[Skell]
"W-wait!" I raced to rise off the grass.
Karthwyn's eyes denied me before his mouth ever opened. But when it did…
"Earthen Gaol!" Karthwyn lifted a furious palm.
I fell. Or more accurately, the ground rose. In the blink of an eye I was surrounded up to my neck in a cone of rock. Instincts took over and I fought to move. But for as much as I wriggled and jerked, I couldn't even stir a pinky.
Only my head was left free. With it I saw the gaze of hundreds of failed applicants, and the Templars. I saw contempt. Fear. Astonishment. Even the rare face of sympathy. But the feeling of captivity truly set in when I saw that no one intended to do more than watch.
"Child…" spat Karthwyn, "of all the insolent, foolhardy acts I've witnessed over my tenure, entering the Sacred Ordeals with the very magic we oppose… That is without peer the worst."
Karthwyn's index finger twitched. Stifling pressure caved against my chest.
H-he could crush me like a grape… Urgh, I've gotta break out!
I hastily sorted through my options. My palm was forced against my leg by the stone, so Hand of Decay would sooner dust me than my prison. Chills ran down the length of my bones when I realized Shadow Form was equally useless. There wasn't a shadow underfoot for me to delve into.
The Commandant wasn't intent on giving me time to scheme. "Explain yourself. I find it likely you're a spy, or necromancer. Tell me. Or the answers will be wrung out of you."
"C-Commandant Karthwyn?" Merriline came warily to his side. "I um… I've met him before, and-"
"Silence!" he ordered. "Know him or not, you are not known for your discernment. I will unravel this child's identity. You will observe."
Merriline stopped in her tracks, bouncy eyes tripping to the ground. "Yes… yes sir."
…I'm not some kid. I almost let the objection reach my lips. But I had to play this smart. My arts wouldn't save me, and even if they could, it's not like a Commandant didn't have a hundred other ways to demolish me. Not to mention the legion of Templars at his beck and call. No. A magical escape just wasn't in the cards.
But then, that didn't rule out a mundane escape.
"Commandant Karthwyn," I wore false respect like a mask, "I… get your suspicions, but I just practice dark magic and that's where it ends. I'm not in league with anyone. I just mean to become a Templar to fight for the Order."
Karthwyn came closer, taking the measure of me. "I have seen through the lies of numberless necromancers, criminals, and turncoats. What makes you believe yours are any different?"
"…Because they aren't lies," My true voice seeped through and washed away the false respect.
They were more omissions than lies, but he knew I wasn't being truthful. Instead of persuasion, then… I'd play his game.
I lifted my head as much was possible in my prison. "And on the topic of lies, verify this for me: dark magic, I hear, isn't prohibited within the Order. And if that's true, then why hold me here? I passed fair and square."
There was no two ways about it; I was gambling with my life. But I couldn't help it. Karthwyn inspired hate in me - the same hate Hyland did. Their authority and influence? Just pedestals for mortal men to prop themselves upon and pretend to be something greater.
The Commandant narrowed malevolent eyes. "…I see you aren't particularly bright. Allow me to paint a picture: an ignorant boy waltzes into the Citadel for the first time and stands before me - life in the palm of my hands - with the gall to not merely believe he has the right to dispute with a Commandant, but also educate me on my own organization. Does that not sound like the most foolish damned thing you've ever heard?"
He didn't let me respond. "No? Comes as no surprise. After all, you are the ignorant boy. But I'll lower myself to the point of answering you."
Karthwyn looked to the bright sky overhead. "Some things in this world go unspoken. Yes, the ban of dark magic within the Templars has been lifted. But there's a reason practitioners of such abhorrent magic have never set foot in the Order since. The mantle - the privilege - of our Order, it is not intended for their sort. Where light endures, dark falters feebly. Where our justice provides order and stability, darkness propagates chaos and anarchy. The way one calls upon the elements is evidence enough of this. Pray tell, child. How do you summon your dark magics?"
"I…"
He had a point. At least when it came to how I called upon my arts. Sometimes my mind sank to dark places when magic was needed. The haunts of violence and hatred and defiance. Those were what made dark magic come easiest to me. So I stuck with them.
But to hold a light up to that part of me and have it exposed to so many? I didn't even have the ability to walk away. Judgmental gazes fell upon me by the hundreds.
