The Circle of Claws was marked by rough stones arranged in a wide ring, their surfaces scarred from countless battles past. The warriors of Shadow Ridge surrounded the arena, their voices a low hum of anticipation as they watched Elara face the towering champion.
The champion bared his teeth in a savage grin, flexing thick arms wrapped in leather bracers. His weapon of choice was a heavy double-bladed axe, which he spun with effortless menace.
Elara tightened her grip on the Moonblade, feeling its steady thrum in her palm. She didn't have brute strength on her side—but she had speed, precision, and the blood of the Moonborn.
Selene raised her arm. "Begin."
The champion charged, the ground trembling beneath his boots. Elara dodged his first wild swing, the blade of his axe slicing the air where her head had just been. She spun low, her own blade flashing upward, grazing his side.
A roar of pain and anger erupted from the man's throat.
He swung again, faster this time. Elara leapt back, her heart hammering. Every move had to be calculated. One misstep, and that axe would tear through her like paper.
Kael stood at the edge of the ring, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. He trusted her, but every instinct in him screamed to intervene.
Elara didn't falter. She let the Moonblade guide her, flowing like water around the champion's brutal attacks. A memory stirred within her—her mother's voice, once soft and strong:
"Strength isn't just force, Elara. True strength is knowing when to move, when to strike, and when to endure."
The champion lunged again, overextending in his rage.
Elara saw her chance.
With a cry that echoed off the cliffs, she ducked beneath his swing and drove the Moonblade up, slicing deep across his exposed side. The champion stumbled, blood blooming bright against his armor.
Before he could recover, Elara pressed the attack—swift and relentless. She danced around him, striking again and again, until finally, with a shuddering growl, he fell to his knees.
The courtyard fell into stunned silence.
Elara lowered her blade, chest heaving. She locked eyes with Selene, refusing to show weakness.
Selene stepped forward slowly, her mismatched eyes gleaming with something like respect.
"The Moonborn has earned her voice," she said, her words ringing across the arena. "Shadow Ridge will hear her."
A howl of approval broke from the warriors, and Kael's face lit with pride and fierce love.
As Elara stood in the circle of stone, victorious, she knew this was only the beginning. One by one, she would forge the future she believed in—until no darkness could touch it.