Forged By Falcrest

The Nightblade's calm voice broke the silence as they gestured toward a cluster of small cabins nestled around the peak of the mountain. The structures were old and weathered, their wooden frames sagging slightly under the weight of the snow on their roofs. Despite their worn appearance, they still stood strong against the biting winds.

"Get some rest," the Nightblade instructed, their tone clipped but not unkind. "Each group will share a cabin. You'll need your strength for tomorrow."

Atlas, Marcus, and Kara exchanged glances before heading toward the nearest cabin. The door creaked loudly as Marcus pushed it open, revealing a small, dimly lit interior. The room was cramped, with only a single fireplace, a low wooden table, and a few threadbare blankets scattered on rudimentary cots. The walls were lined with frost, and the air inside was no warmer than outside.

Kara hesitated at the doorway, her hands tightening on the straps of her gear. Her unease was evident, but Marcus was quick to reassure her. "Don't worry. We'll keep things respectful," he said, his voice steady.

Atlas nodded in agreement. "Yeah. We're just here to survive this. No one's crossing any lines."

That seemed to ease her nerves, and she stepped inside, glancing around the space. Marcus closed the door behind them, shutting out the howling wind.

The three worked together to get a fire going in the small hearth, feeding it scraps of wood they found stacked in a corner. The warmth quickly filled the room, melting some of the frost on the walls and taking the edge off the chill in their bones. They settled down near the fire.

Kara rummaged through one of her pouches and pulled out a needle and thread. "Let me see your arm,"

Atlas hesitated but extended his injured arm. The makeshift bandage she'd applied earlier was soaked with blood, the claw marks beneath red and angry. She worked silently, stitching the wound with practiced hands. Her movements were steady, but Atlas could see the faint lines of worry on her face as she focused on the task.

"Thanks," he muttered when she finished, flexing his fingers to test the stitches.

"Don't push it too much," Kara said, tucking the thread away. "It's not perfect, but it'll hold. Sorry I don't have a healing spell yet."

Beats me, I don't even have a spell yet

The three of them sat around the fire, the flickering flames casting long shadows on the walls. They fell into quiet conversation, their voices low as they shared their thoughts on what lay ahead.

Marcus leaned back against the wall, his broad shoulders relaxed despite the tension in the air. "This whole thing feels like another one of Torren's games," he said. "He's testing more than just our endurance. He wants to see how we work as a team."

Atlas nodded. "Makes sense. Out here, we don't have the academy walls to fall back on. It's just us."

Kara, who had been mostly silent, finally spoke. "I think there's more to it than that," she said, her voice thoughtful. "Torren doesn't just want us to survive. He wants us to figure out why we're here. I think this is our first real test in becoming blades."

The two boys exchanged glances. Kara had a point—Torren rarely did anything without a deeper purpose. But what that purpose was remained a mystery.

As the fire crackled, the conversation turned to lighter topics. Marcus and Atlas did most of the talking, sharing small anecdotes from their training and speculating about what challenges might await them. Kara chimed in occasionally, her quiet remarks adding to the discussion. Despite her reserved nature, she seemed more at ease in the warm glow of the fire.

For the first time since the climb had begun, the tension between them eased. Whatever unspoken judgments or reservations they might have had about each other were set aside in the face of their shared situation. Out here, trust was a necessity, and reliance on each other was unavoidable.

The night wore on, and exhaustion began to creep over them. Marcus stretched out on one of the cots, his head resting on his folded arms. Kara took the other, wrapping herself in one of the thin blankets and turning toward the wall for a semblance of privacy. Atlas settled near the fire, pulling his scarf up and wrapping himself in his own blanket. The warmth of the flames and the soft crackle of the fire provided a small comfort as sleep began to claim him.

For a moment, as he stared into the dancing flames, Atlas thought about how far he had come—from the cold streets of Midtown to this frozen mountaintop, surrounded by people he barely knew but had to trust.

Life sure does change… I hope Granny Lucy is doing okay. And Ren.

The room fell silent, save for the soft breathing of his companions and the faint howl of the wind outside. With his sword within reach and the fire still burning strong, Atlas allowed himself to close his eyes and drift into sleep.

***

The early morning air was biting as the sun cast its first weak rays over the mountain peak. The cold was a reminder that their rest had been brief and that more trials lay ahead. Atlas stirred reluctantly, his muscles stiff and his arm aching from the fight the day before. He was the last to wake, and when he finally pushed himself upright, he saw Marcus already standing by the door, arms crossed.

"Hurry up, The Nightblade's about to go over our next task."

Atlas groaned quietly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he swung his legs over the side of his cot. He didn't have much to do to get ready—just strap his sword onto his back and run his fingers through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to straighten it. He caught his reflection in the small, frost-covered window and sighed. Good enough.