My eyes couldn't bear the shame I was told to feel. They dropped to the rock encasing my body.
"That should prove well enough as my answer," Karthwyn stated pridefully, pacing around me. "You do not belong, dark mage. When I release you, leave and never return. Am I understood?"
Child. Dark mage… Undead.
Deep within the fear and humiliation brewed an older resentment. Even then, with my true identity hidden, the world had found a new way to look down on me - see me as lesser.
…To the Abyss with persuasion. To the Abyss with bringing up the rulebook. To the Abyss with what everyone thinks! If people want to stuff me into their convenient molds and lock me in with their stupid expectations, then, then…
Maybe I'll be exactly who they think I am.
"Know what?" I smiled. "You're right. The vilest things come to mind when I cast dark magic. Jealousy. Wrath. Anarchy. Utter havoc."
Faces dropped amongst the crowd. Even Karthwyn didn't expect that. His brows - shade, his whole face - creased into a tangle of wrinkles. And a part of me… a part of me liked that.
"So you drop the façade?" asked Karthwyn. "All the more reason to eject you from the Ordeals. I'll not allow the likes of you to taint the Citadel any longer."
"You're a Commandant. Banning an applicant for using a magic that scares you wouldn't just look bad on yourself, but on the Order too, wouldn't it? Every loser here today is gonna bring home the knowledge that this, this is how the Templars run things: preaching law, while taking it into their own hands when the mood strikes them. That something your superiors will be happy with?"
A bold move, even for me. At any moment Karthwyn could've decided my mouth wasn't worth listening to and silenced it forever. Sure, he'd look bad. But I'd be dead. Not exactly a winning trade.
Yet the only thing silenced was my better judgement. Spite and a dark sense of amusement were just so much louder, more compelling. I listened to them and became their mouthpiece. And drank up Karthwyn's reddening face like ambrosia.
"Wait, I get it…" I pretended to come upon an epiphany. "You're afraid. Afraid that a dark mage would triumph over your lousy Ordeals. And he might not just make a decent Templar… but a better one than you."
A distinct vein bulged at Karthwyn's forehead. His gauntlet shook. For a sober moment I feared I poked the dragon just a hair too much.
Then he exhaled. "…There is to be a change of plans."
A wave of his hand and the prison crumbled to pieces, dropping me to my feet. "Your words carry little weight. A warped dark mage is antithetical to the Templar way. Thus your failure is certain. Forget the preliminaries; I'll permit you to move on. Because there is value in you."
"What?" I stared him in the eyes.
"Until recently, the ban against dark mages has been held in place by reason and common sense. With it gone, there must be a new barrier to prevent the entry of your sort. You will be that barrier. Your laughable, spectacular failure will prove the perfect example to my Order as to why it should've never been torn down in the first place."
I balled my fists. "You really think I'll be your personal case study?"
He laughed briefly. "I'm certain of it. And if evidence that you are indeed an enemy of the Templars arises," his amusement vanished, "justice will be swiftly dealt."
Karthwyn turned away before I could think up a reply, and looked to his Templars. "Forgive the delay. Let us move on to our next order of business. Templars, prepare the winning applicants' descent."
That scum - thinks he can just treat me like an afterthought, or a tool to prove his stupid ideas? I stared daggers at the Commandant, even as he must've pretended not to notice. He'll see me for what I am.
Exactly what he fears most.
—————————————————————————————————
Cleaving the sky in two - as always - was the world's Ring. During brief slivers of daytime, the sun would slide past it's razor-edge and almost seem to stop and roost a moment.
That's when we knew it was noon.
And also when the lagging process of getting every applicant back to the field was over with. Not that I didn't get why. For as many people failed, a significant number still passed, and each one had to be carefully caught by Air Cushions at a slow enough pace not to overpressure the Templars - with the last few taking their sweet time to jump and coming out of the art with trembling hands and bone-white faces.
Of course, their eyes added to those needling me when I was found to be the "first" in the winner's group. Instead of turning my gaze away however, I made distance from the rest and stared right back. At everyone.
…'Til it was Niles' turn. I didn't see his face when he entered the growing group.
Next came Hyland. I went right back to glaring.
