[Skell]
Bright lights and the crescendo of stomping jolted me from my nightly thoughts.
Is it morning so soon?
A slam of the dorm door answered my question. Inside the frame stood Karthwyn, frowning into a room of startled applicants.
"Rise and shine!" he said without a shred of enthusiasm. "You have three minutes to convene in the commons. Tardiness will be recognized as forfeiture."
Then, just as suddenly as he came, the Commandant was gone.
I stretched as I sat up, taking note of the other guys. Wrists picked sleep out of eyes and lips splayed into draggy yawns.
As for me? I flew out of bed, not lacking an ounce of energy.
…Maybe sleepless nights aren't all bad.
—————————————————————————————————
"Now that everyone is accounted for and, I expect, alert," Karthwyn's gaze brought the sleepiest of us to attention, "I shall brief you all on what the first Ordeal entails. Or I would have. But first…"
He gestured to a broken table between the trio of him, Merriline, and Valérie, and the gathered crowd of nervous applicants. "It has come to my attention that this facility has sustained damage since our last visit. Shattered bathroom lights, a decimated stall, and this table among others."
H-hey, I didn't do that last one. Hyland must've lost it after getting this close to killing me last night.
"I believed there was enough sense among you," he scolded, "not to devolve into such barbarity once unsupervised. Evidently my faith was misplaced."
"But it wasn't us," snitched Ra'Kol, hand over his healing gash, "that was-"
"I did not _ask _who it was," Karthwyn's glare froze us all. "I say this: going forward, there is to be no more feuding among applicants. Neither is there to be destruction of Order property for any reason. Am I understood?"
Tense nods spread through our numbers. Even in the back, where I stood.
If it's my life or your shading property, I gave a false nod, I'd decay this whole place to the ground.
"Then onto the next order of business," he glanced at his left. "Valérie, as you are the overseer of this Ordeal, enlighten them."
"Yes sir," she stepped forward. "This Ordeal, as opposed to the preliminary, will be a team endeavor. Specifically, teams of two."
Eyes instantly darted around the crowd. Sizing each other up, deciding who they'd never team with in a thousand years. The looks I got were about what you'd expect.
"Teams will not be up to choice," Valérie put some fears to rest while giving others new life, before producing a metal box with no lid. "Chance will be be the deciding factor. Within this box are tickets, each penned with an applicant's name. To maximize fairness, the tickets have been folded and shuffled."
"Excusez-moi," a white-haired noble raised a baton-like object. "With all due respect, why will we act in tandem? Are the Sacred Ordeals not a stage on which we are to present our individual talents?"
"They are," replied the Warden. "In part. Physical and magical prowess, however, are hardly the only aspects a Templar needs be proficient in. Synergy and structure makes our Order strong. Neither can be achieved if one cannot work with others to conquer a common goal."
"Um… a common goal?" asked the dark-haired, spectacled girl. "Can I ask… what we'll be facing?"
Karthwyn looked to Valérie, and she nodded back. "You shall be told soon. First, your teams will be called."
As she dug a huge gauntlet into the box, I watched closely.
Calling teams for a challenge we don't even know about? Urgh, I hope whoever I get wants to win more than they hate my glamoured guts.
The first ticket rose from between Valérie's metal fingers, and she unfolded it as everyone watched eagerly, apprehensively, or both. "Ormine, step forward."
Strolling proudly from the group was the skinny one-armed arm-wrestling champion from yesterday. Steel plate hung from her petite shoulders. Fervent knuckles swayed on her way to the Templars. "Finally, a chance to show what I'm made of!"
"Ramon, step forward." Valérie drew a green-haired man to be her partner. They stood before the Warden. "The two of you - stand near the first Ordeal's doors until the rest are called. Do not separate."
As they made for the large double-doors - covered in intricate blue glyphs - Valérie reached for another pair of tickets.
More names were announced. Our numbers thinned as more teams broke off for the doors. Some weren't too smiley about their partner, others seemed relieved to have someone strong-looking, or an applicant they befriended yesterday. Most, though, were pretty neutral with their ally. They'd only know the skill of who they'd fight alongside once the action started, after all.
