Final Stage—The Silent Vigil
The wind howled like a wounded beast, its icy claws raking across the exposed battlements of the Northern Wall. Erin stood shivering, his breath crystallizing in the air as he stared into the endless void beyond. The wall stretched into the horizon, its ancient stones slick with frost, and the sky above churned with storm clouds that blotted out the stars. Below, the ground was a sea of shadows, broken only by the occasional flicker of distant torches.
Taro stepped forward, his lantern-and-spear emblem glinting faintly in the dim light. His voice carried the weight of authority. "You stand as the last line of defense. For four hours, you will guard this wall. Do not falter. Do not sleep. Do not fail."
Without another word, he flicked his wrist and disappeared into thin air.
Erin glanced at the other two contestants—the hulking blacksmith's apprentice and the sharp-eyed noble thief.
The blacksmith's hands glowed faintly, his magic conjuring a dull, misshapen dagger that flickered in and out of existence.
The thief's eyes gleamed with a faint silver light, her night vision barely holding as she squinted into the darkness. Erin had no magic, just his grit and the weight of his father's pendant against his chest.
The trial began in silence, broken only by the wind's mournful wail. Minutes stretched into hours, the cold seeping into Erin's bones until his fingers felt like brittle icicles. He shifted his weight, his boots crunching on the frost-covered stones, and forced himself to focus.
The blacksmith's apprentice muttered under his breath, his magic sputtering as he tried to summon another dagger. "Useless," he growled, his voice barely audible over the wind.
The noble thief paced restlessly, her enhanced eyes flickering as her night vision faded in and out. "Can't see a damn thing," she muttered, rubbing her temples.
Erin stayed rooted to his post, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He respected the thief's determination and the blacksmith's effort, but he knew this trial wasn't about magic. It was about endurance. Discipline.
Time crawled. The wind bit harder, and the blacksmith's magic flickered and died. He slumped against the parapet, his exhaustion evident. The thief's pacing slowed, her steps dragging as the cold sapped her energy. Erin clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms to keep himself awake.
Then, in the final ten minutes, a shadow moved far below.
It was faint—a flicker of movement in the darkness, barely visible even to the thief's fading night vision. A figure cloaked in black, its form shifting unnaturally, crept toward the base of the wall.
The blacksmith's apprentice stirred, his magic flaring as he conjured another dull dagger. "Is that…?"
"Stay at your post," Erin said firmly, his voice cutting through the wind.
The thief squinted, her eyes narrowing. "It's a demon. I'll take it down." She reached for a dagger at her belt, her movements sluggish but determined.
"No," Erin said, his tone calm but firm. "We light the signal flare. That's the protocol."
The blacksmith hesitated, his dagger flickering uncertainly. "But what if it gets away?"
"We don't engage," Erin replied, his breath puffing in the freezing air. "That's the rule."
The thief glared at him, her dagger still in hand. "Rules won't stop a demon."
Erin ignored her, his numb fingers fumbling for the signal torch. He struck the flint once, twice, before a spark caught and the flame roared to life. He thrust it into the brazier, the fire leaping high into the night sky, its golden light cutting through the darkness.
The shadow below froze, then vanished into the void.
The trial ended in silence. Moments later, Sage Akira appeared, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He surveyed the three contestants with a bored expression, his lantern-and-spear emblem glinting in the firelight.
"Go home," he said, his voice flat. "Wait for the letters."
Without another word, he turned and walked away, his footsteps crunching on the frost-covered stones until he disappeared into the shadows.
The three contestants stood in stunned silence, the weight of the trial settling over them. Finally, the blacksmith spoke, his voice rough but friendly. "Name's Garret. Blacksmith's apprentice, obviously."
The thief smirked, her silver eyes flickering as her night vision faded completely. "Lila Wulfrid. A Noble thief from the house of Wulfrid, if you couldn't tell."
Erin nodded, his tone respectful. "Erin. Just… Erin Vayne."
Garret chuckled, clapping Erin on the shoulder. "You held your ground out there. Not bad for someone with no magic."
