
Then Raine stood up, rolling his shoulders. "Alright. Let's do it."
Sylara gave him a look. "You're too eager for someone who almost got turned into a smear on the ground by Varian."
Raine smirked. "I don't plan on staying weak."
She studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Fine. But if you die, I'm bringing you back just to kill you myself."
Seraphis smiled faintly. "Then we leave at dawn."
The Journey to Titan's Gate
The road east was unlike anything Raine had ever seen.
The land changed as they traveled.
At first, the terrain remained familiar—rolling hills, patches of dense forest, the occasional ruin swallowed by time. But as they moved closer to the divide, the world became twisted.
The trees grew too tall, their trunks impossibly wide. The grass shimmered faintly, reflecting light in ways that shouldn't have been possible. The air carried a strange weight, as if reality itself were bending under unseen forces.
And then, they saw it.
Titan's Gate.
It was massive.
Two colossal stone pillars stretched into the heavens, so tall their peaks were lost among the clouds. Between them, an ancient archway stood, carved with symbols so old they felt more like whispers in the wind than language.
But the most unsettling thing was the Rift beyond the gate.
A tear in the sky, swirling with colors Raine couldn't describe, flickering between gold and shadow.
A doorway between worlds.
Seraphis halted, her gaze locked onto the massive structure. "We are here."
Sylara frowned. "And now what?"
Seraphis raised her staff, the air around them trembling. "Now… we open the gate."
The Awakening
The runes on the Titan's Gate flared to life.
Golden energy surged through the ancient carvings, pulsing like a heartbeat. The air crackled, and the ground beneath their feet shook.
Then, from the Rift—something stepped through.
Raine's breath caught in his throat.
It wasn't human.
It wasn't elven.
It was something else entirely.
A figure shrouded in mist, its form constantly shifting as if it couldn't decide what shape it wanted to be. Its eyes burned like dying stars, and when it spoke, its voice echoed from every direction at once.
"Who dares disturb the Gate?"
Seraphis did not waver.
"We seek the path beyond. We seek strength."
The entity's gaze settled on Raine, its eyes narrowing.
"You… you are not meant to be here."
A cold dread settled in Raine's chest.
"Yeah, I get that a lot," he muttered.
The entity lifted its hand, and the world cracked.
The sky fractured, shifting between realities. The ground beneath them rippled like water.
"Prove your worth."
And just like that—
The Trial of the Gate began.