By the time our group shrank to under half its original size, I realized no one I "knew" had been called yet. Yamui, Hyland, Soleil, and… Niles.
Will I end up with one of them? Soleil might not be too bad - she can definitely hold her own, but Yamui might use his talents to decapitate me if I get in his way. Hyland won't even need an excuse to slaughter me. That just leaves…
My eyes moved to him. He'd been watching me for who-knows-how-long 'til I noticed him. His gaze quickly flicked elsewhere.
I'd rather take my chances with Hyland. Least I'd know what to expect.
"Skell, step forward," said Valérie.
About time, I did as she asked. The moment of truth. Whoever she calls could make or break me. Just, please be someone good…
She unfolded the next paper. "Penelle, accompany Skell to the doors."
I stopped halfway. …Her? You've gotta be sh-
"Of all people, him!?" Penelle's wispy voice shot to a note so high no instrument could play it, its usual grace and poise flying out the window. Just like she flew from the crowd.
"Please," she approached, "I beg you to reconsider. I can't make allies of this… this…" she thrust a desperate finger in my face.
"What?" I crossed my arms. "Dark mage?"
"Yes!" her pink eyes bored into me. "You should've left long before, not clung on long enough to be the demise of my prospects!"
"Your prospects? I'd ask if you forgot about yesterday," I pointed, "but that gash can't be easy to ignore."
She winced, Yamui's blade as fresh in her mind as the wound on her cheek.
"I understand," the Warden looked to us, "that not everyone will be pleased with their team. But realize that as a Templar, you will not always be paired with allies you favor. That possibility is something you must accept."
"What of the possibility that my 'ally' can't be trusted?" I spoke more to Penelle than Valérie.
"Then have equal confidence in your odds of survival," Valérie said bluntly.
Penelle and I tore away from each other to look to the Warden.
This Ordeal's gonna be that dangerous?
My partner's face dropped, and she sighed bitterly. "…I will work with the dark mage, if I must. But I won't like it."
"'Liking it' is optional," Karthwyn's patience ran thread-thin. "To the door."
Compelled, Penelle and I started for those crowding around the First Ordeal's entrance.
"Perhaps we should forget yesterday," she quietly touched her cheek - the one blemish on her otherwise elegant appearance.
"No can do," I whispered back. "My memory gets pretty sharp when someone points a…" I motioned to her weapon, "whatever that is at me. A glorified knitting needle, looks like."
"It's an épée! You sunforsaken…" She squeezed the arm of her doublet. "…Look. Animosity will only serve to weaken us. I suggest we put aside any issues. For the moment."
Trying to make peace again, huh?
I hated to even think it, but she wasn't wrong. Whatever we'd be up against would be even more daunting than the Tower of Stone, and considering I was far from one of the stronger applicants, I'd need to take advantage of any and all help, not fight it. Even if it came from an enemy.
"Fine," I shrugged. "'To the side' it is."
We entered the fold with the rest, making a point not to even look at each other. This went on as more teams were called. Eventually, a familiar name arose.
"Niles," called the Warden, "step forward."
My eyes darted over.
"Ra'Kol, accompany him to the doors."
My frown deepened.
"Oy, you," the Wildfolk walked up to Niles, sizing him up. "I know you."
"You do?" Niles was unbothered by Ra'Kol's intimidating tone and stature. "Can't say we've talked before." He scratched his temple. "…Unless I forgot."
Ra'Kol broke into laughter. "Decisive and a joker? We're gonna ace this Ordeal business!"
"A joker?" Niles asked. "Yeah, you could say that - but what's got you calling me decisive?"
"'Cause you're the fella who sent that dark mage packin' in the prelims, that's why. Me and you, we're one and the same. Got the same sense for what's gotta be done."
The swordsman's gaze hardened as he looked away. "…That. Yeah. For what should be done."
"…Take your fist off that staff," Penelle whispered to me, "and don't look so furious. If you get disqualified for something impulsive, I have to deal with the consequences."
"Shut up," I spoke through a fence of teeth.
"Niles. Ra'Kol," addressed Valérie. "You can converse at the doors."
"Got it," the Wildfolk strolled over casually.
