The dawn broke cold and pale, casting long shadows over the Ashenblade estate as Damien stood at the edge of the courtyard. His gear was minimal—a sturdy cloak, basic provisions, and a plain iron sword strapped to his side. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had. The weight of the task ahead pressed heavily on his shoulders, yet beneath the tension, a strange calm settled over him.

He had waited eighteen years for this moment.

“You don’t have to do this,” his mother, Lady Elira, said, her voice gentle yet firm. She stood a few steps behind him, her hands clasped tightly. “The curse… we’ve learned to live with it. So can you.”

Damien turned to face her. Her eyes were filled with a quiet desperation, but also love—a love that had shielded him for as long as he could remember. “I’ve lived with it,” he said softly. “But I’ve never lived because of it.”

Before she could respond, his father’s voice echoed across the courtyard. “Damien.”

Lord Alaric approached, his presence commanding as always. He stopped a few paces away, his stern gaze locking onto Damien’s. “It’s time.”

Damien nodded, turning fully to meet his father’s eyes. He expected the usual cold detachment, but there was something different this time—something almost like pride, though it was buried deep.

“Remember,” Alaric said, his tone low. “This trial is not just a test of strength. It will challenge your resolve, your will to survive. If you falter, if you hesitate, it will consume you.”

Damien squared his shoulders. “I won’t fail.”

A flicker of approval crossed Alaric’s face. “Good.” He stepped aside, gesturing toward the estate’s outer gate. “Your path lies beyond.”

Selene and Kael were there too, waiting silently. Selene’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, though she managed a small smile as Damien passed her. “You’re braver than all of us,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “Just… come back.”

Kael, ever the stoic warrior, gave Damien a sharp nod. “Don’t die,” he said simply. “We’ll be waiting.”

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Damien offered a faint smile, then turned toward the gate. Without another word, he stepped forward, leaving the estate and his family behind.

---

The journey stretched before him like an open wound, vast and unforgiving. The air grew colder with each step, the terrain shifting from familiar fields to untamed wilderness. The sun climbed higher, but its warmth did little to ease the growing tension in Damien’s chest.

Every so often, he would stop and check his surroundings. His father’s warning echoed in his mind: *Hesitation is death.* He knew this was no ordinary journey. Whatever lay ahead would test him in ways he could barely imagine.

By midday, Damien reached a dense forest, its towering trees blotting out the sky. The path became more treacherous, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and decay. He pressed on, his every sense on high alert.

It wasn’t long before the first signs of danger appeared.

The forest grew unnaturally quiet, the usual sounds of wildlife giving way to an eerie stillness. Shadows seemed to shift at the edge of his vision, and the faintest hint of movement set his nerves on edge. He gripped the hilt of his sword, his pulse quickening.

Then, without warning, something lunged at him from the underbrush.

Damien barely had time to react. He stumbled back, drawing his sword as a creature emerged—a hulking beast of sinew and shadow, its eyes burning with malevolent light. It snarled, its jagged claws gleaming in the dim light.

The beast struck first, its claws slicing through the air where Damien had stood moments before. He ducked and swung his sword, but the iron blade barely nicked its hide. The creature roared in response, its massive form bearing down on him.

Damien’s breath came in sharp gasps as he dodged and weaved, each movement fueled by instinct. The beast was relentless, its attacks faster and more powerful than anything he had faced in training. He knew he couldn’t last long like this.

I need to end this. Now.

Summoning every ounce of focus, Damien feinted left, then lunged forward, driving his blade into the creature’s side. It howled in pain, staggering back, but the wound was shallow. The beast recovered quickly, its fury redoubled.

Damien braced himself for the next attack, but suddenly, a strange sensation washed over him. A pulse of energy, faint but unmistakable, seemed to call from deep within the forest. His gaze flicked to the shadows beyond the beast, where a faint, otherworldly glow shimmered.

The creature hesitated, sensing it too.

Taking advantage of the moment, Damien surged forward, delivering a final slash that drove the beast back into the trees. It snarled, its form dissolving into mist as it retreated.

Damien didn’t wait to see if it would return. He turned and ran toward the source of the glow, his heart pounding.

---

The forest opened into a small clearing, at the center of which stood an ancient stone altar. Upon it rested a sword unlike any Damien had ever seen. Its blade was dark and gleaming, etched with intricate runes that pulsed faintly with light. The hilt was wrapped in silver, its design elegant yet fierce.

Damien approached cautiously, his eyes fixed on the weapon. As he drew closer, the air seemed to hum with energy, a low thrum that resonated deep in his chest.

He reached out, his hand trembling as it closed around the hilt. The moment his fingers touched the blade, a surge of power coursed through him, searing away the cold and filling him with warmth and strength. The runes flared to life, illuminating the clearing in a brilliant glow.

Damien gasped, his vision momentarily blurring as the energy overwhelmed him. When it cleared, he felt… different. Stronger. The weight of the curse, ever-present since birth, seemed to lift, replaced by a burgeoning power he could barely comprehend.

The sword pulsed in his hand, as if acknowledging its new master.

For the first time in his life, Damien felt truly alive.

“This is it,” he murmured, his grip tightening on the hilt. “This is my chance.”

With renewed determination, he turned back toward the forest, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

The journey had only just begun.