Then came the sorting of those who didn't actually make it in time. Plenty scaled to the Tower's upper reaches. But close is worlds away from victory, to the Order. They were plucked out and pointed to the building horde of dour faces across from us.
One of the last to be called out, a hulking woman as wide as Karthwyn's frame-magnifying armor in her woolen tunic, stopped halfway to the loser's group. Something in her purple eyes changed, and she looked to the Commandant, Merriline, and the then-returned Valérie.
"…No. No." She shook her head. "I've come too bleedin' far to lose at the first challenge! Not when the rules're as warped as they are!"
"…Pardon?" asked Valérie, the one Templar present that could claim to be larger.
The jade-haired woman stepped brazenly to the Ordeal's overseers. "Get real. Letting some go before others? In a race? How's that strike you as fair? If I had just a few more seconds, I would've been at the peak with the rest of 'em! But you morons stuck me in the back!"
Merriline puffed. "There's always the one…"
The Warden chewed on her words a moment. "I understand your complaints. But the design of the preliminaries is deliberate."
"You mean to say you meant to screw over the folks in the back!?" the applicant crossed muscular arms and laughed unnervingly. "Well Abyss, why do that?"
Valérie didn't blink. "We expect a certain standard from each applicant. This preliminary - compared to the following Ordeals - is but the lowest. If a matter of seconds prevents you from conquering the Tower of Stone, then I regret to say that further, greater challenges would only fruitlessly risk your health."
"Sun above!" said the applicant. "I've never heard anyone speak such rubbish! Climbing some rocks and killing undead couldn't be more different. Abyss, look!" she pointed to a scar on her weathered shoulder. "See this? Husk claw marks. I've dealt with one before. Guess which of us came out still kicking!?"
"S-she's right!" shouted a spectacled man from the losing crowd. "Do you know how hard some of us worked to get here? H-how far we traveled?"
"Yeah!" added an olive-skinned woman. "I spent every round to my name simply setting foot in the capital! We came to work for you, and you turn us away!?"
Dissent spread amongst the crowd of hundreds. The muscular applicant sparked something, and by the glint in her eye, not by accident. Other Templars crept fingers to their weapons. Karthwyn, oddly enough, kept a watchful silence.
"Just listen, guys!" Merriline thrust her tiny hands outward. "If we let in a bunch of people who aren't tough enough, they'll get hurt! And morale will drop! And-"
"Morale?" scoffed the muscular woman. "I've dreamt since I was a wee girl of bein' one of you. What morale can you brag about if you won't take people like us with fire in our hearts!?"
She turned to the crowd and threw up a fist. "Give us one more chance!" she chanted, and repeated.
At first, eyes turned to others. But voices began to sprout from the crowd, blossoming into a full-on mantra. Nearly half of them contributed. That was enough to really make me wonder if they'd get their way.
The woman turned back to the Templars, a smile over her earlier frustration. "One more chance! One more chance! One more-"
Deafening thunder sent tremors through the earth and air and jostled every bone in my body, smothering all other noise. People on both sides jumped. Palms snapped to ears. And just when the noise seemed to fade, it rang again - even louder.
Puzzled, I looked up to find something above the Templars that wasn't there before: a golden bell, enormous enough to seem at home affixed inside a tower. But it was there, hovering and chiming at the will of the Commandant.
D-didn't even catch him incanting over all their chants…
Him and his Warden and Paladin were the closest, yet seemed the least affected. The magical bell, in fact, readied to swing back for a third booming chime.
I braced - and so did others - to have raw noise invade every sense again.
Then it stopped.
"…I would like to believe," Karthwyn raised two fingers, "that civilized people possess at least a scrap of decorum. Self-control. That tantrums would not spawn so readily at the results of their own underperformance."
He looked cynically upon the group, dissent torn from their lips. "If you've fallen short today, blame lies solely with you," his eyes tore into the applicant before him. "Not with the Order that mercifully keeps you from piling up on our battlefields."
She removed hands from her ears. "You say I'm weak? We're weak?" she glanced back at the crowd, which suddenly seemed a lot less motivated to back her.
Karthwyn positioned himself entirely within her personal space. "Yes."
She backed off, ever so slightly. "J-just because you made a little noise doesn't make you right! I'm strong. Abyss, stronger than you! I'll prove it!"
