Death to Power
Copyright© 2025 by TheSmartOne
Chapter 11: Start of the Trial
Clack. Clack. Clack.
The sound of hooves echoed steadily as a black carriage rumbled down a stone path. Two massive horses pulled it forward—both beasts pitch-black with glowing red eyes. The crest of the Warborns was etched into the side of the carriage, cold and proud.
Inside, Kaden sat in silence.
His chin rested lightly on the hilt of Reditha, the weight of the journey ahead pressing down on his shoulders. He was on his way to leave the Stronghold—for the first time in this new life—and beyond that, he would walk alone.
And across from him sat someone unexpected.
“Why are you even here if you won’t look at me? Let alone talk to me?” Kaden asked, irritated.
His sister, Daela, sat with her arms crossed, gaze turned to the window, her expression unreadable. She didn’t reply. Didn’t even flinch.
Kaden sighed and gave up.
He was already anxious—this was his first time outside the Stronghold walls since his rebirth. And he’d be alone. Completely alone.
To say he wasn’t afraid would be a lie.
He needed someone. Just someone to acknowledge him. To say something. But instead, he got Daela. Cold and distant.
He sighed again, more heavily.
What he didn’t realize ... was that Daela was silently panicking.
In Daela’s Mind
‘What do I say?’
‘Do I offer encouragement? A few kind words?’
‘Should I hug him? No—that’s too intimate.’
‘Maybe a handshake? No—that’s too cold.’
‘Ugh, it’s my brother. A hug’s not too intimate ... right?’
She hadn’t been prepared for this. Their parents hadn’t told anyone that Kaden was leaving so soon. She didn’t even get time to think about what to say.
I didn’t prepare anything!
She was literally freaking out internally, but on the outside, she remained stone-faced. Watching the empty blur of trees and buildings outside the window.
The journey continued in silence, the atmosphere thick with awkwardness.
Eventually, Kaden gave up on his sister entirely. He clutched Reditha close—it was the only thing that offered warmth now.
Soon the carriage came to a halt.
Outside the Stronghold, a vast sea of green stretched endlessly. Towering trees, thick underbrush, the wildness of the world.
Kaden stepped down. Behind him, Daela followed, still quiet.
He wore a simple black training tunic, the Warborn insignia on his chest. Slung over his shoulder was a small pack—just enough food and water to last a week. No more.
Reditha hung at his side.
After checking everything once more, he turned to leave.
“I’m going,” he said flatly, not expecting a reply.
He took a step. Then another.
But just before the third step—
“Be careful.”
A voice, soft and clear, broke the silence.
Kaden stopped.
“Don’t die,” Daela said, her red eyes glowing with fierce intensity.
And then—
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