While Fynn was busy finalising his awakening after completing the second trial, Scarlett made her way to a section of the cave where a wolf had been carved into the stone wall. She pressed her hand into a palm print at its centre. With a deep creak of stone grinding against stone, the wall split apart, revealing a dark hollow beyond.

A bright flame coalesced in the air to light her way as she stepped inside, her gaze briefly sweeping over the array of artefacts laid out on a bed of cut stone.

[Mark of the Tempest Warden (Legendary)]

{This ring hums with restrained force, as if bracing against an unseen storm}

[Lens of Measured Wind (Legendary)]

{Through restraint, the storm becomes precise}

[Mantle of Preservation (Epic)]

{Motion once halted is remembered here, yearning never to be broken again}

[Binder of Converging Ends (Epic)]

{What is felled together remembers one another}

[Resonance Sigil of Remembrance (Unique)]

{This etched mark once guided forgotten verses into form; now it hums, waiting for a voice it recognises}

They were all undoubtedly valuable and broadly useful pieces of equipment, but compared to most of what Scarlett already possessed—or had already outfitted her party with—they weren’t particularly remarkable. She would distribute whatever the others could make use of and find some other purpose for what was left.

She placed the artefacts into her [Pouch of Holding], pausing only when she reached the [Resonance Sigil of Remembrance]. It was a long, thin sigil made of bone, cracked along its outer ring and etched with symbols she couldn’t make sense of. A shallow recess had been worked into it, clearly meant to hold something else.

If there was anything here she might still actually use, it was this. The sigil was designed to combine with an artefact she’d picked up during the first trial—the [Fang of Remembrance]—and she had wanted to reunite the two for a long time now, mostly because of the unique effect they produced together. Back then, it had been part of her early plans to work around her inability to cast spells.

She just wasn’t sure it was worth the trouble anymore, not with how far her pyrokinesis had come.

Still, there was one possible use she hadn’t completely ruled out. She wasn’t confident it would work, but it might be interesting to try.

First things first, though. She needed to find the final component to repair both the sigil and the fang, and that should be waiting for them once the third trial was done.

Satisfied for now, she returned to the others.

Most of them were gathered around Fynn, watching him while talking over the fight. Carnwedain stood by himself like a lone mountain, studying the youth in silence.

Curiously, Nol’viz and Slate were positioned directly behind Fynn, not watching him so much as staring at the ground where his shadow fell.

Scarlett walked over.

“Has something caught your attention?” she asked, glancing between the two girls.

They both turned to face her.

“We were listening,” Nol’viz answered, lifting one robed arm and gesturing towards Fynn’s shadow. It flickered and shifted in the uneven light cast by the braziers lining the walls.

“Listening to what?”

“To the insights of Fyntrath Grehaldrael’s forebears,” Slate said.

“…You can hear them?”

Scarlett looked from Nol’viz to Fynn’s shadow again.

Nol’viz shouldn’t have been able to move or use her abilities properly at the moment. Not with the seal Scarlett had put on her as a precaution. She’d repurposed a cursed artefact that suppressed power—one she’d had lying around for a while—and, using Thainnith’s legacy, extended it into a simplified design similar to the one in Nol’viz’s cell. It was weaker and wouldn’t last as long, but Scarlett had run enough tests to be fairly confident it worked as intended.

“We do not need to hear,” Nol’viz said, her pupils narrowing to pale slits. “He is in front of us. We can see.”

Scarlett studied her for a moment. “I see.” She turned to Slate. “And is it the same for you?”

“The Grehaldrael ancestors are prescriptive,” the homunculus replied. “Prescriptive knowledge follows a defined structure. Structure is easily understood.”

“Then are they saying anything interesting?”

“Interest is subjective. I do not share your perspective and therefore cannot evaluate it accurately.”

Nol’viz shook her head, pale hair slipping loose around the edges of her mask. “We find them dull.” She pointed at Fynn. “He is more interesting.”

“Is that so?” Scarlett gave Fynn one last look before stepping away to wait with the others.

She was a little curious what it might be like to hear—or otherwise perceive—whatever Fynn was getting from his ancestors, but not enough to dwell on it. She doubted she could make any use of it, and she didn’t have much respect for the ancestors. The same appeared to go for Fynn. At best, they were a storehouse of old knowledge that could occasionally help Fynn grow stronger, but Scarlett had no doubt he would’ve reached the same point on his own.

Fynn stayed in his trance for over two hours. During that time, Scarlett and the others passed the wait with light conversation. Slate and Nol’viz stayed close to Fynn, continuing to ‘listen in’ on his ancestors, while Carnwedain remained exactly where he was, unmoving and silent. Some might have said brooding, but Scarlett didn’t know if he could brood.

When Fynn finally opened his eyes, a brief glow flared within them, followed by a sudden rush of wind that tore through the chamber. Distant whispers rode along with it, like overlapping voices carried from far away. The glow faded quickly, and after a few moments spent looking over the group—his gaze stopping on Nol’viz and Slate as they nearly leaned over him—Fynn stood up.

“Feeling good?” Rosa asked.

