Inside the super dark, endless space that was his own little world, Adam sat with his legs crossed, like he was meditating. His eyes were closed, and he was concentrating really hard.
Even though he was stuck inside Prince Eric's body like a prisoner, his mind could reach out.
He felt connected to Eric, like through an invisible string, and could see and hear everything Eric did, almost like being a ghost watching over his shoulder.
It was frustrating not being able to do anything himself, but it was his only way to see the outside world.
He felt the hard stone floor under Eric's boots as the prince walked down a long, echoing hallway. Every step sounded loud, bouncing off the tall stone walls.
Old pictures made of thread, called tapestries, hung on the walls showing old fights and kings from long ago.
The air felt a little cold and smelled like old dust. Finally, the hallway opened up into a gigantic training area outside.
Sunlight poured down, making the huge space bright after the dim hallway. The ground was made of big, shiny stone tiles that reflected the light, making the area feel even bigger than it was.
Huge stone walls went way up high all around, like a giant sports stadium. Looking up, Adam could see through Eric's eyes that thousands and thousands of people were sitting in rows of seats, packed in tightly, all looking down and waiting.
Eric paused right at the entrance, looking a bit overwhelmed by the huge place and all the people.
A line of soldiers in shiny armor stood near the giant gate. They immediately stood straighter when they saw him.
They knew who he was – even if people whispered about him, he was still a prince. They bowed their heads respectfully, all moving together perfectly. Without saying a word, they stepped aside, letting him pass into the arena.
Eric swallowed hard. It felt like there was a lump in his throat. He made himself walk forward, out of the shadows and into the bright sunlight where everyone could see him.
He tried to keep his face looking calm, like a prince should, but Adam could feel his hands shaking just a little bit, and his palms were getting sweaty.
Eric's heart was pounding like crazy inside his chest, like a drum beating super fast, even though he looked calm on the outside.
From his secret spot inside Eric, Adam watched everything. He felt Eric's nervousness and the heavy feeling of everyone watching him. Looking up through Eric's eyes, Adam scanned the huge crowd.
They were a mix of bright colors – fancy nobles in rich clothes, merchants in nice outfits, and regular people way up high in the cheap seats. A low buzz of talking filled the air, like thousands of bees humming all at once. You could feel the excitement and nervousness in the air.
Hundreds of nobles sat in the good seats down low. They wore expensive robes in deep reds, blues, and greens, with sparkly jewels and fancy designs.
They leaned close to each other, whispering behind their hands, their eyes flicking over to Eric as he walked to the center of the field. Adam's connection let him pick up bits of what they were saying, little waves of judgment and gossip washing over Eric.
"Isn't that Prince Erik?"
"Yeah, the third one. Today's his big trial, right?"
"I heard he has no talent at all, unlike his amazing brothers."
"It's kind of sad, really. Such a letdown for the King."
"Maybe he'll surprise us? Probably not, though."
"They're probably just doing this so they have an excuse to kick him out."
"Still, maybe we'll see someone amazing today! Like the First Prince was!"
The whispers felt like tiny pinpricks against Eric's skin. He clenched his jaw and tried hard to ignore them, not wanting them to mess him up.
He kept his eyes locked straight ahead, on the very center spot of the huge arena floor. That was the place where his whole future would be decided very soon. If he failed here, he'd lose everything.
From his hidden viewpoint, Adam took everything in – the crowd, the feeling in the air, the tension.
Because he was a spirit, he noticed tiny things, like the mean look a noble lady tried to hide, or the calculating way a merchant watched Eric.
But then his attention focused on one special section of the stadium seats. It was higher up than the others and looked extra fancy.
It was a special balcony, decorated with flowing gold flags showing the royal family's symbol – a lion and a snake twisted together. Shiny wooden railings gleamed, and comfy-looking chairs were set up there.
Standing guard were tough-looking soldiers in special silver armor. They were the Royal Knights, the best guards in the kingdom. This fancy box was only for the most important people: the royal family.
And they were all there. Sitting in the middle, on a chair that looked like a small throne, was the King himself, King Noor IV. Next to him sat his two older sons – the First Prince, Raven, looking cool and confident in a military-style outfit, with his hand resting on his sword; and the Second Prince, Leonard, wearing fancy magician robes, looking calm and maybe a little bored.
Next to the King sat the Queen, Eric's mom. She looked royal and beautiful, but Adam could see sadness in her eyes as she watched her youngest son walk into the arena. The King looked serious and powerful, even just sitting there.
He didn't move, and his face was hard to read, but you could feel his authority.
When Eric reached the center spot, he stopped and looked up at the royal balcony, searching for his family.
He could see their faces better now. His brothers looked disappointed – Raven maybe looked a little impatient, and Leonard just looked uninterested. His mother looked worried and sad; she gave him a tiny little nod, trying to encourage him, but she looked really anxious.
But it was his father's eyes that hurt the most. King Noor IV stared down at him, and his look was freezing cold. He looked like he was judging Eric, like Eric was just a thing to be measured, not his son. There was no pride, no warmth, nothing fatherly in his eyes at all.
Eric quickly looked down, bowing his head a little bit. He couldn't stand looking at his father's cold eyes anymore. He felt guilty and ashamed, like he was always letting everyone down. It felt heavy on his chest, making it hard to breathe right.
