Later that evening a father and daughter whispered to one another in the room for the wounded.

  Marcella wiped a tear from her face and asked, "What's happening? Will they make it?"

  Lord Moon paced at the foot of the beds, his voice calm but firm. "Yes, my dear, I’m sure they will. Right now, they’re likely going through one of the biggest moments of their lives."

  "What can I do?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

  Lord Moon offered a gentle smile. "The best thing you can do is let them rest."

  Marcella glanced at Elron, lying unconscious before her, then sighed. "Hmm, let's go see Mother for a bit."

  The two left, allowing the four adventurers to rest, though their minds were far from at peace.

  Racial change to a Half-High Elf.

  Ascension has commenced.

  Elron found himself standing before a dark temple nestled in the heart of a jungle. Dusk approached, and the only light was the flickering torches that lined the stone staircase leading to the top of a massive pyramid. Much like the trial he faced long ago, he felt compelled to move forward, as if something was pushing him onward.

  With determination, he placed one foot in front of the other and began ascending the steps. As he passed each torch, they snuffed out behind him, leaving a trail of darkness in his wake. Crows circled overhead, cawing as he neared the summit. When he reached the top, the jungle had vanished, replaced by a void that swallowed everything beyond the pyramid.

  "Hello, Elron," came a familiar voice. It was Balmer, resting on a pedestal before him.

  Elron picked up the sword, strapping it to his waist. "Of course you’re here. I figured you would join me in this."

  "We are bound," Balmer replied.

  Elron’s gaze shifted to the staircase leading down into the pyramid. "What do you think awaits us?"

  Balmer chuckled darkly. "Only Tahar knows."

  Elron smirked, pretending to recognize the name. He began his descent down the spiral staircase. It wasn’t long before the stairs ended, leading him into a long hallway with a swirling panel of purple miasma blocking the way forward. Elron stopped in front of it, scanning for a way around, but found none.

  "Now what?" he muttered. "I’m not walking through that."

  "It’s part of the trial," Balmer said. "I believe you must."

  Elron huffed, straightening his posture. "Alright then." Without hesitation, he walked through the transparent goo.

  Instantly, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground. "Ugh... I feel so weak... What’s happening?"

  Balmer groaned. "It’s all part of the trial."

  Elron struggled to his feet. "I can’t fight like this. I’ll die."

  "Then you’ll repeat the trial until you figure it out," Balmer responded bluntly.

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  The thought of dying over and over made Elron gulp. He forced himself to move down the hallway, his body aching with every step. Turning a corner, he found a room with a single skeleton, which charged at him the moment it saw him. Elron panicked but managed to draw his sword just as the skeleton tackled him to the ground.

  The weight of the curse and the crushing force of the skeleton bore down on him. He grabbed the skeleton by the neck, doing everything he could to stop it from biting him. It lunged, snapping at his face. With no other option, he thrust his forearm into its mouth, gritting his teeth as blood trickled down his arm. He used the pain to fuel his strength, lifting his sword and driving it through the skeleton’s skull.

  Elron rolled onto his back, breathing heavily. "Why didn’t you help me?!"

  "I am merely a sword in this domain," Balmer replied coldly.

  Elron groaned, forcing himself to his feet. "This is going to be tough."

  Several floors down, Elron had finished clearing a room, his body racked with fatigue. He realized that while his physical abilities were severely hampered, his magic remained as strong as ever. Room after room, he blasted the undead with fire and thunder. When enemies surrounded him, he mana-stepped away or conjured self-images, buying enough time to cast more spells.

  But as he entered the next room, there were no enemies. His head throbbed from the strain of casting too much magic, and his body ached with exhaustion.

  The room was different—more ornate, like a king’s reception hall. A long red carpet stretched before him, flanked by towering pillars. At the far end, a beautiful woman was trapped inside a cage, clutching the bars and crying out. She pointed desperately toward two pedestals, each holding an open book.

  Elron approached the books. The first, a dark purple tome with white-on-black text, read, dispel curse. The other, an all-white book with green text, read, dispel lock.

  His heart raced. The sound of clicking and grinding gears filled the room. Two massive hourglasses embedded in the walls began to trickle sand as the top of the cage slowly descended towards the woman.

  "Damn it... I have to decide," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

  The woman wailed, pointing frantically at the green book. Elron paced, looking between the books and the hourglasses. There was no time to do both—he could only cast one spell.

  With a tear forming in his eye, he stood before the purple book. "I’m sorry."

  He began to chant the spell, avoiding the woman’s desperate gaze. As he chanted, he watched from the corner of his eye as the top of the cage pressed down on her. She screamed, trying in vain to push against the descending wall. Her cries became blood-curdling as the cage crushed her, her skull cracking with a sickening pop.

  Elron felt the curse lift from his body, but the machine finished its work, and the room was painted in red. Blood and matter splattered across his face and filled the air with a foul stench.

  "Do you think she was real?" Elron asked quietly.

  "Hard to say," Balmer replied.

  Elron stared at the woman’s remains, his heart heavy. A door rumbled open, signaling the next stage of the trial. Without another glance at the cage, Elron jogged into the darkness.

  The darkness didn’t last long though, as he found himself in a maze of mirrors. He proceeded with caution, his flaming sword drawn, but no enemies came. Minutes passed as he wandered, and still, nothing attacked him. Eventually, he stopped and gazed at his reflection.

  He frowned and spat at the mirror.

  He trailed on a bit longer, and to his surprise the maze didn’t end up to being a maze at all. It was baffling. He asked himself, ‘what was the point of that?’

  "This seems to be the end," Balmer said as they entered a chamber devoid of mirrors.

  Before him stood a throne room, with a grand seat on a raised platform. Two chalices sat on the throne’s arms, one containing a dark, menacing flame, the other a bright white flare.

  Elron approached the chalice with the soft flame. It reminded him of his mother, and so he reached for it.

  "I think not," Balmer interjected, preventing Elron from grasping the chalice.

  "What is this?!" Elron strained to move his fingers.

  "Your choices are not always yours to make now," Balmer replied.

  Elron tried to move but found himself paralyzed. "Damn you!"

  The dark flame from the other chalice snaked through the air, entering his mouth and nostrils. His body froze as the substance filled him, and soon, the chalice was emptied. Elron then collapsed at the base of the throne.

  New Class Unlocked: Hexblade.