Forge of Fate

Kalem had barely recovered from the first trial when Vornar summoned him again. This time, the forge master was waiting outside the smithy, leaning against a stout iron staff. Behind him stood Tharic, grinning as though he already knew something Kalem didn't.

"Rest is for those who've earned it," Vornar said without preamble. "Your second trial is to find Glimmerfang Ore. You'll need it if you're serious about forging weapons worthy of the Mountain."

Kalem frowned. "What's so special about it?"

"Glimmerfang doesn't just make weapons sharp," Tharic chimed in, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "It makes them alive. The blade will sing in the air, cut smoother than silk, and last a lifetime. But it doesn't come easy."

Kalem's stomach tightened. He knew there was a catch. "Where do I find it?"

Vornar's lips curled into something between a smirk and a grimace. "The Crags of Emberhowl. It's not just the ore that's sharp—everything there is. The creatures, the terrain, and the air itself. Bring me enough to forge a weapon. And survive."

The Crags of Emberhowl lay deep in the shadow of the Mountain of Burning Ashes. Kalem set out at dawn, his pack filled with provisions, a sturdy pickaxe slung over his back, and his newly forged Ashsteel blade strapped to his side. The journey was arduous, the terrain becoming more treacherous with every step.

The air grew hotter as he ascended the jagged paths, volcanic fumes hissing from cracks in the ground. The rocky outcrops were razor-sharp, forcing Kalem to tread carefully. It wasn't long before he understood why the area was so feared. The environment itself felt hostile, as though it resented his presence.

But the real danger came at dusk.

Kalem was searching for traces of Glimmerfang Ore when he heard the first growl. It was low and guttural, echoing off the rocky walls. He froze, gripping the hilt of his blade. The growl was followed by the sound of claws scraping against stone.

From the shadows emerged a Spinebeast, a creature he had only heard about in whispered tales. Its body was lean and wiry, covered in jagged black scales that seemed to absorb the light. Its eyes glowed a malevolent red, and its elongated snout was filled with serrated teeth.

Kalem barely had time to react as the creature lunged. He rolled to the side, the beast's claws tearing through the air where he had been. Drawing his Ashsteel blade, Kalem stood his ground. He couldn't afford to panic.

The Spinebeast circled him, its movements unnervingly fluid. Kalem studied it, noting how its claws clicked against the stone and how its tail lashed like a whip. It was testing him, waiting for a mistake.

It didn't have to wait long.

The beast struck with blinding speed, its claws slashing toward Kalem's chest. He raised his blade just in time, the clash sending vibrations up his arms. The force of the impact drove him back, his boots skidding on the rocky ground.

Kalem countered with a swing of his blade, aiming for the creature's exposed flank. The Ashsteel bit into its scales but didn't go deep enough to cause real damage. The Spinebeast snarled and retaliated with a swipe of its tail, sending Kalem sprawling.

Pain flared in his side as he hit the ground, but he forced himself to roll away before the beast could pounce. He scrambled to his feet, his mind racing. The Spinebeast was faster and stronger, but it wasn't invincible. Its movements were deliberate, almost predictable if he paid close enough attention.

Kalem tightened his grip on the blade and waited. The Spinebeast lunged again, and this time, he sidestepped the attack, using the beast's momentum against it. He brought his blade down in a clean arc, severing part of its tail.

The creature roared in pain, thrashing wildly. Kalem pressed the advantage, striking at its legs and forcing it to retreat. Finally, with a decisive thrust, he drove the Ashsteel blade through the creature's chest. The Spinebeast let out one last guttural snarl before collapsing in a heap.

Kalem didn't have time to celebrate. The Spinebeast's death had stirred something in the Crags. A low rumble echoed through the ground, and he realized the terrain itself seemed to shift, revealing veins of shimmering ore embedded in the stone.

Glimmerfang.

He approached cautiously, his pickaxe in hand. The ore pulsed faintly, its surface catching the dim light in mesmerizing patterns. Kalem struck the rock carefully, chipping away at the deposit. Each swing of the pickaxe sent sparks flying, and the ore gave off a faint, metallic hum.

It took hours to extract enough, and by the time he was done, his arms ached, and his body was coated in sweat and grime. He wrapped the ore fragments carefully, knowing their value was beyond measure. But as he prepared to leave, a new sound reached his ears.

More growls. Dozens of them.

Kalem turned to see a pack of Spinebeasts emerging from the shadows, their eyes glowing like embers. He cursed under his breath, gripping his blade tightly. He couldn't fight them all—not in his current state.

Using the jagged terrain to his advantage, Kalem began a desperate climb. The Spinebeasts pursued him relentlessly, their claws scraping against the rocks as they closed the distance. Kalem's heart pounded in his chest, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Reaching a narrow ledge, he turned and hurled a piece of volatile ore at the pack. The impact triggered a small explosion, sending shards of rock flying and scattering the beasts. It bought him precious seconds to keep climbing, but the creatures were relentless.

By the time he reached the edge of the Crags, the pack had thinned, but a few still pursued him. Kalem turned to face them, his blade ready. He fought with everything he had, his strikes precise and his movements fueled by desperation. When the last Spinebeast fell, he collapsed to his knees, his body trembling with exhaustion.

When Kalem returned to the forge, battered and bruised, Vornar and Tharic were waiting. He tossed the Glimmerfang Ore onto the worktable, his expression weary but triumphant.

"You're alive," Tharic said, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't think you'd make it."

Kalem smirked despite his exhaustion. "Neither did I."

Vornar inspected the ore, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded. "Not bad, miner. But the forge doesn't care about bravery. Let's see if you can make something of this."

The trial was over, but Kalem knew the real work had just begun.