Meanwhile, deep inside Eric, hidden in his dark world, Adam saw all of this happen through Eric's eyes.
He felt the sting of the King's coldness and the weight of everyone judging Eric. But Adam himself didn't feel sad. Instead, a thoughtful smile spread across his face.
"Interesting," Adam mumbled quietly, just to himself. "Even though I'm trapped inside this weak kid, sealed away… I can still feel the energy around me. I can sense the power coming off some of these people… the King, the brothers, some of those knights… even the magic built into the stadium walls. Very interesting."
He felt a strange feeling inside him – not hunger for food, but hunger for something else. Hunger for power, for freedom.
He didn't just want to escape; maybe he wanted to take over this world that looked down on Eric so much. A little spark of ambition started to burn inside him. Why should powerful people treat others this way?
Back on the sunny arena floor, Eric felt a strong hand touch his shoulder. He looked up and saw Roald, his loyal trainer, standing beside him.
Roald had walked with him this far, being a silent support against all the pressure.
Roald didn't say anything, but his eyes, visible under his helmet, seemed to say, You can do this. Be brave. He gave Eric's shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping back.
Eric nodded back weakly, feeling a little bit stronger because Roald believed in him. He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm his pounding heart.
Then, without saying anything else, he gathered all his courage and stepped forward into the very center of the arena, all alone.
A loud noise went up from the huge crowd. It wasn't just cheering; it was a mix of sounds – excited shouts, surprised gasps, and thousands of people murmuring together. Everyone was watching him. Judging him. Waiting to see what would happen.
Right away, another soldier in heavy armor walked towards Eric.
This guard carried a large tray covered in soft velvet cloth. Lying neatly on the tray were different kinds of weapons – shiny swords, sharp axes, long spears, curved daggers, and even a big heavy hammer. They all looked well-made and dangerous.
"Lord Eric," the guard said respectfully, stopping in front of him and holding out the tray. "By tradition, you must choose your weapon for the trial."
Eric looked at all the weapons. He looked at the big axe, then the pointy spear. He quickly glanced at Roald, who stood nearby looking serious, not giving any hints. Eric took another slow breath, trying to think clearly.
Then, he reached out his hand. He didn't pick the biggest weapon or the fanciest one.
He chose a simple-looking sword. The handle was plain, wrapped in old leather so he could hold it tight. But the metal blade looked really sharp and caught the sunlight.
As he picked it up, he thought he saw a faint blue light flicker around the blade for just a second. It felt… good in his hand. Not too heavy, not too light. Almost like it belonged there, but he didn't know why.
The guard saw his choice, bowed his head, and walked away, leaving Eric alone again with the sword in his hand.
Just then, way up in the royal balcony, an old man sitting near the King raised his hand. He wore fancy robes that showed he was important, and he had a long white beard.
Even though he was old, he sat up straight, and his eyes looked sharp and smart. Just him raising his hand made the noisy crowd start to quiet down.
Everyone knew who he was: Grand Chancellor Varn, the King's most trusted advisor for many years, and basically the second most powerful person in the kingdom.
His voice, even though it sounded old, was strong and clear. It echoed across the whole stadium, thanks to some magic in the walls, so everyone could hear him easily.
"Let the Trial… begin!"
His words seemed to hang in the air for a moment. As soon as he said it, another man walked into the arena from a side entrance. He stood across from Eric, maybe thirty steps away.
This man was clearly a warrior. He wore the red and gold uniform of the kingdom's best soldiers, the Royal Knights.
He was tall and muscular and looked very confident. He held a sword similar to the one Eric chose. He wasn't wearing a helmet, so Eric could see his serious, focused face.
The knight took a long, deep breath and stood up even taller. Then, he shouted, his voice booming across the now quiet stadium. His words sounded very formal and important.
"This special trial was created by our great ancestors! It's not just a game! It's here to test if people are truly worthy to inherit the power and responsibility of our great kingdom of Alinor!"
His voice bounced off the walls, making sure everyone heard and understood how serious this was. Everyone in the crowd, from the richest noble to the poorest person, listened carefully.
"Through hard challenges! Through pain! Through fighting that shows who you really are deep down! Through fear that tests how strong your spirit is – this is how you will be judged! Not by your fancy title! Not because you were born royal! But by your strength! Your courage! Your determination to keep going!"
He dramatically lifted up a special, fancy sword he was carrying – it looked more for ceremonies than fighting – and pointed it down at the ground between himself and Eric.
"With permission from His Majesty, King Noor the Fourth, I now declare the Trial of Worthiness… officially started!"
Everyone in the crowd held their breath. It was completely silent now, buzzing with excitement.
Eric stood still for a second, holding his sword so tight his knuckles turned white. His heart was pounding like drums inside his chest, loud in his own ears. But he forced himself to look straight at the knight standing opposite him.
His own golden eyes, even though they showed fear, stayed steady. He wouldn't back down before it even started.
Back in his hidden world, the dark space inside Eric, Adam narrowed his eyes. He was focused completely on what was happening outside.
He felt Eric's burst of adrenaline, the tension filling the stadium, and the weight of all those people watching.
"Okay," Adam whispered in the darkness, his voice low and thoughtful. "Here we go. Let's see what this kid, Prince Eric, can actually do by himself…"