"Then do so," provoked a frigid Karthwyn.
The woman balled a desperate fist. "Fin-"
I'd never seen someone hit the ground so fast. A casual backhand and the applicant was hacking red into the grass and teetering about on bulky arms and knees. Small white fragments sparkled within her leaking blood and spittle. Teeth. Or what was left of them.
Karthwyn looked upon his work, lowered a gauntlet, and turned to bore his gaze through the losing crowd. "…Have we any further interruptions?"
Pale faces and shaking heads responded silently.
He nodded. "Templars? Take her away. Even those outside the capital know the law's response to an attack against a member of the Order."
Two nearby Paladins came and lifted up the woman - still drunk off Karthwyn's gauntlet - and dragged her to the Citadel entrance.
…Actually taking him up on his offer was stupid. But, shade, knowing how severe Selem treats its "criminals"…
"What was she thinking?" whispered a nearby applicant. "You hafta be a loon to argue with a Commandant."
"Worse," said a woman. "To think you can take one in a fight. Hmph. What corner of Lumerit did she lumber from?"
"Probably the same corner as…"
Their voices quieted. I could still hear them, of course. But they didn't deserve my attention.
Though, they don't seem to know I did my fair share of feuding with Karthwyn. Guess nobody all the way up the tower could catch what happened down here. Probably for the best.
Karthwyn tapped an impatient finger against his plate. "As stated before: the Order shall not suffer the unruly. Now, let us conclude with this preliminary."
The Commandant cleared his throat. "According to our count, one hundred and thirty-six applicants have passed this trial." His features lifted slightly. "Acceptable work. But you'd do well not to let it balloon your heads. Three more Ordeals stand before you. Rock climbing will prove the least of your worries."
He faced the much larger crowd opposite us. "As for the two hundred and ninety that didn't…" His face returned to a cold etching upon unimpressed stone. "See to both reapplying yourselves and to the Order. Alternatively, and perhaps better suited to your strengths, is the city guard, guild employ, or independent work. I'm certain you'll find their standards much more attractive. That is all. You are dismissed."
Uncomfortable seconds passed. Those in the far group seemed slow to comprehend their loss.
I understood. I mean, some surely lived in the capital, but others must've journeyed from further than Sienna Village, just to be rejected after a challenge they didn't know to prepare for. Karthwyn hadn't even softened the blow. He just watched as the majority of his Templars forced the mass to leave the idyllic Citadel for whatever home they meant to leave behind.
Nobody put up a fight. Karthwyn's display meant the few willing to make a fuss were tranquilized, and I imagined his Templars had free rein to do the same if needed.
Sure, some applicants grumbled. Cursed under their breath. A few even burst into tears. The Order stopped for no one. A little prodding and the failing applicants became a steadily shrinking mark on the horizon.
Then, they were gone.
…So many cut off from us, just like that. I forced the pity from my mind. I can't be like them. I've gotta be better.
Karthwyn turned back to us and spoke. "As for those who remain, you shall follow me to the Sacred Ordeals proper."
Without delay, our group was arranged into multiple rows and directed further through the field, leaving behind the colossal Tower of Stone. The three overseers led the pack, with the few remaining Templars watching our sides and rear - where I'd positioned myself.
And why wouldn't I? The chiming bell might've been startling and the applicant's send-off unfortunate, but nothing had changed. I was still the dark mage, the one blotch in a paradise of light.
I had to keep my guard up at all times, then. The number of people with a bone to pick with me probably accounted for my entire skeleton.
No Templar wanted me there, that was plain as day. If not for the law and Karthwyn's "grace", I'd be doing the walk of shame with the rest. And Karthwyn. He wanted, no, needed to see me fail. All for his shading agenda. But that only regarded the Order.
Hyland - the ex-Templar - must've been on the prowl even then. Just salivating at the idea of an eventual opportunity to expose and slay me in a single stroke. Other applicants despised me too, or at best, feared what'd happen if they were even seen near me. I wasn't the only one making distance from others, after all.
And Niles…
…How could he?
Danger assessment and constant vigilance left me little time to marvel at the passing scenery. I barely noticed the pearl pathway underfoot, rolling through the field's grass. I'm sure the shimmering lakes were teeming with fish, and I'm positive the gardens were splashes of gorgeous color, but honestly, I couldn't care less in the moment. My eyes were locked solely on the present.
