Rise of the Citadel (The Search for the Brights Book 2) by Aaron Thomas

his stomach, the smell of fresh
grass in his nose. The wind was calm again. He picked himself up and noticed
the sun was just rising over the trees. He had been there all night with his
face in the dirt. Because of his magic imbuements the burns on his skin had
lessened, but his legs and joints were all sore from the trials of the day
before. Without taking any time to revise his plan he closed the distance to
the wall and started climbing.
    It didn’t take
long for his second attempt to be thwarted. This time he was removed from the
wall before he was halfway up. When he hit the ground, he picked himself up and
dusted off, ignoring the pain. Again he jumped as hard as he could, but this
time the wind was ready and caught him mid flight, throwing him nearly all the
way to the fog wall. Kilen stood again and watched as the fog parted into a
narrow path.
    On the other
side of the fog was Kilen’s camp. The camp was only feet away; his food and
horse were within reach. The Elder Wizards were tempting him. He rebuked the
temptation and ran at full speed towards the rock.
    He jumped at
half the distance but was thrown directly to the ground just after his feet
left it. He pushed up from the ground just to be lifted and thrown back, again
towards the fog. He lay there being caressed by the breeze, facing an open path
to his camp. He wondered if this was the test, or if getting to the top of the
cliff was the test. Kilen remained on his stomach and crawled slowly to the
rock’s surface just as Gortus had him train on his first day. The wind could
gain no hold on him so close to the ground. He grabbed a handhold on the rock
wall with one hand and pulled himself up the rock’s surface.
    He had an idea
to change this game to his advantage. Kilen reached back and slammed a fist
into the stone. Rock broke away and his skin began to bleed, but he had made
his own hand hold. He pulled himself up and reached back to slam another fist
into the rock, only this time his arm went shoulder deep into a liquid stone
which hardened around his arm instantly. He tried to pull his arm free but it
was stuck inside the stone. He waited for any change in the stone to happen but
nothing did. The wind seemed to have stilled.
    Letting go of
his hold, he tried to swing again at the surface with his other arm and was met
again with liquid rock. Now, with both arms stuck in the side of the rock wall,
he moved his feet as close to his arms as possible. Kilen pushed his feet
against the wall as hard as he could. The stone started to crack between his
two arms, and with a burst of flying stone he was thrown back, again to the
wall of fog. The hole in the rock melted closed, as smooth as it had been
before.
    Kilen came to
the realization that they would not let him succeed in this task. He was sure
the Elder Wizards were trying to tell him to go home, but he knew he couldn’t.
The Wizards had to have been watching him, so instead of trying to come to
them, he decided to do what he had come there to do.
    “I know you can
hear me,” He said, nearly out of breath. “I can’t go home, I cannot leave
without delivering my message. King Atmos has sent me here on what he sees as
an impossible mission. He has sent me here to my death. If I am do die, then I
will die doing what I said I would do.
    “There is a war
starting at the border of the Earth and Fire Realms. King Atmos marches there
now to fight an army brought by the Fire Realm. He requests your assistance in
this battle. If you deny his request and do not march to war then it is me that
goes into the traitors bowls. If I leave here without pleading his request, it
is me that goes into the traitors bowls. If I do not return to him, it is my
sister that goes into the traitors bowls. I beg of you, please don’t make me
continue this test. Please let me plead the case of my king. Please reveal
yourself to me.”
    No voice
returned to answer his pleading. Kilen waited in silence until he had caught
his