Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One)

by Julian Saheed

The blade swung across the middle of the thin corridor and Christill felt its razor tip brush the top of his head. He came up from the roll just in time to dodge the next sweeping trap. The entire corridor was a tangle of blades that swung out at angles, threatening to cut him apart.

  Christill leapt past the last blade and fell hard upon the stone door at the corridor's end. The perspiration dripped rapidly off his body and he struggled for breath. No normal man could have made it through that corridor. It was Nyrune's magic that had allowed him to see the movement of the blades before they had reached him.

  Since entering the complex he had fought off terrifying phantoms, made his way through every trap and obstacle imaginable and been forced to use every single thing that he had learnt over the past weeks. And now he knew that he was running out of time.

  Christill quickly pushed in the door and, as soon as he did, was assaulted by a wave of heat that burst through the opening. He raised his hand in front of his head, blocking out the sweltering air, and bolted inside. Christill came to a skidding stop and watched in horror as the dirt that he had stirred fell away into the nothingness of a deep chasm. He struggle for breath as he saw that similar rifts spread out all around him. From their depths rose a tempest of fire that filled the room with noxious smoke.

  The expansive room he had entered was even worse than the last. It was divided into platforms of pale stone, separated in some cases by great distances, and in between each of them a wall of searing flames blocked Christill's passage. Through the roaring blaze he made out the door on the other side of the room and his spirits rose. That had to be the exit. The beautiful iron door was split in two and held a delicate hourglass inside of it. The sand in the glass had almost finished falling.

  He was not going to fail.

  The fire parted instantly as Christill assaulted it with all of his might. The magic spewed from his hands turning to ice and water and he leapt from one platform to the next, trying with all his might to reach the door before his time ran out. The ground trembled beneath his steps and the fire snaked out of his path, as though fearing his wrath. He could feel the magic of his goddess taking control of his body. It was only a few more steps until he reached the door.

  Then from his left he heard a familiar voice cry out.

  "Help me!" it called out desperately.

  Christill turned. Lying on a distant chunk of stone, in the midst of a furious ring of fire, was Hilth. Christill could see from the Karmanian's expression that he was in great pain. A battle of emotions tore at Christill's mind. Time was running out. If he did not reach the exit before the last grain of sand had fallen, he would fail. But Hilth was injured and in danger. He looked to the hourglass then back at Hilth, who was rolling around in anguish, burn marks covering his body. If he went to Hilth's aid he would surely fail, but if he did not help, what kind of a disciple would he make? He finally let out a curse and headed for Hilth, using his powers to clear the way.

  Once he had fought his way through the flames, Christill reached down and studied Hilth's wounds. "Can you walk?" he screamed, over the roar of the fire.

  Hilth shook his head.

  Christill used what little strength remained to lift the heavy youth onto his shoulders, then made his way inch by inch to the edge of the platform. Sweat, a mixture of the heat and strain, covered his body to such an extent that he found steam rising from his bulk. He managed to reach one hand out in front of himself and sent forth a stream of ice that parted the fire. Then, with great effort, Christill surround the two of them in green mist and carried them over the chasm. Flames licked at their bodies and when he landed on the final platform, his body was marred with several viscous burns. Despite the excruciating pain and the heavy burden of Hilth's incapacitated body, Christill trudged onwards.

  After what seemed an eternity he reached the door. Christill cursed when he saw that his time had run out, but pushed aside his anger. He had done what was right and if the Elders did not see that, he wanted no part in this Academy.

  "Hurry, please!" Hilth forced out.

  Christill pushed open the door and was bathed in the cool wind from outside. He quickly brought Hilth outside and lay him on the ground. As the door to the training ground shut behind him, he realised that the rest of the class was standing before him. Christill then gasped when he saw Hilth standing at the forefront of the group, perfectly healthy and with a thick grin on his face. He quickly looked down to find that the body he had carried out of the fiery chamber was gone.

  "An illusion," explained Velski, as she stepped from the midst of the students.

  "Then I risked my life and failed for nothing," blurted Christill.

  "No Christill, you passed," replied Velski with a laugh.