Marcus, however, was already tidying himself up. He had pulled out a small mirror and was splashing water onto his face, scruffing up his short dark hair to give it some semblance of order. Despite the grueling climb and the fight from the previous day, he still managed to look composed, Atlas would be lying if he said he wasn't slightly jelous of the boy. He had a strong figure with dark hair and brown eyes. He saw the way people would look at him in class and the way he was admired by many.

Oh well, can't do much about it.

Kara, unsurprisingly, was already ready. She sat quietly near the door, her daggers tucked neatly by pouches at her hips. She must have risen extra early to prepare, as her gear was perfectly arranged, and her black hair had been tied back tightly. Her calm, composed demeanor made Atlas feel slightly disheveled, but he wasn't about to dwell on it.

Once they were all set, the three of them stepped outside into the crisp morning air. The mountain peak was alive with activity as other groups gathered, their breaths visible in the cold as they exchanged quiet words and adjusted their gear. The cabins, while scattered, created a loose circle around the summit, and the Nightblade stood at the center, their dark figure an imposing presence against the stark white snow.

Atlas's eyes scanned the crowd, noting the familiar faces of his classmates. Not everyone was there yet—some groups must have struggled more with the climb—but he did spot Seth and his team. Seth caught his eye and gave him a quick nod, his ever-present grin softening the sharpness of the morning.

Atlas nodded back, his lips twitching into a faint smile. Rea, standing beside Seth, noticed the exchange and offered him a small, warm smile of her own. Her blonde hair caught the early sunlight, and for a moment, she looked entirely at ease. Atlas struggled to pull his eyes away.

Thankfully, Aaron was preoccupied, his back turned to Atlas as he spoke animatedly to another student. Atlas was grateful for the reprieve. The last thing he needed was Aaron's sneering comments or attempts to assert his superiority in front of everyone.

Atlas's gaze lingered on Rea. He had mixed feelings about her. When they'd first met, he'd quite liked her—she was one of the first girls his age he'd ever spoken to, and her outgoing personality had been a refreshing change from the aloofness of the others. But that had changed after she'd deliberately made Aaron angry at his expense. It hadn't been an outright betrayal, but it had left a sour taste in his mouth. He'd dealt with enough manipulation and schemes back in Midtown. He didn't need it here, not from someone he'd thought might have been a friend.

Pushing the thought aside, he refocused on the task at hand. The Nightblade's sharp voice cut through the morning chatter, pulling everyone's attention to the center of the clearing.

"Listen up," he began, his tone steady but sharp. "I'm Striker Thane Merrick. I'll be overseeing this next stage of your training. I'm not here to coddle you, nor am I here to throw you to the wolves. What happens from here on out is up to you and your group. The decisions you make will determine your success—or failure."

Atlas shifted uneasily, glancing at Marcus and Kara. The Nightblade's words carried weight, and the air around him seemed to shimmer him hues of yellow to red. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for what came next.

Thane's sharp gaze scanned the group. "Your next task is simple," he continued, his voice cutting through the cold mountain air. "Each group has been assigned a marked location. At that location, you'll find a cache of supplies. These supplies are what you'll need to survive for the next month."

A ripple of murmurs swept through the group at the mention of "a month." Atlas exchanged a glance with Marcus, who raised an eyebrow but kept his expression otherwise neutral.

Thane didn't give them time to dwell. "Each group has its own route, and each route leads to a cache. But," he paused, letting the weight of his next words settle over them, "those caches aren't unguarded. Each one is protected by a mana beast."

The murmurs turned to whispers, then to outright exclamations of shock. Even Marcus stiffened slightly, though he quickly masked it.

Atlas felt his stomach churn. A mana beast?They had been learning about the different types of beasts for a while now, mana beasts were creatures infused with mana, stronger, faster, and deadlier than ordinary animals.

Thane let the shock hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "The nature of the beast guarding your cache varies depending on the location assigned to your group. Your task is to retrieve the supplies, no matter what. How you do that is entirely up to you. There are no rules, no instructions. Just one objective: bring back the cache."

"You have one hour to prepare before you leave," Thane said, his voice unyielding. "Study your map, plan your approach, and decide as a group how you'll handle the beast. Failure to retrieve the cache means you'll go the month without supplies. And believe me when I say, surviving the wilds without those supplies will make facing the mana beast seem like the easy part."

Atlas clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. They could do this.

Thane's gaze swept over the group one last time. "You'll leave when I call your group. Use your time wisely." He began walking around and handing out the maps.

When Marcus received theirs, he immediately unfurled it, his sharp eyes scanning the marked route. Kara and Atlas leaned in and they studied the map together. It showed a winding path leading into the forest below, where a clearing was marked with a red X. Beside the X was a single notation: "Direfang Lynx."

Atlas swallowed hard. The Direfang Lynx was a name he recognized—an apex predator known for its razor-sharp claws and mana-infused fangs. Fast, cunning, and fiercely territorial.

