Forged By Falcrest

Atlas heard hurried steps behind him, and when he turned, he saw Seth's familiar grin. The boy's easy demeanor was a welcome break from the somber atmosphere of the group.

"What do you think Torren has planned for us this time?" Seth asked, his voice light but tinged with curiosity.

Atlas shrugged. "Something that'll make us regret waking up, probably."

Seth laughed, falling into step beside him. "That's fair."

Seth was one of the few students who really talked to Atlas, and while Atlas wasn't the type to show it, he appreciated it more than he cared to admit. Most of the others either ignored him or avoided him entirely, but Seth didn't seem to care about the unspoken divide between Atlas and the rest of the class.

As they followed Torren up the winding path, Seth motioned to the blade strapped to Atlas's back. "I still can't believe you spent all your points on that," he said, his tone half teasing.

Atlas stiffened slightly, feeling the need to defend himself. "Not all my points… just most."

They both cracked small, knowing smiles, the kind that came from shared struggles and quiet understanding.

The introduction of points had been one of the most significant changes in their training. At the end of each week, students were evaluated and awarded points based on their performance. The points could be used to buy equipment, extra food, or, most importantly, spells. It was a system designed to reward effort and encourage competition, and it quickly became a central part of their lives.

For someone like Atlas, who had come to the academy with nothing, the points were a lifeline. Most of the Uppertown students, like Seth, already had access to spells through their families or clans. They didn't need to rely on points the same way he did. But for Atlas, every point mattered. It was his only way to keep up, to bridge the gap between him and the others.

"I still think you should've waited," Seth said, glancing at the sword again. "Could've saved up for something better."

Atlas shook his head. "It's not just a sword, Seth. It's balance. Precision. Everything else can wait."

Seth smirked. "Spoken like a true idiot."

Atlas's lips twitched into a faint grin, but his thoughts were already elsewhere. His sword had cost him dearly, but he didn't regret it. He needed a weapon he could rely on, something that would become an extension of himself.

"And the spell?" Seth asked, his curiosity genuine. "You managed to get it working yet?"

Atlas sighed. "Not yet. It's harder than I thought."

The spell he'd bought, Wind Blade, was a D-rank spell designed to enhance his swordsmanship. When executed correctly, it would send a sharp blade of wind slicing through the air with a single swipe of his sword. It was simple in concept but difficult in practice, especially for someone like Atlas, whose core was still unrefined and struggled to read.

Spells were expensive, and even the D-rank ones like Wind Blade cost more points than Atlas could easily spare. Higher-ranked spells were completely out of reach, both in terms of points and the strain they would put on his core. Torren had warned them all about overloading their cores, the consequences of which were severe and potentially irreversible. Atlas wasn't willing to take that risk.

"You'll get it," Seth said, his tone reassuring. "Takes time, that's all."

Atlas nodded, appreciating the encouragement even if he didn't say it out loud. The spell was frustrating, but he wasn't giving up.

The group continued their ascent, the sound of boots crunching in the snow filling the silence. The cold wind whipped through the narrow mountain pass, stinging Atlas's face, he pulled the scarf up slightly.

They continued their ascent until the sun hung high in the sky, its light glinting off the snow-covered peaks. The city of Falcrest was now just a faint memory, swallowed by the mountain's jagged terrain and the endless white expanse that surrounded them. Atlas's breath came in heavy bursts, his chest heaving as he leaned on his knees for support. Despite all the training he'd endured over the past three months, the steep, unrelenting climb had pushed him to his limits—and, by the looks of it, most of his classmates as well.

Torren, on the other hand, looked completely unaffected. Standing tall and steady, he showed no signs of exertion, his sharp eyes scanning the group with the same calm intensity he always carried. He didn't even seem winded, speaking as though he hadn't just led them on a half-day march uphill.

"This is where you'll start," Torren announced, gesturing to the flat patch of rocky terrain they had stopped on. "In groups of three, you'll climb the rest of the mountain. At the summit, another Nightblade will be waiting with further instructions. This isn't a race, but you are expected to work together and complete the task as efficiently as possible."

Atlas straightened, his pulse still pounding in his ears, and adjusted the strap of his sword on his back. His eyes darted toward the others, many of whom were still catching their breath. The idea of climbing even higher wasn't exactly appealing, but he wasn't about to back down now.

"When I call your name, form up with your group," Torren continued, pulling out a small piece of parchment. He began listing off names, his voice cutting through the still mountain air.

