SWNOVELXO Chapter 8: A Stormy Trials- Orla POV
"What do you see?" Thalia asked.
We had walked a long way from the castle, leaving just before sunset. Now, the sky was dark, filled with stars. There wasn't a trace of the sun anymore.
"A willow tree in the middle of the lake," I answered, describing the lone, towering tree that stood on a small island in the center of the water.
Thalia nodded thoughtfully. "There's an old lore about the Tree of Light. The willow tree's structure resembles it closely," she said, raising her hand. As if by magic, a path of shimmering ice appeared across the lake, connecting the shore to the isle where the willow tree stood.
We stepped onto the icy path, and with each step, Thalia's words pulled me deeper into the story. "Every willow tree in this land was burned," she continued. "The werewolves believed the willows connected us to our magic. They weren't entirely wrong. Long ago, we worshipped the willow trees, using them to connect with the spirits and the gods."
We reached the island and stood beneath the willow. Its long, graceful branches cascaded down like waterfalls, with tiny droplets glistening and dripping from each strand, catching the moonlight like little stars.
"But the willow tree has another purpose," Thalia added mysteriously, glancing at me.
I couldn't hold back my irritation anymore. "What does this tree have to do with the challenge you're going to give me?" I asked. I wanted to prove myself, show her what I could do—yet here we were, talking about ancient trees and spirits.
Thalia smiled, sensing my impatience. "Sometimes, the greatest strength comes not from power, but from understanding. This tree holds secrets older than any magic you know."
"But you haven't taught us real magic yet!" I protested. It was true—they'd only shown us the basics, barely enough to protect ourselves, let alone fight back.
Thalia just shook her head with a slight smile. "And that's exactly why I *won't* teach you," she replied calmly.
Her words made me panic. "Then how am I supposed to defend myself? How am I supposed to avenge my parents… my village?" I felt a tear slip down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away, but it was too late—she'd already seen.
"Lose it," she said gently, yet her voice held a strange, chilling edge. "Your emotions… if you cannot balance them, they'll consume you. And once they do, you lose."
Her eyes held mine, and despite the warmth in her voice, I felt the coolness beneath it, like a hidden layer of ice. She continued, "Your anger is a powerful fuel, yes, but it's also dangerous. If you let it control you, it will destroy you just as easily as any enemy."
Her words stung, but I could see the truth in them. She smiled then, but it wasn't the kind of smile that made you feel better—it was the kind that made you realize just how far you still had to go.
"This tree will take you to a place I want you to go, and once you're there, I want you to kill the object I have in mind," Thalia said, her words calm but unnervingly serious.
The challenge shocked me. "Kill?" I stammered, my voice wavering. "I barely know any defense, let alone magic!"
"You said you have what it takes," she replied, her gaze locking onto mine with steely intensity. "Then show me."
A tremor ran through me, but I swallowed my fear. I knew I needed this. I needed to be stronger, to prove myself.
"But… how will I know what the right target is?" My voice shook despite my attempts to steady it.
"You'll know," Thalia said softly. Before I could react, she reached out and pushed me against the tree. Suddenly, a portal opened, pulling me into darkness. My vision blurred, and the last thing I saw was her icy gaze holding mine before everything went black.
Cold. An intense, biting cold was the first thing I felt. My body shivered as I struggled to wake, finding myself almost entirely buried beneath a thick layer of ice and snow. Panic surged as I clawed desperately upward, breaking through the snow to gasp for air. My breath came in sharp, ragged clouds, each exhale quickly vanishing into the frigid air.
I pushed myself up, realizing just how exposed I was. My clothes, thin and light, offered almost no protection against the numbing chill. I scanned my surroundings, and dread settled over me as I took in the barren, snow-covered landscape stretching endlessly in every direction—a vast, desolate wasteland of ice. The sky was a pale, eerie gray, and not a single tree or shelter was in sight. The cold seeped deeper, biting into my skin. At this rate, I'd freeze to death if I didn't act quickly.
Then, a sound. A distant howl broke the heavy silence, echoing through the frozen air. My heart skipped. I spun around, spotting a dark figure moving across the white expanse—a wolf, large and fierce, with a coat as white as the snow surrounding it. It wasn't a werewolf, but an arctic wolf, its blue eyes fixed intently on me. I almost mistake it as one.
I barely had a moment to react before the wolf lunged, snapping its jaws dangerously close. I threw myself sideways, just narrowly avoiding its teeth. As I scrambled to my feet, something strange happened; I realized that when I moved, the cold seemed to retreat, like it couldn't keep up with me as long as I was running.
I clenched my fists, teeth chattering, adrenaline kicking in. If I wanted to survive, I had to kill this wolf—it was my only chance.
But how was I going to kill the wolf? My mind raced as I kept my eyes locked on its icy blue gaze, watching every tense muscle in its powerful frame. I dared to glance around, searching for something—anything—that I could use as a weapon. All I saw was ice. Just endless, solid ice.
An idea flashed through my mind: I could try to use the ice itself. If I could gather enough focus, maybe I could manipulate it, shape it into sharp shards or blades. But it was only a theory; they'd barely trained us in magic, and forming anything with this much precision was beyond what I'd done before.
I inhaled deeply, trying to still my mind, ignoring the sharp pain of the cold. I reached out with a trembling hand, willing the ice around me to bend to my will. I focused harder, envisioning the ice sharpening into blades.
A snarl cut through my concentration. The wolf lunged, too fast for me to react. Its claws raked across my left arm, tearing through my thin clothing and leaving a deep gash. I cried out as pain exploded up my arm, bright red staining the snow at my feet. The sight of it—the shocking contrast of crimson on white—jolted me back into focus.