Marcus exhaled slowly, his expression calm but serious. "Looks like we've got our work cut out for us."

Kara nodded, her face pale but determined. "We need a plan," she said quietly. "We can't just charge in blindly."

Atlas nodded, though his mind was already racing. How were they supposed to retrieve the cache when something like that was guarding it?

Marcus rolled up the map, tucking it into one of the many pockets on his gear. "We've got an hour," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Let's use it."

The three of them found a quiet spot to sit, huddled together as they began discussing their approach. Around them, other groups were doing the same, their low voices blending with the sound of the wind. Atlas glanced at Seth's group, catching his friend's eye. Seth gave him a small nod, which he returned. Rea smiled at him, but he quickly looked away, avoiding any unnecessary distractions.

"This isn't going to be easy," Marcus said, pulling Atlas's attention back to their group. "But we'll figure it out."

The clock was ticking, and the weight of the task pressed heavily on Atlas's shoulders. The next few hours would determine not just their success, but their survival.

Atlas tightened the strap of his sword as he sat cross-legged on the ground with Marcus and Kara, the map spread out between them. His golden eyes scanned the marked location of their cache—a clearing deep in the forest, where the words "Direfang Lynx" loomed ominously.

He let out a breath, his brow furrowed. "So… how are we supposed to kill it?" The question hung heavy in the air, his voice low but serious. They had all learned about mana beasts in their classes—creatures infused with mana, exponentially stronger and more dangerous than their mundane counterparts. Taking one down wasn't just a matter of brute force; it required strategy, skill, and a healthy dose of luck.

Marcus nodded, his expression calm but focused. "We're not just going to charge at it. We'll need to wear it down. Use the environment to our advantage. We'll divide its attention, and then I'll go for the kill while you two keep it distracted. My fire can likely burn through its thick fur if Kara can hold it down with her water arms and you, Atlas can keep it distracted with your blade."

Atlas nodded along, the beginnings of a plan forming in his mind. It was simple, and maybe that was for the best. They didn't have the luxury of complicated maneuvers, not with a beast like this.

It wasn't until Kara spoke, her soft voice cutting through the tension, that he realized how flawed their thinking was. "We don't need to kill it," she said, her dark eyes glancing between them. Her tone was calm but firm, her quiet confidence unmistakable.

Both boys turned to her, surprised. "What do you mean?" Atlas asked, feeling a little defensive. Killing it seemed like the obvious solution, didn't it? That's what the academy trained them for, after all.

Kara shifted her weight, brushing a strand of black hair from her face. "Our objective isn't to fight the lynx. It's to retrieve the cache. Killing it would take too much time and energy—not to mention the risk. We don't even know if we can take it down. But if we distract it, keep it away from the supplies long enough, we can grab what we need and leave before it even realizes what's happening."

Atlas blinked, feeling a pang of embarrassment at how obvious her reasoning sounded now that she'd said it out loud. Of course, the goal wasn't to kill the lynx. Why hadn't he thought of that? He glanced at Marcus, who was already nodding, his lips pressed into a thoughtful line.

"She's right," Marcus admitted, his tone grudging but respectful. "No point in picking a fight we don't have to."

Kara leaned forward, tracing a path on the map with her finger. "The clearing where the cache is located is surrounded by dense trees. If we approach quietly, we can stay out of its sight and set up a diversion. One of us can lure it away from the cache—make noise, throw something, whatever works—while the other two grab the supplies. Once we've got what we need, we retreat. Quick and clean."

Atlas hesitated, the plan settling in his mind. It made sense—more sense than his or Marcus's initial idea. But part of him felt a little foolish for not having thought of it himself. "That… actually sounds like it could work," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

Kara's lips twitched into a faint smile, though she didn't gloat. "We'll need to move carefully," she added. "The lynx will be fast. If it notices us before we've got the supplies, we'll have to improvise."

Marcus folded the map and tucked it back into his pocket. "Fine. We'll go with Kara's plan. Atlas, you'll be the one to lure the lynx away. You're quick on your feet, probably the fastest here and we'll need that if it decides to chase."

Atlas nodded, his pulse quickening at the prospect. "Got it."

"I'll handle the cache," Kara continued. "I'll be able to gather everything quickly."

"That leaves me to cover you both," Marcus said, cracking his knuckles. "If the lynx catches on, I'll keep it off your backs long enough for us to get out of there."

The three of them exchanged a look, the weight of the task settling over them. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was a good one. And, more importantly, it gave them a chance—a better chance than charging blindly at a mana beast that could rip them apart.

"Let's go," Marcus said, rising to his feet. "We've got a job to do."

Atlas stood, adjusting the sword on his back. Kara followed, her daggers already tucked into the pouches at her sides. Together, they moved toward the forest, their steps quiet but purposeful.

The Direfang Lynx and their supplies were waiting.