Even as some looked to the future.
"Oy! Youse three!" called a large man near the front of the crowd.
Probably the largest one among the remaining applicants, actually. The same grey Ratfolk who didn't know how to watch his tail.
"Ah, sorry - bosses," he corrected himself, hunched over those nearby with a stripe of black fur reaching from his head, along his unclothed back, to similarly dark trousers. "Before, you said the Ordeals were split over three days - one for each day and all."
Karthwyn glanced back, then returned his gaze to the winding path. "I did say as much."
"All right, then what's comin' next?" asked the Ratfolk. "I'm thinking we're not doing much else physical, so are we resting? Waitin' for tomorrow?"
"Yeah, actually!" said Merriline. "We've got this nice place for you guys to relax, and-"
"Quiet, Merriline!" scolded Karthwyn. "They are to be told when the matter becomes relevant. Not before."
"Eep!" She threw a hand over her mouth. "Sorry, sir!"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why do we even…"
Gazes drifted around. Some smiles even formed. I'd figured we'd be kept close by - instead of allowed the freedom to walk the city - but to be promised somewhere comfortable between all the danger put most at ease.
Not me.
Way she said it, we'll probably all be kept within close proximity to each other. Possibly unsupervised. Abyss… what better recipe for disaster.
I looked skyward. Barely past noon. Assuming we wake in the morning, there's roughly eighteen hours between now and the next Ordeal. I massaged the bridge of my nose, then realized I didn't have the muscles for it to relax my stress. Great. How'd I end up in a position where the Ordeals feel like the safest part of all this?
For near-on ten minutes we trekked deeper into the Citadel - all while I counted my chips and kept tabs on those nearby. A snide glare here, a wary glance there. Nothing unusual. 'Till I noticed someone much further in the line slowly lose pace, letting others pass them. This continued as they came closer and closer to the back.
After seeing who it was, I knew it was intentional.
"Holdin' up well, 'dark mage?'" The orange-haired woman gave an easy smile. Soleil, from before the preliminary. "Gotta say, didn't expect ya to puff out your chest in front of the Commandant. We all know what happened to the next sucker that pushed their luck."
My pace staggered. "H-how'd you hear about that?"
There's no way she knew what happened with the Earthen Gaol. We would've been ants from that high up, and that's assuming she was at the very edge.
"Who knows?" she teased. "Maybe it just came to me? A stroke of divine insight?"
"…You must've been told by someone."
But who? There wouldn't have been time for one from the losing crowd to. And you'd have to torture one of these Templars to get them to spill anything.
She laughed, then studied me with one fiery eye. "Close. Heard some Templars blabbin' about it - and not very quietly either. Really, you wouldn't believe the things people say when they think no one's listening."
I started to watch her as closely as she did me. "If those things were so terrible, why talk to me? Like you said, I'm a dark mage. That part I know you saw."
"Why? Easy. A dark mage, who'll backtalk a Commandant, taking the Ordeals? You're a riot."
"And you're distracting me."
Soleil was unphased. "From all the people who hate dark mages?" She glanced around, collecting odd looks by the dozens. "Hm. Yeah, ya might wanna be on high alert."
My eyes narrowed.
"Come on, don't be so cold. I strolled back here, started a chat - all to get to know ya."
"Well I'm not in the mood."
"Fair," she shrugged, hands in her bright pockets. "You did just get flung off a cliff. Tends to work the nerves. How's this, then: can a curious young lass at least know your name?""
I tightened my fists. Then let go. It wasn't worth it.
"…Skell." I eyed her weapon. "Pretty sure I already know yours."
"My flail?" She flashed her slanted smile again. "Nice catch. I think I'm starting to like ya, Skell."
…Shade, why does that feel so nice to hear, now?
I looked at Soleil, really looked at her. And now that I think about, her smile… it's crooked, off-center… but almost charming, in a way.
Wait, Skell! Pull it together! You're not gonna let some girl land on your good side because she 'says' she likes you. Use your skull; you don't have any allies here. Not anymore. Only potential enemies. That includes Soleil. She just might be smarter about it…
"I'm gonna move further up," I told her. "Something's up ahead."
