Rae van Daleon – The Roots of the Storm
by Lea von Löwenstein
Chapter 48: Rising Challenges
The following days at the new Scola proved to be an unrelenting gauntlet of challenges. Each dawn began with the sharp clang of the barracks bell, summoning the novices to the central yard where Commissar Varn and Drill Instructor Halek awaited with their ever-critical eyes. Discipline and endurance were tested daily, leaving no room for mistakes—or excuses.
The Tower of Resolve
One morning, the novices were led to a massive structure at the edge of the Scola grounds, a towering labyrinth of steel platforms, ladders, and narrow ledges. The Tower of Resolve, as Varn called it, was both a physical and psychological trial.
“You will ascend the tower as a team,” Varn explained, his voice cold. “At each level, you’ll face a challenge designed to test your coordination and resolve. Some of you will fail. Some of you may fall. Only those who reach the top together will succeed.”
Rae’s team exchanged glances, their unspoken bond reaffirmed with a single nod.
The climb began with relative ease, the first level requiring them to scale a series of ladders while avoiding swinging pendulums. Marcus led the way, his strength clearing obstacles for the others. Tyren followed closely, his cogitator scanning for patterns in the pendulums’ movements.
At the second level, the team was confronted with a narrow bridge spanning a yawning chasm. Celestine darted across first, her agility allowing her to leap between the shifting platforms. She secured a rope at the far end, enabling the others to cross more safely.
The third level introduced a series of automated turrets that fired low-energy bolts. Soren’s crossbow sang as he picked off the turrets one by one, providing cover for the others to advance. Rae stayed close to him, deflecting stray shots with her blade.
By the time they reached the final level, the team was battered and breathless. The final challenge was a logic puzzle embedded into a locked door. Tyren immediately knelt before the cogitator interface, his fingers flying over the keys.
“Hurry,” Marcus growled, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of additional traps.
“I’m working as fast as I can!” Tyren snapped, sweat dripping down his face.
The door hissed open just as a hidden timer triggered an alarm. They scrambled through, collapsing onto the platform at the tower’s summit.
Varn awaited them, his expression unreadable. “You made it,” he said simply. “Barely.”
But the faintest flicker of approval crossed his face as he turned and descended, leaving them to bask in their hard-earned victory.
Night Drills
As if the daily trials weren’t enough, the novices were subjected to surprise night drills. One such night, the barracks bell rang out at an ungodly hour, jolting the novices from their sleep. Drill Instructor Halek barked orders, herding them into the cold darkness of the training yard.
“You think the enemy waits for daylight?” he growled. “Chaos strikes when you’re weakest. Tonight, you’ll learn what it means to fight when every instinct tells you to rest.”
The novices were divided into squads and sent into a sprawling simulated combat zone. Fog machines and low lights created an eerie, oppressive atmosphere. Servo-skulls armed with stun emitters patrolled the area, hunting down anyone who failed to stay hidden.
Rae’s team moved like shadows through the maze of ruins. Celestine took point, her sharp eyes scanning for traps, while Marcus kept watch at the rear. Tyren’s cogitator hummed softly, mapping out the servo-skulls’ patrol routes.
“Two coming from the east,” Soren whispered, his crossbow trained on the approaching machines.
“Hold,” Rae murmured. “Let them pass.”
The servo-skulls hovered dangerously close, their emitters crackling faintly. The team remained motionless, their breaths shallow, until the machines veered away.
By the time they completed the drill, exhaustion weighed heavily on them, but their performance had been flawless. Halek grunted in approval. “Not bad. You’re learning.”
New Bonds, Old Tensions
Amid the grueling schedule, new friendships began to form. Some of the novices who had initially viewed Rae’s team with suspicion now gravitated toward them, drawn by their unwavering unity. Others, like Erik Krenz, continued to bristle with resentment, their envy fueling petty rivalries.
One afternoon, Krenz cornered Rae in the mess hall, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Still playing the hero, van Daleon? Or has the Inquisition come to collect their favorite pets?”
Rae didn’t flinch. “We’re all here for the same reason, Krenz. The enemy doesn’t care about your ego.”
Krenz sneered but stepped back as Marcus loomed behind Rae, his expression dark. “Move along,” Marcus rumbled, his tone leaving no room for argument.
A Glimpse of the Future
The week ended with a speech from Sister Verena in the chapel, her voice steady and resolute.
“The path you walk is not an easy one,” she said, her gaze sweeping over the assembled novices. “You will face horrors that defy comprehension, and you will be tempted to falter. But remember this: the Emperor’s light shines brightest in the darkest places. You are His instruments. You are His will.”
Her words lingered long after the novices returned to their barracks. Rae sat on her bunk, her blade resting across her lap. The weight of responsibility pressed down on her, but so did the resolve to carry it.
“We’ve made it this far,” Soren said quietly, breaking the silence. “We’ll make it all the way.”
Rae nodded. “Together.”
The trials ahead would only grow more challenging, but they were no longer the same novices who had first walked through the gates of the Scola. They were stronger now, forged in fire and bound by loyalty.
And they were ready for whatever came next.