"Rea, Seth, Aaron."

Atlas felt a pang of jealousy as Seth said goodbye and joined Rea and Aaron. Seth was the only one who really talked to him, and now he wasn't even going to have that small comfort. He shook the feeling off quickly. It wasn't worth dwelling on. Instead, he focused on the next names, waiting for his own to be called. Eventually he was called out.

"Atlas, Marcus, Kara."

Atlas blinked, glancing toward the two as they stepped forward. He wasn't mad about the pairing—if anything, he felt a bit relieved. Marcus was easily the strongest in their class, his broad shoulders and composed demeanor exuding confidence and strength. Kara, on the other hand, was quiet but observant, always seeming to analyze things before acting. She wasn't flashy, but she was smart, and that was just as valuable.

Marcus gave Atlas a short nod, his expression neutral but not unfriendly. "Looks like we're together."

"Yeah," Atlas replied, adjusting the scarf around his neck to cover his burn marks. He turned to Kara, who was already checking the straps on her gear with practiced efficiency. She didn't say anything, but she met his eyes briefly and gave him a curt nod.

Torren continued calling out names, his tone brisk and efficient. When the final group was formed, he stepped back and surveyed them all with a critical eye.

"You have until sundown to reach the summit," he said. "There's no clear path, so you'll need to rely on your instincts and your group to make it. Stick together, watch your footing, and keep moving. Anyone who doesn't make it by nightfall will have to answer to me." He then handed out maps too each group.

The warning hung heavy in the air, and Atlas didn't doubt for a second that Torren meant it. He exchanged a glance with Marcus, and then with Kara, who had a calm but focused expression.

"Get moving," Torren barked. "And remember—this isn't just about reaching the top. It's about how you get there."

With that, the groups began to disperse.

"Guess we'd better get going," Marcus said, leading the way with a steady stride.

Atlas nodded, falling into step behind him, with Kara taking up the rear.

Marcus pulled out the map Torren had handed their group, unfolding the rough parchment to reveal the marked trail they were expected to follow. Each group had a different route, clearly designed to ensure they couldn't rely on the others for assistance. It was typical Torren—a test of independence as much as endurance.

Marcus frowned, tracing the trail with his finger. "Looks like we've got a steep climb ahead," he muttered. "But there's a flat patch about halfway up the trail. We can rest there before making the final push to the summit."

Atlas nodded, his legs already burning from the earlier trek. "Good call."

"We should take stock of what we have before we go any further," Kara chimed in, her tone calm and practical. "We're only allowed to carry what we can fit on us, and we need to make sure we're prepared for whatever comes next."

Marcus raised an eyebrow but nodded in agreement, and Atlas shrugged. "Makes sense."

They all crouched down, pulling their gear out for inspection. Each of them had packed the essentials: a water canteen, a fire starter, and the compact energy bars they'd been issued during their survival lessons. The bars were dense and packed with nutrients, designed to sustain someone for an entire day. Atlas was relieved to see the other two were competent enough to have brought the basics—it could have been a disaster otherwise.

Kara took the lead, carefully examining their supplies. "We've got enough water and food to make it through the day, assuming nothing goes wrong," she said, her sharp eyes flicking between the boys. "But we should ration our energy bars. If Torren says we'll be at the summit by nightfall, it means we'll likely be staying there for at least a day. He wouldn't send us all the way up here just to turn around and come back."

Atlas grimaced, silently cursing Torren under his breath. The man hadn't given them any details about the purpose of this trip or how long they'd be in the mountains. They'd been forced to prepare blindly, relying on what little they'd learned in class. It was frustrating, but it was also exactly the kind of test Torren loved to throw at them.

"She's right," Marcus said, nodding at Kara's reasoning. "We split the bars evenly now and save the rest for later. We'll need the energy when the climb gets tougher."

Atlas agreed with a grunt, tucking his gear back into his pockets. Kara handed each of them one bar to eat immediately, and they tucked the remaining ones away for later. The small ration didn't feel like much, but it would have to do.

Once everything was sorted, Marcus rolled up the map and secured it in his pack. "All right," he said, standing and dusting snow off his knees. "Let's keep moving. We've got a lot of ground to cover."

Kara nodded, her quiet confidence keeping her focused. "Stay sharp," she added as they started up the trail again. "We don't know what else Torren has in store for us."

Atlas adjusted the strap on his sword and fell into step behind Marcus, his mind already working through the possibilities.

