Chapter 4
The Six Pillars
The messenger had barely left Ashvale when news traveled like wildfire. Across the lands, whispers spoke of the Decennial Tournament, of Eclipse Ground, and of the nine camps that would converge there.
Emberveil Camp
Rose from the volcanic highlands, where the sky was often red with smoke. Sparks danced across the training grounds as students sparred with flaming swords and controlled infernos.
Master Kaelis, a wiry man with flame-touched hair, observed quietly, his eyes glowing faintly in dim light.
"Discipline the fire," he murmured. "Let it obey your hand, not consume it."
Captain Veyra, young and passionate, swung her blazing sword in wide arcs. Every strike scorched the air, leaving trails of heat behind. She smiled at nothing, confident that no one could match Emberveil's fury.
Moonspire Academy
Moonspire perched high in jagged cliffs, hidden in the mist. Students moved silently, vanishing into shadows at a glance.
Selene, draped in silver robes, rarely raised her voice. Her students knew instinctively what she wanted.
Captain Darius, masked and silent, appeared behind trainees as if born from darkness itself. One moment present, the next gone. "Strike where no one sees," he whispered, "and leave nothing behind."
Skyreach Camp
clung to the jagged cliffs above the clouds. Students leapt from platforms, riding gusts of wind, blades spinning in perfect arcs while floating mid-air.
Master Aerion raised his staff, directing currents with ease. "Control the air. Become one with it. The wind obeys the confident."
Captain Zephyr streaked past, blades gleaming in the sun, so fast that even seasoned students had to strain to track him. "Too slow," he said, smirking, "and the wind will leave you behind."
Ironclad Bastion
Ironclad Bastion sprawled across a plateau of gray stone. Massive walls rose from the earth, training grounds filled with young soldiers lifting heavy shields and dragging oversized armor plates.
Master Garrick's voice rumbled over the clanging of metal: "Your shield is your soul. Break it, and all is lost. Hold it firm, or fall."
Captain Thane, broad-shouldered and unyielding, moved through formations like a living fortress, teaching students that defense could be as lethal as offense
Deeproot Enclave
Deeproot Enclave lay in the forested valleys, where the ground moved beneath the students' feet. Earth rose, cracked, and shifted at their command. Creatures bound to the land trained alongside them—giant wolves, armadillo-like beasts, and horned elk.
Master Taren's voice was calm, almost musical: "The earth listens. Respect it, and it will fight with you. Defy it, and it will crush you."
Captain Sylva guided her students in perfect synchronization with their beasts. Every strike of claw or hoof became part of the battle, and every motion of her staff seemed to flow from the land itself.
Galehaven Camp
Galehaven was a storm waiting to erupt. Students sprinted across jagged plains, dodging lightning strikes they summoned themselves, blades flickering in arcs of electricity.
Master Aric raised his hands, eyes glinting with stormlight. "Quickness is survival. Faster than your opponent, faster than fear."
Captain Lys darted through the field, leaving trails of crackling energy behind her. "The world is a battlefield," she said, voice sharp, "and the lightning does not wait for the slow."
As the messenger finished his report, all camps were accounted for. The Decennial Tournament would see nine camps converge.
Stormhold: precision, discipline, and the cold edge of perfection.
Ashvale: survival, endurance, and the silent chaos of strength.
Stonefist: raw power, honor, and unbreakable will.
Emberveil: fire and fury.
Moonspire: shadows and secrets.
Ironclad Bastion: shields and steadfastness.
Skyreach: wind and aerial grace.
Deeproot: earth and beast.
Galehaven: lightning and speed.
The stage was set.
The Eclipse Ground awaited.