Lila raised an eyebrow, her smirk softening. "You've got guts, I'll give you that."
Erin shrugged, his gaze drifting to the horizon. "We all did what we could. And why is nobody talking about how we are supposed to go home"
"By walking I guess" Garrett hissed.
The journey back to the North was long and silent, the frostbitten air biting at Erin's cheeks. The blacksmith, Garret, and the thief, Lila, walked alongside him for a while, their footsteps crunching in unison over the frozen dirt path. The three of them exchanged few words, the weight of the trial hanging heavy in the air.
"You think we passed?" Garret asked, his voice breaking the quiet. He rubbed his hands together, his breath puffing in the cold.
Lila shrugged, her silver eyes scanning the darkened road ahead. "Doesn't matter what I think. Sage said to wait for the letters. So we wait."
"Just turn it off" Garrett said jokingly, "just turn the eye thingy off, it's scary"
This doesn't seem to upset Lila, instead she burst into an uncontrollably laughter.
Erin stayed silent despite Lila's loud laughter, his mind replaying every moment of the trial—the freezing wind, the shadow below the wall, the signal fire blazing against the night. He wondered if he'd done enough. If his lack of magic would cost him everything.
At the crossroads, Garret clapped Erin on the shoulder. "Good luck, kid. You've got guts. Maybe we'll see each other again."
Lila gave Erin a nod, her smirk faint but genuine. "Don't freeze out here, Gravedigger."
They parted ways, Garret heading toward the South and Lila disappearing into the labyrinth of alleys that marked the border between the two regions. Erin walked alone, the landscape growing bleaker as he ventured deeper into the North. There were no streets here, no cities or towns—just clusters of shanties and huts scattered across the frozen earth, their windows shuttered against the cold.
When he reached his home, the door creaked open to reveal the dim glow of a single candle. Aria sat at the small wooden table, her schoolbooks spread out in front of her. She looked up, her face lighting up with relief as she saw him.
"Erin!" She rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight hug. "I was starting to worry. You're so late."
Erin hugged her back, the warmth of her presence melting some of the cold that had settled in his bones. "Sorry," he said, his voice soft. "The trials took longer than I thought."
Aria pulled back, her sharp eyes scanning his face. "You look exhausted. Did you eat anything?"
"Not yet," he admitted, though the thought of food made his stomach churn.
She frowned, her hands on her hips. "Sit down. I'll heat some broth."
Erin wanted to protest, to tell her to focus on her studies, but he was too tired to argue. He sank onto the edge of the cot, watching as Aria moved around the small room with practiced ease. She stirred the embers in the hearth, adding a few sticks of kindling until a small flame flickered to life.
"How was the trial?" she asked, her back to him as she poured broth into a pot.
Erin hesitated, his mind still replaying the shadow below the wall, the signal fire, the cold. "Hard," he said finally. "But I think… I did okay."
Aria glanced over her shoulder, her expression softening. "You always do okay. You're the strongest person I know."
Erin smiled faintly, though the weight of the unknown still pressed on his chest. "Thanks, Aria."
She brought him a steaming bowl of broth, sitting beside him as he ate. "I have school tomorrow," she said after a while, her voice tinged with guilt. "I should get some sleep."
Erin nodded, setting the empty bowl aside. "You should. I'll clean up."
Aria stood, stretching before giving him another quick hug. "Don't stay up too late," she said, her tone firm but gentle. "You need rest too."
"I will," he promised, though he knew sleep would be hard to come by.
Aria climbed into the cot, pulling the thin blanket over herself. Within minutes, her breathing evened out, the exhaustion of the day claiming her.
Erin sat by the hearth, staring into the dying flames. "Did I pass?" The question gnawed at him, relentless. He thought of Aria, of her future, of the life he wanted to give her. He thought of the Vigil, of the chance to be something more than a gravedigger.
The night stretched on, the silence broken only by the occasional howl of the wind. Erin lay awake on the floor, staring at the cracked ceiling, the weight of the unknown pressing down on him—Wait for the letters, Sage had said.
So he waited.