Kael didn't reach the summit.
Not in time, at least.
By the time his scraped fingers grabbed the final rope and his trembling arms hauled his body over the Ironspine ledge, the sun had already passed its zenith. The final horn had blown minutes before. He was too late.
He collapsed on the stony plateau, gasping for air, blood seeping from his palms. Around him, six other boys and girls rested in various states of exhaustion. Only six.
The trial had begun with nearly thirty.
Kael didn't even have the strength to be ashamed. He had given everything.
Master Yuren stood at the far edge of the summit, speaking in low tones with a man Kael had never seen before—broad-bodied, richly dressed, a short silver beard glinting in the sunlight. Several disciples in teal stood behind them, including the sharp-eyed Protector Wynne.
Kael recognized one of the boys among the six—Darian Vale, of course, standing tall and smug, as though his robe were woven from victory itself. He had reached the summit hours ago.
Kael closed his eyes. He expected to be dismissed. Sent back down the mountain. Maybe given a few coins for effort.
But then he heard footsteps approaching.
"Kael," said Protector Wynne, tone unreadable. "Stand."
Kael forced himself upright, swaying slightly.
Master Yuren turned to address the group.
"Of the candidates, six have passed the trial by reaching the summit before midday. These six will be accepted into Ironroot Hall as formal inner disciples."
He paused, then looked directly at Kael.
"One additional candidate, though late, has shown rare persistence. Alongside another, he will receive temporary probation. Their fate will depend on further evaluation."
Kael blinked in disbelief. He wasn't being sent away?
"Kael and Bren," Yuren continued, gesturing to another boy nearby—a stocky, quiet-faced youth Kael vaguely recognized from the caravan. "You will not return home. Not yet."
Bren gave Kael a hesitant nod. Kael nodded back.
At Yuren's signal, two senior disciples stepped forward to escort them. But before they could lead Kael and Bren away, the richly dressed man raised a hand.
"Hold a moment," he said. His voice was smooth, but heavy with authority.
Yuren raised an eyebrow.
"Master Elric?"
The man smiled.
"I'll take these two."
Even Protector Wynne seemed surprised.
"You wish to recruit them into Verdant Hollow?"
"Indeed," Elric said, already turning. "I need hands. And fresh minds."
Kael barely had time to register what was happening before he was following the man down a separate path—one that veered away from the main compound, into a shrouded valley filled with low mist and the scent of moss and herbs.
They walked in silence for nearly half an hour, past terraces of strange plants and still ponds. Eventually, they reached a small wooden gate carved into the base of a cliff.
"This is Verdant Hollow," Elric said, not looking back. "Where you begin again."
Kael and Bren stepped inside. A dozen stone cottages nestled among trees. Small greenhouses shimmered with dew. A creek ran through the center, its waters humming softly.
Elric gestured to a pair of cottages.
"Yours. Get clean. Rest. You'll begin tomorrow."
He walked off without another word, disappearing into a house built beneath a massive willow tree.
Kael stood in the quiet, heart still pounding.
He hadn't passed the trial.
But he hadn't failed either.
Something stranger had happened.
And somehow, it felt like the real journey had just begun.