Sanctum of Trials.

  I had waited a long time for my turn to enter this place.

  The chamber was small and nearly bare, furnished only with a cushion-like seat at its center. The walls and ceiling were woven from wood and leaves, the unmistakable touch of druidic craftsmanship. Intricate sigils spiraled across the curved roof, each one pulsing with a faint green glow. The air here was heavy, saturated with a magic so thick it felt like a living thing brushing against my skin.

  I sat cross-legged and closed my eyes, steadying my breathing.

  The Sanctum of Trials was where druids learned their spells, choices that shaped the kind of druid you’d become. Most leaned toward buffs, enhancements, and restoration. Support magic.

  As my mind stilled, visions bloomed before me.

  Floating spell names. Glowing glyphs. Descriptions unfolding like leaves opening to sunlight.

  Verdant Surge.

  Emberroot.

  Nature’s Veil.

  Relief spread through my chest. They were exactly as I remembered from the game.

  I already knew which spell to choose, the one that was essential for surviving early on.

  How do I select it?

  I focused my thoughts on its name.

  [You have successfully learned Rejuvenation]

  Warmth flooded through me, a tingling sensation sparking in my antlers. I almost smiled.

  So it worked.

  One spell left.

  Newborn druids were encouraged to choose one defensive and one offensive option. That was the safe route.

  I wasn’t taking it.

  High risk, high reward. If this failed, I’d be useless. Maybe dead. But if it worked… it might give me a shot at reaching the upper floor.

  I drew a deep breath, centering my mind.

  [You have successfully learned Windstride]

  A sudden rush of energy coiled around my feet, light as a breath of air. My pulse quickened.

  Here’s hoping this gamble pays off.

  ***

  Once all the newborn druids finished learning their spells, the Archdruid and the elders bestowed their blessings. Then, those bearing insignias guided us deeper into the forest.

  I made my way near the back of the line, my eyes scanning the surroundings with quiet curiosity.

  "Where do you think they're taking us?" a scrawny druid beside me whispered, clutching his robes like they could hide his fear.

  “You’re asking the wrong guy,” I replied. “I wish I knew.”

  And I meant it.

  In Dreadspire, once you learned your first spells, you could wander around Willow’s End, chatting with NPCs, or hunting for hidden items. This? This was different. I had no clue what came next.

  “Well then,” the druid muttered, rubbing his reddened nose, ”my name’s Alwen Mordigai. Have you picked a name yet?”

  Before I could answer, a large, slightly pudgy druid with a smug grin cut in. “What kind of name is that?” he sneered. “Actually… it suits you perfectly.” His smile stretched wide, all teeth.

  Alwen’s nose flushed even redder, but he stayed quiet.

  “I like your name. It’s a good one,” I said, trying to give him some encouragement.

  The brute snorted loudly, mocking me. “Don’t lie. That’s the lamest name I’ve ever heard.”

  “Better than Piggy,” I said flatly.

  His brows furrowed. “What did you just say?”

  “Oh, sorry,” I sighed, giving him a mock-apologetic look. “I thought that was your name.” Then I blew a sharp snort through my nose, mimicking him.

  A small ripple of laughter spread among the druids nearby.

  Piggy’s face turned scarlet. “You little bastard!” he roared, yanking my arm and grabbing my collar.

  Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd around us. The line came to a halt.

  Some looked eager for a fight, while others watched with concern.

  “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” barked a deep, commanding voice.

  The crowd fell into a tense silence.

  A tall, broad-shouldered druid strode toward us, insignia gleaming on his chest. His antlers were jagged and uneven, as though shaped by countless battles.

  Piggy released me instantly, like he’d touched fire.

  “Don’t test me,” the druid growled. “I don’t want trouble.”

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  We both nodded quickly.

  He gave us a final, hard stare before turning his gaze toward the crowd. “All of you, keep moving. Don’t waste time.”

  Without another word, the crowd shuffled back into motion. No one dared complain. We continued our march through the forest, the tension slowly fading, but not forgotten.

  “You’re lucky,” Piggy muttered toward me, his tone dripping with threat. “Wait and see.”

  I ignored him and walked ahead. Alwen caught up to me, murmuring a soft "thank you."

  The forest opened into a wide courtyard where all the newborn druids gathered. Insignia-bearing druids stood before us in a line.

  “Listen up,” announced a tall druid whose presence alone commanded attention. “You are required to enter the Tower. We, the Instructors, will prepare you.”

  He paused before adding, “You’ll be divided into teams, each under one Instructor. And no, you don’t get to choose. We do.”

  Lovely. Nothing like starting a new life with forced group assignments.

  “My name is Instructor Belerick,” he said grimly. “If you’re chosen for my team, prepare to train until you wish you were dead.”

  The newborns immediately lowered their heads, doing their best to avoid eye contact with him.

  One by one, the other Instructors introduced themselves. I studied each carefully. If this world followed the game’s logic, this was a pivotal moment.

  Instructor Daria stood out immediately. A female druid in black-and-gold robes, carrying a staff with an oversized oak head, Oakmother’s Staff.

  My eyebrows rose. That wasn’t just rare. That was legendary-tier equipment.

  What’s she doing here, babysitting rookies?

