I pressed my lips together, forcing myself to focus on the blue light pulsing above me rather than the way Arthur's voice seemed to resonate in my bones. I was here to betray him, to gather intelligence that would eventually help to bring down his reign. I wasn't supposed to notice how his shoulders had squared beneath an invisible weight or how his eyes held depths of sorrow that no amount of power could fill.
But as the magical light danced across his features, transforming him from tyrant to something achingly human. Here, far from the trappings of court, Arthur seemedstripped bareof paranoia and politics. No longer the king I'd been trained to undermine, nor the tyrant Merlin had painted in my mind. He seemed—if only for this moment—like a man in communion with something ancient and sacred. A king not of conquest, but of covenant.
The blue light from my arch threw strange shadows across his face, catching the silver at his temples and the fine lines beneath his eyes. He looked older. Not in years—but inweight.And, disturbingly, I felt a sudden and irrational longing—to go to him, to run my fingers through his hair, to whisper that everything would be all right.
Where that thought came from, I couldn’t say.
"The Shadow Trial exists for a single purpose—to ensure that those who join my Round Table understand the darkness they carry within—before they wield power in my name."
He gestured toward the glowing archways. "Beyond these thresholds lies a realm where shadow and substance merge. Where your shadow self dwells. Where your darkest desires whisper your name. Where your deepest failures rise like revenants to confront you, and the lies and secrets you keep from yourself will be known."
His gaze swept across our faces, and when it landed on mine, it stayed there—too long.
"What awaits each of you is different." He continued to stare right at me as he said the words. "But the truth is the same:A reckoning with the self you’ve tried hardest tobury."
My throat tightened. Around me, the other candidates shifted uneasily. Only Galahad stood still, his face calm, eyes shining with eager determination.
"You will enter your archway one by one," Mordred intoned, then turned to his right and gave Galahad a single nod.
Without hesitation, Galahad stepped forward. Shoulders squared, chin lifted, he marched as though heading not into peril but into glory. A brilliant red light flared around him, searing the air—then swallowed him whole. When it faded, he was gone. Only the shimmer of the portal remained.
The others followed in turn.
Kay entered with a scoffing breath, his posture loose, his confidence loud. Agravaine lingered at the edge of his archway, eyes narrowing with wary calculation before he crossed into the violet glow. Percival paused longest, fingers sketching a protective charm across his chest as his lips moved in silent prayer. Then the amber light consumed him. I hoped he would return successful. Of all the knights here, he deserved victory the most. He was the best of us and the closest thing to a friend I had.
One by one, the chamber emptied.
And then it was just me—standing alone beneath my pulsing arch of midnight blue, while Arthur, Mordred, and Lance watched in silence.
"Lioran," Arthur said, his voice cutting clean through the air. There was something in his tone I couldn’t quite name—curiosity, perhaps, or caution. "You’ve surprised me throughout these trials, and I find myself hoping you overcome whatever awaits you on the other side of your archway."
"Thank you, my king."
Mordred gestured toward the threshold. "Your portal awaits, Sir Lioran. Face your shadows with courage—and with honesty."
Lance caught my eye as I took a step forward. "Remember, the shadow can only use against you what already exists within you. Acknowledge it. Don’t fight it blindly. That’s how you find your way back."
I nodded once. My heart clenched at the tenderness in his gaze—his soft smile. It was a look full of silent meaning, of unspoken promises neither of us dared to name. In that moment, I wondered if he could sense how afraid I was—not just of what I might find within this shadow self, but of what I mightbecomeonce I faced it.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
-GUIN-
The Shadow Trial
Steeling myself with a deep breath that did little to quiet my racing pulse, I stepped toward the shimmering threshold.
The instant I hit the archway, I felt my magic recoil—straining and shivering against the portal’s own magical force—Merlin's signature threaded through it, unmistakable. Powerful, it wound through the portal's construction like silver veins through stone. But twisted within those familiar threads was something else entirely. Something colder. Hungrier.
Mordred's magic.
Where Merlin's power flowed like water—natural, elemental, bound to the earth and sky—this other force felt sterile. Contained. A violation of the natural order dressed up in precise geometric patterns and scholarly theory. Not an innate power flowing from bloodline and bone like Merlin's, but a crafted power—something methodically learned through years of meticulous study, built layer on careful layer throughscholarly discipline rather than born from the wild, untamed forces that shaped Merlin's magic.
The two magics collided within the portal's framework, old battling new, creation wrestling control. My own power responded instinctively, recognizing Merlin's touch while recoiling from Mordred's artificial constructs. Ice crystallized along my fingertips as the portal's energies scraped against mine, testing, probing, searching for weaknesses.
Sweat beaded at my temples despite the sudden chill, and I could feel The Draught of Shifting Sight fighting against whatever magic was attempting to break through it. The draught was something Merlin had brewed from crushed dusk-lotus petals, dreamwater, and a suspended drop of illusion. It was meant to split perception into layers—I would see the trial’s true form… while the external layer—what Arthur and Mordred saw—would reveal an acceptable performance.
Not only had I drunk the draught, but I was also wearing The Ember of Forgetting, a tiny cinder from a magical fire Merlin placed in a locket that was now dangling around my neck. Before the trial, I'd rubbed the ember between my fingers, releasing a faint glowing dust. The dust masked my thoughts by burning them away the instant they formed, so no one would be able to see or sense any revelations I might discover in this trial.