Niles raised a glove. "Right - real sorry 'bout that."
First you push me off a cliff, then get chummy with the guy who tried to take me out of the Ordeals? I should bash your teeth in you two-faced, backstabbing prick.
"Yamui, step forward."
Silently splitting from the few applicants left uncalled was the blue-haired foreigner.
Shivers seemed to run across Penelle's skin. "It's that sleep-obsessed freak…"
The Warden gestured to the orange-haired woman. "Soleil, accompany him to the doors."
Yamui sighed at the name of his partner, but continued to the doors alone.
Soleil jogged after him, catching up to his side. "Guess you'll have to show me that sword of yours now, eh?"
He didn't even look at her. "Don't slow me down."
"Don't slow me down," Soleil mocked in a grim tone. "Lighten up some, bird boy."
Yamui regarded her like an incurable disease.
After them, there weren't many groups left for the Warden to call. Finally the last was announced - an applicant I didn't know, and Hyland.
"Now that every team has been assigned," Valérie and the other overseers approached, "follow me through the doors. There, all will be illuminated."
Our numbers parted as she produced what they called a trigger crystal. Up to the doors' glyphs she lifted the stone, some sort of reaction sparking between the two. Then the doors spread open without a touch.
She entered. We followed.
Inside, a glass-like hallway stretched into the distance. Like everything else it was brightly lit by shining prisms, but what caught my attention wasn't the lights, or even that it was see-through. It was the darkness underfoot.
Far, far below spread a ravaged, underground town. Eerie haze drifted between dilapidated stone buildings and leafless, bark-rotten trees. That wasn't the worst of it. The landscape itself was cracked and lifeless and uneven, ravines splitting across the ground and plunging into an inky darkness.
My gaze jumped between the long stalactites hanging around us. Are… are we in a massive cavern? We're right up against the roof.
"That, below, is The Dross," Valérie stated. "The testing grounds for the First Ordeal."
"We're to perform down there?" one applicant shared unease with the rest of us. "What is that place?"
"What happened to it?" another questioned.
The Warden thought a moment. "Time. Time, and the undead."
Our group stopped cold.
"W-wait just a bleedin' moment," someone dropped a shaky finger, "there's undead down there?"
"We must fight them? Is that the Ordeal?" A man's breathing quickened. "Oh, oh no. I'm not prepared for this."
"Undead fester beneath the capital? Is the city safe?"
"Yes, to all of those questions" she turned back to us. "The undead are trapped in a place they cannot escape, and one which lies under our constant vigilance. Concern should not be placed with Selem's citizens; it should be placed in yourselves. Slaying undead will be integral to what comes next. If you determine that too daunting, the doors behind you are still open. The option to forfeit remains."
Faces shifted. Some were more unnerved than others, though of course, anyone signing up to become a Templar should've expected to clash against undead at some point. But…
So soon? In the Ordeals? I looked down to my trembling hand.
"Scared?" questioned Penelle. "Fear won't be of use to us. Discard it."
…It's not that I'm scared.
Seeing that no one was budging, the towering Warden stepped forward. "I shan't mince words: some of you will perish. We seek to minimize casualties. But a number of losses will be inevitable."
Battling monsters in your head is one thing. Actually standing before their den when a cold, bloody, degrading death was a very real possibility? Worlds different. That was dawning on those who couldn't take their eyes off the wreckage below, scanning for movement among the haze. A few even started to turn for the path behind them.
'Til he spoke up.
"We're gonna be Templars!" stated Niles, front of the crowd. "The undead run from us, not the other way around."
"Ha! Well said," added Ra'Kol. "We knew we'd be playin' wit' fire the second we signed up. Let 'em come! We'll stick those corpses right back in the ground!"
Murmurs sprouted. Agreement was spoken, frowns rose, and confidence started to build itself strong. Not everyone was as fearless as those two, but an atmosphere of solidarity set eyes ahead, to the First Ordeal.
The Paladin and Warden however, weren't infected by the optimism.
"Very well, then," the latter turned back. "We continue."
And we did, tailing her, Merriline, and a watchful Karthwyn further down the transparent hall.