  Then there was Instructor Dragan, the same muscular druid from earlier. He looked like someone who’d rather punch trees than commune with them. His broad frame and the glinting rings on his fingers told me enough: not your typical druid.

  After the introductions, some instructors began pacing around, scrutinizing closely before randomly choosing their teams.

  Well, "random" might have been a stretch.

  In the game, there were hidden requirements to join a specific Instructor, such as minimum stats, learned spells, or even your dialogue choices.

  And they didn’t all offer the same deal, either. Some gave better starting gear, others unlocked hidden quest lines. I didn’t know how much of that still applied here, but one thing was clear: there was some hierarchy. The higher-ranked instructors got first pick, and the stronger ones always came with the best perks.

  Which meant one thing.

  Getting picked early could make a huge difference.

  Selections moved quickly. Piggy strutted with his head high after being chosen first by Instructor Darren, clearly savoring the moment like he’d just won a lifetime achievement award.

  I stayed quiet, watching as the Instructors moved down the line. Then, Instructor Daria stopped right in front of me.

  Hope sparked.

  “You,” she said—only, not to me. Her gaze slid past and landed on the newborn druid beside me. “What’s your name?”

  The butterflies in my stomach evaporated instantly.

  “My name is Thorvyn,” he said, trying and failing to hide a grin.

  Instructor Daria nodded once, raising her gleaming staff. “You’re with me. Follow.”

  Thorvyn puffed up like a peacock as he strutted after her. I straightened my back, pretending I didn’t care. But inside, that old, familiar ache crawled back, the sting of always being the one left behind.

  No. Not again. This is a different world, I reminded myself. This time, things will be different.

  But as the minutes dragged on, my confidence began to crumble.

  Cheers and eager footsteps echoed each time someone else was chosen, and slowly the crowd thinned. Less than half remained, and still, no one called me.

  Even Instructor Dragan passed me over again and again without so much as a glance.

  Am I… weak, even here?

  The thought lingered, sour and heavy, threatening to root itself deep. For a moment, I almost let it. Almost lowered my head and waited for someone else to decide where I belonged.

  No.

  I’d done that before. It never ended well.

  I wasn’t going to sit quietly and let history repeat itself. Not this time.

  I drew in a sharp breath, forcing my nerves to steady. The Archdruid’s words echoed in my mind, about casting spells directly without a staff. Maybe I could prove myself here. Maybe that would make them notice.

  Closing my eyes, I reached inward.

  Yes… there it is.

  A faint pulse, threading through me, soft but alive. The sounds of the courtyard faded away, replaced by the cool murmur of flowing Mana, like a stream gliding over stone. For a moment, I felt whole, like I’d become one with the forest itself.

  I whispered the incantation, again and again, each word guiding the flow of Mana toward my hand. With every repetition, the feeling intensified, stronger, and surging with potential.

  Yes. This is it. I can do this.

  But then, without warning, it slipped away.

  The Mana drained like water from a faucet abruptly shut.

  No. No, no, not now…

  The world snapped back into place. My focus shattered. Panic clawed up my throat.

  “No—!”

  The sound tore out of me before I could stop it.

  The word rang louder than I intended, and heat rushed to my face as I opened my eyes. Every head had turned. Some frowned, others smirked, and a few outright snickered.

  Perfect. Just perfect.

  Still, not all hope was lost. One of the Instructors, a tall, sharp-eyed man, was watching me intently. His expression unreadable.

  When he began to walk toward me, my heart leapt.

  “You won’t regret choosing me, Instructor Damian,” I blurted out, forcing confidence into my voice despite the embarrassment still simmering inside.

  “Interesting,” he said, studying me more closely now.

  Okay... that’s promising.

  “You’re reaching too hard,” he added quietly. “Power doesn’t respond well to desperation.”

  He paused, almost regretfully. “Unfortunately, my team is already full. But don’t worry, no one will be left without a place.” His tone was kind, meant to soothe.

  It didn’t help.

  I forced a smile anyway. “Thanks, Instructor. I guess I’ll just... wait a little longer, then.”

  He nodded and turned away.

  But I refused to give up. Closing my eyes again, I tried to regain focus.

  It didn’t last. A firm hand landed on my shoulder, snapping me back.

  “Are you planning to make another scene?” came a sharp female voice from behind me.

  I turned reflexively. The hand belonged to a female druid, who seemed younger than the other Instructors and draped in flowing crimson robes. Her features were sharp, and her deep brown eyes were intimidating.

  “If that’s what it takes for others to notice my potential, I don’t mind,” I replied calmly, though I prayed it didn’t come across as defiance.

  “No need,” she said flatly, pressing down a little harder on my shoulder. Her words carried a weight I couldn’t quite decipher.

  Before I could ask, she continued, her tone shifting.

  “You cannot force it. Relax your body. Let the Mana flow on its own.”

  So, she noticed what I was trying to do.

  “Please, teach me more,” I said with quiet determination.

  For a moment, her stern face softened. A faint smile touched her lips as she withdrew her hand. “Only if you listen and follow my instructions, young one.”

  “My name is Eryndor Leafshade,” I said, bowing my head. “And I won’t disappoint you.”

  Her smile lingered, this time with a touch of amusement. “Now go, join the others.” She pointed toward a small group of druids waving me over, and I could see Alwen’s bright, joyful face among them.

  At last, I had a place.