"Fair enough," she shrugged. "See ya later then - Skell."
Warily, I left Soleil behind and waded through the crowd. Eyes turned to me immediately, but sense told me I was safer there, where I could be assaulted at any angle. I didn't forget Soleil's performance at the Tower of Stone.
Second place in scaling the Tower, right behind Hyland… while wearing sandals? No thanks. Someone like that's someone I don't wanna test my luck with. I'll take my chances with the mob.
But really, I didn't have to spend long watching my every blind spot. There really was something ahead. Something I never imagined existed.
"Here we are," Karthwyn said at the head of the group.
In front us was, honestly, an underwhelming building. One story tall, built of a solid-white marble, and of course: hexagonal in shape. Not that it was unimpressive by design. But the Order was beginning to rely on the same-old hexagons and whites just a bit too much.
"Inside," gestured Karthwyn.
He produced something I couldn't make out from afar, held it high, and two massive doors swept open as if pushed by giant hands.
Well that's new, at least.
The Commandant led us inside the opening, our numbers slowly filling the broad, windowless space. I quickly took the chance to press my back against the far wall, training my eyes on the whole of the room. For everyone's sake, no one came close.
Having been blessed with slight, temporary safety, my attention wandered. Above, a blue-glass dome made the structure's ceiling. It cast the overhead sun a mystical violet. And at our feet, a strange floor. Whiter than the marble walls, and dashed with many black strokes - like lifeless veins.
Center of it all was a pedestal built into the ground, housing an unfilled slot in its slanted surface.
What is this place?
"Can I tell them?" Merriline begged Karthwyn, standing shorter than the pedestal beside her. "About this, I mean? It's relevant!"
Karthwyn exhaled. But didn't say no.
"Yay!" she straightened. "Okay, so, this whole place isn't just your everyday building - it's an enchanted building. Even better, it was crafted by one of our very own Justices: Eliholl DeLeur!"
That name… I've seen it from my studies. And an Abyss of a lot more than once.
"I won't put you to sleep," assured Merriline, "with all the complicated magical mumbo-jumbo. All you need to know is, when inserting a trigger crystal into the slot - like Commandant Karthwyn's doing right now, then… wait-"
I nearly crashed to the floor. So did half the other applicants. Something was terribly wrong. The ground didn't seem to be moving, but the sensation of a creeping fall came over me.
My eyes darted along the unease of others. Those "veins" in the floor, they were blue now. Glowing.
Th-this must be the enchantment!
"Everyone, relax!" Merriline's shrill voice inspired the opposite. "You're a hundred percent safe - this is totally normal. The escalift feels strange the first few times it takes you up and down floors, but you get used to it, I promise!"
"Up and down!?" someone shouted. "A-are we flying!?"
"Are ye daft?" replied another. "The ceiling's gettin' further away - we're falling."
It felt like my bones were being pulled through the floor despite my ostensibly motionless surroundings. But eventually I found my footing. Standing in the escalift - Merriline called it - felt dizzying. Even moreso when I had enough of a hold on my faculties to consider what was happening.
We're… plummeting safely through the air? To different floors? This is insane! We don't have to climb a rung or walk a step, just an enchantment and a rock and we're dropping - all of us.
Everyone who initially struggled regained their bearings. Awed eyes - lit by the glowing veins - rose to the ascending walls, now earthen and cylindrical. I caught a few familiar faces in the lights.
Soleil was unbothered by the escalift. In fact, she pointed and laughed at those who weren't taking it so well.
Hyland was similarly composed. His eyes were closed, boot against the wall he leaned on. Like he was biding his time.
And a spectacled girl - one I'd seen before scribbling into a journal - had a hand clasped over her mouth, partway to puking all over the magic floor. I couldn't blame her. But I would look away.
Thankfully for her vertigo, the sensation eased and the walls slowed to a stop. Opposite the wall I rested on slid into place another pair of doors, smaller than those from before.
Karthwyn extracted the cyan crystal slotted into the pedestal, and brought it to the door, parting the applicants in his way like a finger through sand.
He lifted the crystal, and the doors spread open on their own.
"Welcome to the Sacred Ordeals," presented Karthwyn. "Step inside, and I will illuminate your living arrangements over the next three days."