"Listen closely," Valérie told us. "The rules of the First Ordeal are simple: slay a certain number of undead using any means available. Weapons. Magic. Wits. As long as they cease to be."
"And by a certain number," added Merriline, who'd been lugging around a pack almost as big as she was, "she means enough points."
"Points?" a few of us asked.
Valérie continued. "The Dross' undead have been outfitted with enchanted collars. Said collars come in three varieties: green, yellow, and red. Slaying an undead with a green collar secures you one point. Yellow and red collars grant two and three points respectively."
"They've been collared?" I whispered to Penelle. "Imagine being the poor shmuck who got that task."
She glanced at me. "Don't attempt at small talk, dark mage."
Fine. You were just a distraction, anyway.
"…Although," she looked aside, "I do pity whoever they are. Or were."
"These colors," the Warden explained, "pertain to the strength of the undead wearing them. To pass this Ordeal, you must acquire ten points in total, with the help of your partner."
The hall's end was nearing, widening into another escalift that seemed to descend along more transparent walls into the ruined townscape. I could've sworn I saw silhouettes scurrying below.
"And to track these points," Merriline turned back, "you'll get an enchanted item of your own."
The Paladin dropped her pack onto the floor, stopping everyone. She threw open the large zipper and split the pack open, then stepped back with a deep breath.
"Mass Wind Current!" Merriline thrust her arms at us.
Out of the bag flew dozens and dozens of white bangles, lifted by a cyclone of green wind. From the single geyser spread many separate currents - each carrying a bangle inside.
It was a wild scene. Blasts wove through our group, blowing by every one us. I followed a single thin current and in the span of a blink the bangle clasped onto the wrist of an unsuspecting applicant.
Then I felt wind, and a tightening on my own wrist. I looked down to discover a bangle. Penelle had a similar revelation.
Merriline wiped beads of sweat off her forehead, a little less peppy than usual. "Those are the bangles Val was talking about. Sorry I didn't warn you guys about the art, but people like to squirm if they know its coming. Now you've all got your own personal bangles and we didn't even have to take forever to hand them out."
Penelle analyzed her wrist. "…Why of course," she whispered sardonically. "Because people never squirm when wind flies their way."
Tell Cynthine that, would you?
After everyone's surprise died down, Valérie spoke up. "Moving on, these bangles have two features. The first is what I stated before: tracking your points. Ten pips circle your bangles. For as many points you collect, as many pips will shine."
I copied Penelle and checked mine. The design was simple and practical, sporting a white color with those ten dark pips she mentioned dotting the exterior. Besides those, the only thing of note was-
"The small button in the middle," the Warden continued, "is the second, and most critical. Press it and you shall instantly return to the main facility. Teleportation, I am told it is called. A cutting-edge enchantment."
Instantly? Like, without walking or riding the escalift? That can't be possible - I'm almost tempted to press the button to prove it. Then again, if they've got all these other crazy enchantments…
She continued. "The teleportation sends you to two locations, depending on your accrued points. Have less than ten - in other words, fail - and you will be brought to the commons. Pass with ten or more and you will be transported to your assigned dorm room. Healers enter both as we speak, prepared to tend to any wounds upon your return."
"This teleportation magic sounds simply incredible," said the white-haired noble. "But I must ask, what if one accidentally brushes against this button after returning? Will they be dragged back into the very literal jaws of danger?"
"That won't happen," she replied. "The magic is one-way."
An applicant eyed her partner. "What if my teammate presses it early? Do I lose too?"
"Passing is up to the individual. But teamwork will ensure a much greater degree of efficiency for both applicants."
"Huh." An applicant stared at his bangle with bald-faced skepticism. "What if it don't work?"
The Warden shook her head. "I assure you it will. Naturally, however, pressing it before gaining ten points will count as forfeiting."
"But that doesn't mean to ignore it until you have all ten!" warned Merriline. "If things get dicey, and you don't think you'll make it…"
"They understand," Karthwyn's voice crawled forth. "There's little need to beat them over the head with it."
So the option to escape danger's always there. Just a button press away… But losing here is no better than death.
"We'll be better off forgetting about the button," I told Penelle.
She nodded. "On that, we agree."
