my heart starts to race as i look around me and see the diverse crowd of species and races each with their own set of skills and weapons. "okay i can do this" i whispered to myself as the starting bell rings! a sea of roars and cheers echo through the coliseum as everyone starts to run and i start to sprint with them! my tail swings behind me as i weave through the maze. i can feel the magic in the air as the spells are casted around me. i can see the shimmer of arcane energy as the first few runners hit walls that pops up in their way.
I leap over a wooden hurdle, the scythe on my back glinting in the sun as I clear it with ease. My muscles burn, but I push on, each step carrying me closer to my goal. The walls of the maze seem to shift and move, designed to disorient and challenge us. I focus on the shadows cast by the moving structures, using my affinity to navigate the ever-changing path. The sound of clashing steel and the roars of beasts fill the air, a cacophony that only serves to drive me forward.
As I dodge and weave through the maze, I catch glimpses of the other participants. Some stumble and fall, while others showcase their skills with grace and finesse. There's a young elf, her bow a blur as she vaults over obstacles, her arrows finding their marks in the wooden barriers. A burly orc wields a massive hammer, his every step shaking the ground as he barrels through. A nimble aarakocra with feathered wings flutters from rooftop to rooftop, her talons gripping the wooden beams as she overtakes those below her.
The air above us is a chaotic dance of spells and arrows, a dazzling display of color and light. Magic missiles streak through the air like stars, homing in on those who dare to take to the skies. A gust of wind sends a flurry of paper-thin shurikens spiraling downwards, a silent storm of death aimed at those who dare to ascend. Above it all, a dragonkin with scales that glint like emeralds hovers, her eyes scanning the battlefield with the intensity of a predator.
As I watch the spectacle unfold, my instincts scream at me to stay low. The dragonkin, known for her fiery temper and adherence to the rules, will not hesitate to attack anyone who attempts to cheat the system. Her wings beat the air, creating a downdraft that sends dust and debris swirling around us, making the already challenging maze even more treacherous. The ground beneath us rumbles with the thunderous echo of her roars, a warning to all who dare to challenge the integrity of the test.
I arrive at a chamber of the maze that's more akin to a room, with walls soaring high into the sky, disappearing into the shadows above. Moving platforms of all sizes and shapes float in the air, a chaotic dance of wood and steel that seems to have no rhythm or reason. Some are stationary, while others zip back and forth with a speed that defies logic. A handful of test takers are scattered across these floating stages, some leaping with grace, others barely hanging on for dear life.
I spot an opening to the center, but it's blocked by a wall of flaming arcane energy. The heat is intense, and the flames lick at the air with a ferocious hunger. I consider my options, knowing that a direct approach isn't always the best in such situations. The scent of burning wood fills my nostrils, mixing with the metallic tang of magic. The crowd roars as someone fails the obstacle, their leather band glowing a stark red before they vanish, no doubt teleported back to the entrance.
Taking a deep breath, I focus my shadow affinity, willing the darkness to coalesce around me. The air grows colder, and the flames seem to recoil slightly, giving me the opening I need. With a burst of speed, I sprint toward the wall, the shadows of the maze stretching and twisting around me. As I leap, I feel the heat of the flames on my fur, but the shadowy aura I've wrapped around myself acts like a shield, dulling the pain.
In mid-air, I extend my claws, digging into the wood of a passing platform. The scent of singeing fur fills my nose as I swing my legs around, using my momentum to propel myself further. The crowd below gasps as I narrowly avoid a fiery explosion, the heat washing over me like a wave of scorching water. I land on the next platform with a thud, the wood groaning beneath my weight. The shadows cling to me like a second skin, providing a small measure of relief from the intense heat. "hiissss.... need to keep moving!" and i jump from one platform to the next using the momentum of any moving platforms to propel me closer to the ending.
My heart is racing, my breath coming in short gasps as I reach the center of the maze. The crowd goes wild as the first hundred or so of us converge on the final stretch. The air is thick with anticipation and the smell of burnt wood and sweat. The dragonkin in the sky above us circles closer, her emerald eyes watching us with a fierce intensity.
The final maze is unlike anything I've seen before. It's a deep pit, the bottom lost in darkness, filled with spikes that glint in the light of the floating torches that line the walls. The few platforms that offer any semblance of safety are scattered and unstable, moving erratically as if alive with some malevolent intent. The poles with ropes connecting them seem like the only way across, but even they are not without danger. Some have spikes jutting out at odd angles, waiting for the careless or unfortunate to impale themselves.
Unsheathing my scythe, I feel the familiar thrum of power as I tap it against the ground. The runes pulse with a dark energy, and the crowd's murmurs grow louder. Some of the participants glance over, their expressions a mix of awe and wariness. I can't blame them; a catfolk wielding a magical scythe is not a common sight, especially in the lower districts. I take a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. The weapon's power is a part of me, a piece of Guren's heart that he's entrusted to my keeping. I spin the scythe faster and faster, each revolution carving a path through the air. The shadows coalesce around me, their whispers a symphony of potential and might.
With a burst of speed born from the energy I've channeled, I leap to the first of the floating platforms. It tilts and wobbles under my weight, but I've anticipated its movement, my balance honed from years of practicing on the rooftops of District Twelve. The scythe's blade slices through the air, leaving a trail of shadow in its wake. Each leap is calculated, each landing precise, as I navigate the treacherous path. The crowd below gasps and cheers in a symphony of sound that fuels my adrenaline. Sweat forms a dark stain on my shirt, but I ignore it, focusing instead on the thrill of the moment.
My eyes spot a rope dangling from a wooden beam, and without hesitation, I swing the staff of my scythe like a grappling hook. The rope wraps around it, and with a flick of my wrist, I send the blade back to my side, the weapon now serving as a makeshift zipline. The world zooms past me as I zip across the pit, the wind rushing through my fur. The dragonkin above lets out an approving roar, the sound reverberating in the enclosed space. The crowd below goes wild, and I can't help but feel a thrill of victory. But the test isn't over yet.
As I reach the other side, I notice the rope is attached to a pivot point. With a twirl of the staff, I send myself hurtling back towards the center pole, my body spinning in a graceful arc. The other test takers are on the move too, some using spells to levitate or manipulate the environment to their advantage, while others are more traditional, using their strength and agility to make daring leaps. I see a couple of participants eyeing me warily, no doubt wondering if the catfolk with the glowing scythe is going to be their next target.
The air is charged with tension and the smell of burnt magic as a few contestants try to blast their way through the obstacles, only to have their spells deflected by the maze's protective barriers. A couple of them land with a thud, their leather bands glowing red before they vanish, disqualified from the test. I can't help but feel a smug satisfaction at my decision to rely on my own skills rather than flashy magic. The crowd below has gone silent, their collective breath held as we approach the final stretch.