Fynn nodded. “Yes.”

“Did you learn anything fancy?”

“Yes.”

“Mind sharing?”

“You will see soon.”

“Huh. Alright. Be all mysterious, then.” Rosa shot Scarlett a sideways look. “You’ve been a bad influence on the boy.”

Scarlett almost rolled her eyes, but didn’t let herself. “You are hardly qualified to comment on that.”

She rose, folding away the compact travel chair she’d once bought specifically for excursions like these and stored in the [Bag of Juham], then signalled for the others to get ready to move. An exit had been carved into the back of the loot chamber, and following the narrow passage beyond it led them out onto a jagged overhang. It clung precariously to the mountainside, with the sharp silhouettes of neighbouring peaks stretching out before it.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Haetrach—the tallest of them—loomed straight ahead, its summit cutting into the sky.

They’d be heading there soon enough.

“Fynn, you know what comes next,” she said after a moment.

A serious expression crossed his face as he closed his eyes.

The thing with his trials was that they technically required him to begin an awakening before he could even enter them. Since the next one hadn’t triggered automatically after the second trial, he would need to force it. Just as he’d deliberately delayed his second awakening before, Fynn had been confident that forcing the next wouldn’t be an issue.

It turned out he was right.

Scarlett instinctively backed away from the edge as another powerful wind surged up around Fynn, steadily growing stronger. It quickly surpassed even the fiercest gales they’d endured during the boss fight, forcing Kat to throw up a terramancy spell and conjure a solid stone barrier between them and Fynn.

Even through it, Scarlett could hear the violence of the wind, like a tornado tearing past. Low rumbles echoed in the distance, and she couldn’t help wondering if avalanches were being triggered somewhere along the slopes.

Several minutes passed with no sign of the storm easing.

Until it did. Just like that.

A long silence followed.

Kat waited a few moments before dismissing her spell, revealing Fynn again.

Scarlett frowned slightly. It felt like there was something fiercer in his eyes now.

It bothered her.

“…Are you in full control?” she asked.

He didn’t answer right away, watching her intently.

“Fynn,” she said.

That seemed to snap him out of it. He blinked, and the edge in his gaze dulled.

“I am,” he replied.

Scarlett studied him. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“…Very well. Then show the way.”

Fynn glanced around, then quickly picked out a narrow path running along the side of the mountain, looping back towards where they’d first arrived. From there, they continued climbing, the already exhausting trek growing steeper and more punishing with every stretch. Rosa’s charms kept Scarlett from wearing herself out completely, and before long, she actually started relying on the Athame for short teleport hops whenever the terrain became too much for anyone but Fynn to handle.

The mountain itself was massive — both tall and sprawling. Fynn’s tribe had already lived pretty high, but it still took a long while before the peak proper came into view. Once it did, though, it felt as if the rest of the climb shrank. The time between spotting their destination and reaching it passed quickly.

They soon emerged onto a wide, flattened section of the mountainside only a few hundred metres from the summit. Pillars of carved stone rose from the thin snow, arranged in a broad circular formation.

Fynn stopped at its edge, his hair tugged by the cold wind.

After a moment, he drew in a slow, steady breath. As he let it out, a powerful gust burst forward, whipping the snow up into a swirling veil that scattered away to reveal a large stone platform beneath.

Fynn stepped onto it.

Lines of blue light flared to life beneath his feet, spreading in intricate circles across the platform. The stone in front of him cracked apart, splitting and reshaping itself into a descending staircase that vanished into the earth.

“Oh. Wow,” Kat breathed. “That’s one clean spell.”

Scarlett spared Kat a brief glance, then refocused on Fynn as he started down the steps without hesitation. She watched his back for a second longer before following with the others.

The staircase opened into a vast underground hall, supported by towering columns and lit by statues of wolves lining the sides — each one crowned with flames burning where their eyes should have been, their stone gazes fixed on the group below. Set into the far wall was a pair of enormous doors.

Scarlett only spared it all a passing look before her attention locked onto Fynn again.

She still had her concerns. There was still a chance something would go wrong with the ancestors. Fynn was probably right that they could handle it if it did, but that didn’t mean she was eager to test that theory.

“I know this might be a bit late to ask,” Allyssa said quietly as they moved halfway through the hall, eyes flicking nervously towards the statues, “but what were these trials actually for? Why are your ancestors so set on you doing them? Did everyone in your tribe have to?”

Fynn glanced back at her, then faced forward again. “No. Only a few did, each generation. My mother was the last one who did. When she took the trials, they were overseen by the elders, not the ancestors.” His gaze dropped briefly to the [Mark of the Gale] on his finger. “For the elders, it was tradition. But the ancestors…they want revenge.”

“Revenge against what?” Allyssa asked.

“Our enemy.”

Fynn went quiet again, and Allyssa didn’t press further.

As they neared the doors, Kat spoke up instead. “Your mum must’ve been pretty strong, then. If she managed all the trials on her own.”

Fynn stopped in front of the doors, looking up at the weathered carvings etched across their surface.

“She was,” he said. “But I’m stronger now.”