***

They didn't have to walk far before they came across their first obstacle: a vertical cliff wall.

The group stopped and tilted their heads back, staring up at the sheer face of the cliff. Water dripped from the edges above, glistening in the sunlight and making the surface look treacherous.

Marcus sighed heavily, muttering under his breath before speaking up. "No one brought a rope, did they?"

Atlas shook his head. "Didn't even cross my mind," he admitted, feeling a little sheepish.

Kara's cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her boots, letting her black hair fall over her face. "No," she said softly.

"Damn it." Marcus rubbed his temples before glancing back at the cliff. He seemed to be calculating something. "Do you think you two can climb it?"

Atlas eyed the cliff again, noting the handholds scattered along the surface. They were uneven but present, though the constant dripping water made the rocks look slick. He could already feel the ache in his muscles protesting at the thought of attempting it.

"Honestly… I don't think I'll make it," Atlas admitted, his tone flat.

"Me either," Kara said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Marcus frowned, tapping his foot against the ground. "I might be able to, but even if I did, there'd be no way to get the two of you up after me." He sighed again, his frustration evident. "We'll have to track back and find another route."

Atlas nodded. It was the only logical option, and he was glad Marcus was taking charge. They turned back the way they came, following the trail carefully. The climb down from where they had stopped was almost as challenging as going up, but they managed it without slipping.

The group trudged on for nearly an hour, scanning the surrounding terrain for another way forward. Just as Atlas's legs were starting to burn and his patience was wearing thin, they stumbled upon a valley nestled between two rocky slopes.

The valley was densely forested, towering trees stretching high into the sky, their branches laced with frost and snow. Shafts of sunlight broke through the canopy, dappling the forest floor in patches of golden light. The faint sound of a stream trickling through the trees mingled with the occasional rustle of branches, creating a tranquil atmosphere that felt almost surreal after the harshness of the climb.

"Looks like a safe passage," Marcus said, gesturing toward the tree-filled valley.

"Finally," Atlas muttered under his breath, relieved to see a way forward that didn't involve dangling off a cliff.

They descended into the valley carefully, the ground beneath them soft with layers of fallen leaves and snow. The air was cooler here, the dense forest insulating them from the worst of the mountain wind. As they moved deeper into the trees, the stream came into view, winding its way through the undergrowth with a soft, melodic sound.

Marcus raised a hand. "Let's stop for a moment. Catch our breath and refill our canteens."

No one argued. Atlas dropped to one knee by the stream, scooping water into his canteen and taking a deep drink. The icy liquid was refreshing, sending a jolt of energy through his tired limbs. Kara knelt nearby, doing the same, her quiet demeanor unchanged.

Marcus, ever vigilant, stood nearby, scanning their surroundings as he sipped from his own canteen. "We'll keep moving in a few minutes," he said, his tone firm but not harsh. "The further behind we fall, the longer this is going to take."

Atlas nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. As much as he appreciated the break, he knew Marcus was right. They had already lost time doubling back, and Torren wasn't the type to forgive lateness, no matter the excuse.

He glanced up at the towering trees, their trunks thick with moss and frost. The forest felt alive, its quiet serenity masking an underlying sense of danger. This wasn't just a simple training exercise—Torren was testing them, pushing them to their limits in every way possible.

"Guess we better get moving," Atlas said, capping his canteen and standing. The others followed suit, their breaths visible in the crisp mountain air as they prepared to press on through the forested valley.

As Atlas stood up, he heard Kara's soft voice cut through the stillness. "Um, guys… look at this."

Her tone made his stomach tighten. He followed her gaze to the forest floor, where a series of tracks marred the snow—fresh, deep, and far too many to be comforting. The prints crisscrossed chaotically, disappearing into the thick trees around them.

Atlas frowned, crouching to get a better look. They were larger than any animal he'd ever seen in Midtown. His stomach churned as unease settled over him.

Marcus stepped closer, his expression hard as he inspected the tracks. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

Atlas straightened, his heart beginning to race. Before he could ask, the sound reached them.

A low, guttural growl rolled through the valley, bouncing off the trees. It wasn't just one growl—it was several, layered and echoing. The sound vibrated in his chest, sending a cold shiver down his spine.

Kara froze, her eyes wide as she backed closer to Marcus. "What… what was that?" she whispered.

Atlas didn't answer. His hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his sword, his knuckles tightening as the growling grew louder, closer.