Suddenly the Templars stopped walking. I'd barely noticed we'd stepped onto the escalift. Last time, earthen walls blocked sight of our descent. Now they were transparent. And it was a long way down.
"This is where we part ways," Valérie stated. "As per the rules of the First Ordeal, we cannot intervene in the battles below. Enter the proving grounds, and come out either triumphant or trounced. But do come out. Your life, once the escalift descends, is officially in your hands."
Passing us, the overseers stepped off the escalift. The slanted pedestal wasn't center of the platform this time, or even on it at all, but on the solid ground right before it.
Valérie produced the trigger crystal again. "Are there any further questions?"
Tense faces looked back at her. Cocky and confident faces. Those with everything to prove and even more to gain. Over a hundred applicants. But none of them said a word. Her answer was silence of all stripes.
"I see." The Warden nearly pressed the crystal into the pedestal's slot. But hesitated. And looked from it to us. "Best of luck, applicants. I hope to witness your upcoming success."
She slotted the crystal, and the escalift glowed to life. We braced for the descent. But as I felt the ground fall and the walls rise, I glanced back to the Warden one last time.
On her rigid, unmoving face… was a faintly optimistic smile.
Then the lair of the undead pulled us under.
—————————————————————————————————
"…Ever been face-to-face with an undead?" I asked Penelle, coming to grips with the escalift's dizzying dive.
Watching the refined woman struggle to swallow a rush of bile was a memorable sight in all the worst ways. "Ugh," she removed a hand from her mauve lips, "I'll never become accustomed to this strange elevation doohickey. But to answer you: no, I've never been graced by their presence."
Other teams spoke around us - discussing battle plans. Penelle's frown tugged my attention away from the cloud of noise. "…Have you?" she asked.
"Not once."
"Then I suppose we are at a disadvantage compared to the others. Most here seem to have at least seen one."
"Well, I know a thing or two about them. They can regenerate, for one."
"I'm aware. We need more than common knowledge." She looked aside. "My… my father led a distinguished mercenary company for twenty-two years."
I cocked my head. "…And?"
She huffed. "I'm telling you this to illustrate his experience! But - ugh - my point is, he attributes his storied career to one nugget of wisdom above all. 'Knowing the strengths of your allies will allow you to best exploit the weaknesses of your enemies.'"
"You're saying you wanna know how I fight."
"To put it simply, yes. You clearly use a staff, and I saw some manner of dark magic get you to the Tower of Stone's peak, but aside from that-"
"No," I said.
"…Excuse me?"
I looked around the escalift, eyes finding Hyland, Niles, and Ra'Kol in the distance. "I tell what I can do, and what stops you from squealing that to everyone else? Knowing the ins and outs of my arts would make getting rid of me that much easier."
"What? I have no loyalty to them. To say nothing of Commandant Karthwyn forbidding further violence between us."
"In the main facility," I corrected. "Down here, the Templars can't intervene. They won't even see us from so far up."
She threw hands onto her hips. "You truly think I'll turn on you? At a time when the only help I can rely on is yours?"
I opened my mouth to reply, before silently realizing she had a point. "…Fine. I'll start with the basics. I was trained by a Templar, and-"
"You know what? Nevermind. I'd rather you tell nothing then tell lies."
I'm not ly… urgh. Whatever.
"What about you, then?" I questioned. "I figure that teepee isn't just for show?"
"It's an épée! Eh-peh! You can tell by the bell guard, and the pointed end that will gore your eye if you misname it again."
"If I don't snap that toothpick over my knee first," I wanted to say.
But something told me to try something more polite. Whatever it was, it wasn't sense.
I glanced away. "…Sorry. Épée. Easier to say, now that I've heard it a couple times."
She folded her arms. "If you truly must know, I'll tell you one thing."
"What's that?"
Penelle smirked, taking hands to the grip of her weapon. "I'm one Abyss of a fencer."
A proud declaration, and one she clearly believed. One that gave me genuine of confidence in our chances.
And one that betrayed hers', when I saw it.
The lightly trembling fingers of someone whose first encounter with the undead crept right around the corner.
…They were awfully familiar.