Kat’s brows lifted. “Then shouldn’t this next trial be easy?”

Fynn shook his head. “No.”

Kat shot Scarlett a questioning look.

“The third trial is not fixed, as the first two are,” Scarlett explained. “In a sense, its form is decided by the one taking it.”

Kat frowned, but nodded.

Fynn placed his hand against the doors.

With a deep, grinding rumble that felt like the mountain itself was shifting, they slowly slid open. Beyond them lay a great chamber carved directly from the rock. Tiered steps rose towards a central dais, flanked by towering stone walls etched with worn reliefs of wolves in motion. Braziers burned with a steady, pale flame, their light refracting through jagged ice crystals embedded in the floor and walls, casting cold reflections that drifted like mist. Overhead, the ceiling arched into shadow, broken only by a circular rupture where wind spiralled endlessly downward, filling the hall with a low, constant howl.

Atop the dais lay a single wolf.

A colossal one.

Its fur was frost-pale and impossibly smooth, as if time itself had settled around it. Its massive head rested to one side, eyes closed, as veins of faint light traced through cracks in the stone beneath its body, converging beneath its chest.

The air felt heavy and expectant, pressing down in a way that was difficult to put into words.

“That’s…a big wolf,” Rosa said.

“It’s Grehalyr,” Fynn replied. He entered the chamber, crossing it and stopping at the base of the dais, looking up at the beast. Scarlett and the others followed, halting a few steps behind him.

Scarlett had known what to expect before coming here, but seeing Grehalyr in person still caught her slightly off guard. This was a true progenitor. A creature that had existed almost since the Material Realm itself had formed — as old as the oldest dragons, and more powerful than nearly anything that had ever walked the world.

And yet, it was dead.

What remained was its corpse, infused with a fragment of lingering will.

The flames in the chamber flickered as a sudden gust swept down from the vortex above.

Fynn stiffened. The air around him shifted.

“Fynn?” Shin reacted immediately, raising his shield slightly.

A sharp pressure rippled through the space.

“Fynn,” Scarlett said.

He didn’t answer. The wind gathered around him.

Scarlett cursed inwardly, readying herself to intervene — when the air changed again. A breeze flowed in, gentle and steady, settling around Fynn like a calming presence.

Scarlett paused. The sensation felt surprisingly…familiar. Almost like when she’d first encountered Thainnith’s remnant.

Her gaze snapped back to the wolf.

The breeze was coming from Grehalyr.

The wind around Fynn eased, his shoulders relaxing as the tension drained from him. A moment of silence passed, then his voice carried through the chamber.

“I don’t accept it,” he said loudly, staring up at Grehalyr.

Another breeze answered him.

Fynn clenched his fists. “They’re all gone. There might never be another who takes the trials. If I’m the last…then I want to finish it. No matter how long it takes.”

“Is he…talking to the wolf?” Allyssa whispered.

“I think so?” Rosa replied.

Scarlett watched the wolf closely. “Grehalyr is acknowledging him as a worthy successor.”

Allyssa looked to her. “It’s alive? I thought it was dead.”

“It has a lingering presence. Grehalyr is dead, but part of its will remains in this vessel.”

That much had been explained in the game as well. But what Scarlett only realised now was that Grehalyr must have been an existence similar to Thainnith and the other divinarchs. A sort of demigod.

At the same time, she felt the anomalous power sealed within Thainnith’s legacy stir, restless. Like it sensed an opponent.

Or a feast.

She hadn’t felt that before. Not even when dealing with gods like Adtia or Itris.

“If the wolf’s acknowledging him,” Kat said, gesturing at Fynn, “does that mean he’s already passed? That he doesn’t have to do the trial?”

“Technically, yes,” Scarlett replied.

“But…?”

“There was never any realistic possibility of him accepting it under such terms.”

It had been the same in the game, and Scarlett had never expected it to be any different here. In theory, the trial could have ended at this point, and his awakening would have been complete. She was even fairly certain she could have convinced Fynn to settle for that outcome.

But she didn’t want that. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

She wanted him to have the opportunity to see this through properly. She believed he deserved that chance. The danger involved was very, very real, but she could live with it. She’d accepted much worse with Rosa.

That was, of course, assuming this was truly Fynn’s choice.

The breeze moved through the chamber again, this time carrying a subtle emphasis, like a question being pressed and an answer given all at once.

Fynn turned to face them. His irises were fully lit now, glowing with contained intensity.

“She has given her approval. The true trial will start soon.” His gaze settled on Scarlett. “Will you join me?”

Scarlett met his eyes. “…Is this truly your request, and not that of your ancestors?”

He hesitated, the glow flickering slightly. Then he nodded, resolve settling firmly into his expression. “They want this. But so do I. I won’t let their desire for revenge control me, but…they aren’t the only ones carrying anger.”

Scarlett studied him for a long moment. Finally, she inclined her head. “Very well. Then you already know my answer, and why we are here.”

To her surprise, Fynn smiled. “Thank you.”

He turned back towards Grehalyr. “Can you take us there?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Scarlett saw a system window snap into place next to her.

[Side quest: To kill an ancient]