The shimmering water of the fountain reflected the pale morning light, casting gentle ripples on the crumbling blue stones of the temple. Reya stood silently, the Sword of Tides resting in her hand. Its weight was unfamiliar, yet it felt natural, as if it had been waiting for her.

The quiet reverence of the moment was broken by the sound of footsteps. Turning, the group saw the old man walking toward them from the shadows of the temple. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his face was stern, lined with barely contained anger.

“Congratulations,” he said, his voice cold. “I suppose now that you’ve completed the trial, your act of betrayal is forgiven?”

Reya stiffened, her grip tightening on the sword. “Betrayal? What are you talking about?”

The old man’s eyes narrowed, and he jabbed a finger toward her. “Don’t feign ignorance, girl. Your mother was a traitor to this settlement! She may as well have killed Almira with her own hands!”

The accusation hung in the air like a thundercloud, and the others exchanged uneasy glances.

“My mother?” Reya asked, her voice trembling. “You must be mistaken. She wasn’t even alive during the time of Almira.”

The old man’s expression twisted into one of disdain. “Mistaken? Hardly. The bloodline doesn’t forget, nor does it forgive.” He gestured toward the sword. “That blade should never have been placed in your hands. It belongs to those loyal to Kali’dar, not to the descendants of those who destroyed it!”

Amaya stepped forward, her brow furrowed. “Enough of this cryptic nonsense. If you have something to say, say it plainly.”

The old man’s gaze shifted to her, his lips curling into a grim smile. “You think this is nonsense? This temple stands as a monument to betrayal. Your friend’s bloodline is tainted with the sin of treachery, and that sin still echoes in her.”

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Reya’s chest tightened, her thoughts spinning. “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice breaking. “What did my family do?”

The man’s expression softened slightly, though his tone remained harsh. “You claim ignorance, but the blood remembers. Your ancestor—your mother’s mother—stood beside Corva in her darkest hour. It was her guidance, her whispers, that led Corva to the path of ruin.”

“Ruin?” Lina asked cautiously.

“Yes,” the old man spat. “It was she who convinced Corva to take the Glaive of the Tides and bend it to her will. It was her influence that drove Corva to unleash the torrents that drowned not just crops and homes, but hope itself. Almira trusted them both, and she paid the price for that trust with her life.”

Reya’s hands trembled. “You’re saying… my ancestor betrayed Almira?”

“She betrayed Kali’dar!” the man roared. “She betrayed all of us!”

For a moment, the temple was silent, save for the faint trickle of the fountain. Reya felt as though the weight of the sword had doubled, its blade now a burden rather than a gift.

Kai placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Reya, this doesn’t define you.”

The old man scoffed. “Doesn’t it? Blood speaks louder than words. She carries the same potential for destruction as her ancestor. The sword’s acceptance of her doesn’t absolve her—it warns us.”

Reya met his gaze, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. “I didn’t ask for this. Whatever my ancestors did, I’m not them. I came here to help, to protect. If the sword chose me, then it must believe I’m capable of something better.”

The old man studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Perhaps. Or perhaps the blade has no other choice.”

He turned away, his voice fading as he retreated into the shadows. “The trials test not just the bearer, but the weapon’s patience. Time will tell if you are worthy… or if you will follow the path of your blood.”

As he disappeared, the group gathered around Reya. Amaya placed a hand on her back. “Don’t listen to him. You’ve proven yourself, Reya. The sword wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise.”

Lina nodded. “Your actions speak louder than any past. And we’re here for you, no matter what.”

Reya gave them a grateful smile, though doubt lingered in her heart. She looked at the Sword of Tides, its silver blade shimmering with an inner light. Was the old man right? Did the blood of betrayal run in her veins?

Or could she rewrite the story of her ancestors and forge a path of redemption?

As the rain continued to fall, the group turned their gaze to the next horizon, the echoes of the old man’s words following them like shadows.