Bright light pooled into the escalift, past heads that blocked my view. The overseers entered first, then everyone else, funneling through the doors just slowly enough to make me want to burst through to the front. But eventually, they filled the next room.
I was able to poke my head in. And for a moment, forget that I was in mortal danger.
A six-sided room caught the hundred or so bodies easily in its sprawling reach, furnished in numerous tables and chairs and chandeliers and already-prepared plates of Lumeritan delicacies and drink. Hungry stares devoured the food while their mouths watered. Karthwyn wasn't oblivious.
"You may eat, if it perks your ears," he permitted.
A solid half of the applicants raced to scoop up knives and forks and dig in. The other half seemed to figure they'd look more professional if they didn't tear into a meal in front of their potential boss. The second group were a pack of morons.
Then again, I must look like one of them.
I ignored the thought and looked past the tablecloths and wine. On each of the room's six sides was a door. The first two were labeled "Men's Dormitory" and "Women's Dormitory." Obviously, the one behind me was the exit. The last three? "First Ordeal," "Second Ordeal," and "Final Ordeal".
So close. And of course, not a lick of information about a single one.
"As you can see," Karthwyn positioned himself center of the chamber, "this is a commons room. Every morning, afternoon, and evening, food will be served, and you may… mingle, socially, if you so desire. You'll find rooms to the three Ordeals - locked tight until the day of, and dormitories, separated by the first letter of your names."
"And if you look up," said Merriline, "you'll see portraits of the Judges!"
She wasn't wrong. Massive, lifelike depictions of the Order's three Judges - and the High Judge herself - hung from the lofty ceiling, one for each diagonal direction. Masterful artistry built each of the legendary figures to be larger than life in every sense of the word.
Yet, their gazes made me uneasy.
"They're the pillars of the Templars!" Merriline smiled high. "Eliholl DeLeur, sage of the esoteric and arcane! Artoria Sable, the arms-master valkyrie who rends our foes from the skies! Ah! And the lionhearted, courageous vanguard, Lucivan Ridefort~" she stood on the cusp of fainting. "The stories I could tell about hi-"
"Enough, Merriline!" Karthwyn interjected. "Further talk of yours will spark a migraine."
She shrank. "…But I didn't even get to the High Judge…"
"In any case," the Commandant ignored her, "your free time is your own. When morning comes however, you will be awoken, prepared or ill, and sent to the next Ordeal. Until then, you are to watch over yourselves."
"What!?" asked the Ratfolk, already having emptied his plate and the one beside it. "You're sayin' there's no Templars to keep an eye on the place? What's to stop certain types from causing trouble for the rest o' us?"
He wasn't subtle. Neither were the glances turning my way.
"You are all adults, and more importantly," said Karthwyn, "contenders to be Templars. You shall not be coddled."
"Additionally," said Valérie, "you would be unwise to start an altercation here, when the Sacred Ordeals will prove enough of a concern."
Among all the applicants, I don't think anyone liked that answer. Sure, he wanted fierce warriors, and warriors hardly needed chaperones, but without the Templars around I had the brightest target painted on my back. There'd be more Hylands, I was sure of it, and no Valéries to defend me this time.
Even better, I eyed my surroundings, I don't see anywhere to hide. If anyone wants at me…
"However," Karthwyn added, "there is an out, if fear takes you. Forfeiture. Open the exit doors and take the escalift. They will both be made to function at the presence of an applicant, without a trigger crystal. Feel free to use them at any time."
"D-did you say forfeiture?" asked an applicant. "Then, if we take the escalift back up, we're basically giving up?"
"Precisely," said the Commandant. "It is entirely your choice. Consider it carefully."
Karthwyn, Valérie, and Merriline all made their way to the exit, alongside the Templars they brought. "That is all for today," he stopped at the door, looking upon us all. Converse. Rest. Train, even. But know this: the Sacred Ordeals approach all the same."
His pale-green gaze, for just the slightest moment, tore into me, and I could've sworn I caught the ghost of a smile. "Do not disappoint."
With his crystal, the Commandant opened the doors and entered the escalift. Magical stirring could be heard behind the door - shifting stone. Then, nothing.
The room fell silent.
And eyes fell upon me.