The Faultline of Gods

The Trial Towers were more than a landmark—they were a legacy. Standing at the edge of an ancient crater that scarred the heart of the continent, the towering spires were said to have existed since time immemorial, long before the schism that birthed Væstren Kall and Azhmarak. A phenomenon shrouded in mystery, the towers defied explanation, their structure woven from obsidian-like stone laced with veins of a shimmering crimson substance that pulsed as though alive.

Scholars from both factions had devoted centuries to unraveling the enigma. Theories ranged from divine construction to remnants of a forgotten civilization that had transcended mortality. Despite their efforts, the towers refused to yield their secrets. Their true purpose, origins, and the nature of their trials were known only to those brave—or desperate—enough to enter.

Eirian stood at the edge of the gathered crowd, the hum of anticipation thick in the air. Around him, participants exchanged nervous whispers, their expressions a mixture of excitement and dread. The Trial Towers were a rite of passage, their trials a test of strength, wit, and resolve. Success promised power and prestige, while failure could mean insanity, death, or worse—being lost within the timeless labyrinth.

"The glyphs are changing again," someone murmured nearby.

Eirian glanced at the surface of the nearest spire, where shifting glyphs and symbols danced like restless phantoms. They writhed and twisted, their patterns impossible to predict. No two challengers ever faced the same trial, the towers responding uniquely to each individual.

"Eirian." Jack's voice broke through the noise, pulling Eirian's attention away from the spires. His friend's usual casual demeanor was replaced by an uncharacteristic seriousness. "You're sure about this?"

"I don't have a choice," Eirian replied, his voice steady despite the weight of his decision. "It's mandatory for the exams, and skipping would raise too many questions."

Jack frowned. "You've heard the stories. People come out... different. Some don't come out at all."

Eirian nodded, the unspoken truth lingering between them. The Trial Towers were a crucible, their trials designed to push participants to their limits and beyond. Time flowed differently within the towers—an hour outside equaled a year inside. Those who emerged often returned with fractured memories, the price for the power they gained.

"Don't worry," Eirian said, forcing a faint smile. "I'll handle it."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the towers came alive. A low hum reverberated through the air, and the crimson veins glowed brighter, casting eerie shadows over the crowd. A figure in ceremonial robes stepped forward, their voice amplified by unseen magic.

"The Trial Towers are open. Step forward, challengers, and prove your worth."

One by one, participants approached the base of the spires, their expressions varying from grim determination to outright terror. Eirian hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on the swirling entrance of liquid light that marked the gateway to the trials.

"This isn't just about the exams, is it?" Jack asked quietly.

Eirian met his friend's gaze, the flicker of determination in his eyes speaking volumes. "No. It's not."

Without another word, he stepped forward, merging with the flow of challengers.

The moment Eirian crossed the threshold, the world dissolved into darkness. A suffocating silence enveloped him, pressing against his skin like a physical weight. Then, with a sudden shift, he found himself standing in a vast expanse of cracked earth beneath a sky of swirling black and crimson. The air was heavy, thick with the scent of ash and ozone.

A voice echoed in his mind, cold and unfeeling. "Welcome, challenger. Your trial begins now."

The ground beneath his feet trembled, and shadows began to gather in the distance, their forms humanoid yet grotesquely distorted. They moved with unnatural jerks and spasms, their features obscured by shifting veils of darkness.

"These must be the manifestations of the trial," Eirian thought, his instincts kicking in as he dropped into a defensive stance.

The shadows advanced, their movements eerily synchronized. Eirian summoned a flicker of energy to his palm, the pale light pushing back the encroaching darkness. He hurled the energy forward, striking the nearest figure. It dissolved into smoke, but the others pressed on, their ranks seemingly endless.

The trial wasn't just a test of strength. The shadows adapted, their attacks growing more coordinated and relentless. Each strike forced Eirian to dig deeper into his reserves, the physical toll compounding the mental strain.

"Is this all you've got?" he muttered, more to himself than the shadows. But even as he fought, doubt crept into his mind. The trial wasn't designed to be won through brute force. It was a test of resilience, strategy, and resolve.

As the shadows closed in, Eirian closed his eyes and focused, his thoughts racing. He couldn't defeat them all, but perhaps he didn't need to. The trial was about survival, not slaughter.

Time became meaningless within the trial. Hours, days, perhaps even years seemed to pass as Eirian endured wave after wave of shadows. Occasionally, the landscape shifted, transforming into places from his memories—his school, his childhood home, even the hospital where his parents had died.

Each shift brought new challenges. The shadows took on familiar faces, their voices taunting him with half-remembered truths and lies. His mother. Jack. Even his own reflection. The emotional strain was worse than the physical, each illusion threatening to break his resolve.

But Eirian held firm, his will unyielding. He reminded himself of why he was there—not just to pass the trial, but to uncover the truth about his past and the gods who had wronged his family.

When the voice returned, it was colder than before. "You have proven resilience, but the true test lies ahead. Will you continue, or will you surrender?"

Eirian wiped the sweat from his brow, his body screaming in protest. Despite his exhaustion, his resolve burned brighter than ever. "I'm not done yet."

The ground trembled, and a massive structure rose from the earth before him. It mirrored the Trial Towers themselves, its obsidian walls pulsing with crimson light. A doorway appeared at its base, glowing with an otherworldly energy.

"Enter and face the heart of your trial."

Eirian hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward. Whatever awaited him inside, he would face it head-on.