—————————————————————————————————
Transparent walls came to an end overhead as the escalift slowed to a humming stop, entrenching itself into the ground of The Dross. I shook off the turbulence and examined the darkened landscape.
I was interrupted by gagging.
"The air here!" Someone covered their nose. "Agh - it's rancid!"
Coughing fits and noises of disgust spread around our numbers, now that we were within the air of The Dross. Almost everyone had at best a twisted face about the odor. Except Hyland, who inhaled deeply and grinned like he was at home.
"Utterly revolting," Penelle rubbed her nose, then turned to me. "How come you seem to be taking it in stride - it's as if we've walked into a fresh necropolis."
"I'm not," I told her. "Just trying my best to ignore it."
Though I couldn't taste or smell a thing - and that was definitely for the best - I still felt that something was off. The air felt supernaturally thick. Heavy, even. What lurked there really was the antithesis of life itself.
As the others picked a direction to step off the escalift, Penelle and I did the same. By the time our feet left it, its enchanted glow fully faded. There was more light on the other side.
We found ourselves on a high plateau, overlooking the ruined town from its very center. More glass-protected prisms shined around the plateau's rim, marking it as the one bright spot in a sweeping blanket of darkness. Thankfully, Selem's Domain reached even as far down as here, giving a visible gradient to the shadows. But it wasn't as strong as in the sewers. We still had to squint and look twice. And most details were hidden behind the glare of the lights.
I walked close to the plateau's edge, Penelle at my side. "The drop to the actual town is steep. That and these harsh lights probably keep undead at bay. But once we drop down-"
"That changes," her face turned grave.
"I knew I should've forfeited when I had the chance!" A nearby applicant drew everyone's attention, shaking like a flag in the wind. "Down here, in a pit of monsters - it's all too real! I wanna go home!"
"Wait!" said his female partner. "We can pull through this, just-"
"Quit your sniveling!" Hyland barked. "If you want to leave then do so; there's no place in the Order for cowards!" The ex-Knight snatched the man's shivering arm and pushed his button.
Stark white suddenly replaced flesh as the man floated off his feet. The color glided across his body 'til it overwrote wide eyes. Then in a flash of light, his form stretched and stretched and… dissolved before our eyes.
"Sun above!" some cursed. "That's the teleportation!?"
Penelle and I flinched at the sight. The only thing to relax us, and the others, was the realization that as bizarre as it looked to be warped elsewhere, it was allegedly safe. In fact - of all of us - that applicant was easily the safest, somewhere back in the commons. Though not everyone saw his early exit so positively.
"Are you crazy!?" His partner stormed up to Hyland. "That was my aid! What am I to do now; fight these monsters on my own!?"
Hyland stood his ground. "He wasn't Templar material - he would've been massacred. You should be grateful for being ridden of a liability."
"Grateful? You don't know what would've happened!" she argued.
Penelle glanced at me. "We should advance. Everyone's watching these two butt heads and wasting time while they're at it. Let's not join them."
"Right," I said. Because of time, and because the more distance between Hyland and I, the better.
Others were already sliding down the sloped plateau from all angles. To our left was Soleil, who told Yamui how badly she wanted to "stretch her legs." The swordsman ignored her, following behind into the darkness ahead.
Their teamwork's gonna be terrible. Then again, they're so strong, they might not need it. But us…
"Hey, Penelle?" I rubbed the back of my skull. "I know we've got… ideas about each other. You expect me to be bad news. I expect the same from you. But down there, we…" I dropped the thought, shook my head, and reached my eyes for hers. "…I'll have your back, all right?"
The fencer stared at my sincerity with surprise. "Ah, well… Likewise."
She quickly turned and pointed eastward. In the direction of her sharp nail was a spot where the buildings crowded below us, as dismantled as the ground they stood on.
"The town square," she named. "Few are heading that way. I believe our best bet is to move there, quickly defeat the opposition, and leave this filth-pit as soon as humanly possible - without others swooping in to steal points from us."
"Sounds like a solid plan," I pulled out my staff. "Let's make it happen."
Sweeping aside any doubt, we leapt over the plateau's rim. Boots came down hard as they skated down the steep slope. The safety of our perch was left behind.
Now, we were in the den of my kin.