Clutching my bleeding arm, I forced myself to stand, the shock of pain sharpening my senses. I clenched my teeth. This time, I gathered every ounce of focus I had, forcing my will into the ice around me.
With a final push, I managed to shape a long, thin blade from the ice, its edges jagged but sharp. It glinted in the pale light, a shiver of power running through me as I gripped it tightly. But I barely had time to appreciate my success; the wolf's gaze was still fixed on me, a cold intelligence gleaming in its eyes as it circled, low and predatory.
My heart pounded. I swung the blade, but it was heavier than I expected. The ice slipped from my grip for a moment, and the wolf dodged easily, leaping aside with a quick bound. Frustrated, I steadied my grip and tried again, slashing through the air, but once more, it darted away, agile and untouchable.
I tried to anticipate its next move, watching its muscles tense before it leaped, but each time I lunged, the wolf was already a step ahead, its white coat blurring against the snow as it evaded me with infuriating ease. My swings became more frantic, my breaths shallow as I struggled to keep up. My inexperience was painfully obvious; each time I thought I was close, it slipped away.
Finally, it stopped, crouching a few feet away, watching me with a calm disdain, as if it knew I was tiring out. I was breathing heavily, the cold biting through my thin clothes, the ache in my wounded arm pulsing painfully. But I refused to back down. I tightened my grip on the ice blade and steadied myself, trying to calm the frustration that clouded my focus.
"I can do this," I whispered to myself, steeling my resolve. My breaths fogged the air as I kept my eyes locked on the wolf, my mind racing. If I could trap it, restrict its movement, then maybe—just maybe—I'd stand a chance.
The idea took shape in my mind like the ice around me. With a shivering hand, I stretched my arm toward the ground and focused, drawing from every bit of strength I had left. Slowly, the ice around us began to rise, forming walls in a tight triangular shape, closing in on the wolf with each passing moment. It growled, its eyes darting around, looking for an escape. But I made sure there was none.
The structure held firm. It was working! The wolf snapped at the icy walls, but they were too thick for it to break through. I took a steadying breath, raised my hands to the air, and called on the cold around me one last time.
A sharp, glinting blade began to form in the air above us, its edge jagged and deadly. I watched it take shape, feeling the energy coursing through me. This was it. I couldn't hesitate.
With a yell, I thrust my hand downward, and the blade shot through the air, piercing straight into the wolf's skull. A faint yelp echoed before the creature slumped, its white fur tainted with a bloom of red on the snow.
I staggered, breathless, as the icy walls began to dissolve. I had done it. I had killed the beast.
"Yes!" I shouted, my voice echoing into the frozen expanse before I collapsed to my knees, the snow cushioning my fall. The fight had worn me out completely, every muscle aching and shivering from the cold. "Thalia, I did it!" I called out, expecting her to appear, but there was only silence. The only sound was my own breath in the stillness.
Then, a faint whimper drifted on the wind—small, helpless howls. Puppies? My heart skipped, and I followed the sound to a small cave not far from where I stood. I peered inside and froze in shock. Huddled together were five tiny wolf pups, their little bodies trembling as they growled at me in weak, high-pitched voices. They were frightened, huddling close to each other, their small eyes glistening with confusion.
A cold realization washed over me. The wolf I'd killed was their mother.
As I stood there, stunned, a soft, glowing symbol appeared above each pup's head, slowly counting down. I recognized it as the mark of Thalia's enchantment—a timer. One minute, a single heartbeat for each glowing number, and then they would… I swallowed, feeling an ache in my chest.
"These are my targets?" I muttered, horrified. My voice came out shaky as I called, "They're just puppies, Thalia!" My words echoed, and the pups whimpered, scrambling to hide further back into the cave, sensing my fear.
I forced myself to breathe, my breaths shallow, forming wisps of snowy mist in the air. The countdown glowed above the pups, ticking closer to zero. I couldn't kill them. They were just pups, small and defenseless. But if I didn't… Thalia wouldn't take me on as her pupil. All of this training, my only chance to grow powerful, to seek revenge—it would be for nothing.
Her words echoed in my mind, her voice a blend of warmth and ice, "Your emotions… if you cannot balance them, they'll consume you. And once they do, you lose."
I clenched my fists. I needed to do this. To avenge my mom and dad, to make their deaths mean something, I needed to become powerful. That was the only way. The pups whimpered, huddling together, their small forms trembling in the dim light. Their fearful eyes, their cries… everything in me screamed to turn away. But I couldn't look away. I had to prove that I was capable. Strong.
I lowered my gaze, my voice barely more than a whisper. "To avenge Mom and Dad…" The words felt heavy as they left my lips, like an incantation binding me to what I was about to do.
Slowly, my breathing grew heavy, each inhale thick with icy air. My mind slipped into a numb, blank state, and I felt my fingers weaving themselves into motion, forming an icy blade in my grasp. It took shape almost on its own—a cold, sharp extension of my will.
I raised the blade, lowering it toward the first pup. Its innocent, dark eyes looked up at me, but I steeled myself, whispering silently, *At least… they won't suffer.*
I pierced the blade into its head, feeling a deep chill ripple across my skin as I completed the task. I moved through the motions as if detached, watching myself. With each pup, I felt something inside of me letting go, a slow release of warmth and hesitation, my own emotions slipping from my grasp.
But even in the cold aftermath, remnants of feeling lingered—pain, guilt, and a hollow ache. I knew, somehow, that if I wanted to survive, I'd have to let all of it go. To survive, to become powerful, I'd have to silence every last echo of that ache inside.