The questions and mental games would switch up whenever completed, each category involving history and lore of divine beings.
Catalina finishes without answering one incorrectly, relief warming her.
Her eyes gleam a shade close to baby blue as she looks back, deepening her mana perception to count the current number of challengers.
'Eight hundred and ninety.' She sighs. 'Good grief. I can't do anymore. I already wasted enough time.'
Mana perception is a skill inherent in the mastery of pure mana, enabling her to sense the presence of those among unseen mana adrift in the air. The dragon transformation trait has two forms. The first grants the blessed the skill to transform into a full-blown dragon.
Absolute Defense, Vixen Reptilian armor, is the second one. The armor boosts agility and strength to high heights, granting the user the ability to manipulate pure mana.
Pure mana is its own force of energy; olden magic only dragons can wield.
Although magic differs from divine power, it is just as powerful, yet she does not know any spells that will help any of them significantly. She only learned magic spells that help her with daily life.
For example, a heating up spell for food so she doesn't have to leave her room at night.
She regrets it now. She could have learned more in those three weeks, but she was not motivated to even breathe.
Catalina had created pure mana platforms for them to travel across the lava and icy pathways and tamed the nearby snow beast to avoid attacking them; however, it isn't nearly enough to dim the weight in her heart.
'It is illogical to expect people trained in weaponry to survive the Deadly Journey up the mountain once, let alone five times because they get one question wrong each round.'
Her feet raise as she takes flight, reaching the sky in search of a nearby snow beast.
'Murder is sinful because death is painful. No one in this era really sees this as murder though. Many more could survive, but disorder rules out the weak, the unprepared, the unworthy.
To craft a god, fate must be on their side. Would fate let a god die before it leaves tales in the cosmos? Of course not, therefore death is viewed as a blessing, rather than a tragedy at Lightless. I'm afraid I will get comfortable with that logic. I don't want it.'
She could have gathered them all under her wings, aiding them with each question like a mother's hen.
The council of Lightless never stated teaming up to be forbidden. Kallias and Rhea teamed up, but she was terrified of that being wrong. Just because it wasn't stated didn't mean it was right.
Yet, helping people always brings this wave of pleasure to her soul. For a time, she was confused on why a simple human behavior felt this way, but then she came to understand that good people are effortlessly generous. The act of goodness soothed her mind.
'Am I too damaged to become a god? Too human?'
Those types of thoughts swirl in her mind the entire trip to the pit and along the way she commands a snow beast to follow her, planning to use it as a mattress as she waits for the completion of the Abysmal Trial.
The sun gradually descends, as if sinking as she glides in the air smoothly and elegantly. She does not stop, her endurance pushing to its limits as she rushes there. Upon arrival, her heart squeezes in disappointment.
'What a load of bullshit.'
She is not the first to the pit. She is the second.
****
On the grand starlight bridge, near the far right of the edge, Aysun Misul, Pillar of Moon Clan, light pink eyes regard the screens showcasing different challengers from all angles. Her expression calm and highly amused.
She sits in a throne-like chair; her posture defined and overflowing with confidence, clad in an elegant red and yellow gown, with gold jewelry covering every bare inch of her golden skin.
"Who do you think is the most promising?" she asks.
The young handsome boy beside her wore a black silk Hanfu robe with wide sleeves and white furry edges. He possesses sharp, dark pink eyes, fair skin, a diamond-shaped face, and neatly layered black hair, which flows to his nape.
He is Akira Misul, Weather Singer of Voyager Seekers.
Seated on a chair a tad size smaller than her throne and less elegant, he answers in a flat tone full of disinterest: "Kallias and Lycidas Polymina. Catalina Melpomene. Those three are the only noteworthy ones."
"What about Calix? He's not too far behind his brothers."
"He's a weak man trying to be strong."
The Pillar hums thoughtfully. "You aren't wrong about that. Most of the people in the Elysian Cosmos are weak beings attempting to defy their truth." Her cool gaze travel to where the Snow God and his wife sit. "I'm surprised they sent her here instead of their son. To let her roam away from their wings is folly."
"She must have more potential."
"Indeed."
The dark amusement in her voice unnerves him as he follows his mother's gaze and ends up staring into innocent golden eyes.
Casimir Melpomene gives him a friendly smile.
Weather Singer waves with a faint grin, then looks away first, resting his chin upon his knuckles; his expression bored.
Aysun always rants that they barely make an appearance in public because they think they're better than everyone else. She wasted no time in laughing heartily at the shameful death of their eldest.
For some reason, Akira does not believe her.
From what he saw and observed from Ziven, everyone in the north appears tired of the same political games and derisive conversations plastered with fake smiles and expensive beverages.
'They had the power to ignore the bullshit,' he thinks.
"Do well remember this, my son," Pillar of Moon Clan says, not sensing her child's emotions, but seeing it visible in his eyes.
The dark pink is almost red with frustration. "The world ends inside a person before it does in reality."
****
Rampaging through a pile of clothes, Catalina pulls out a silken dress, pressing it against her body and twirls around in front of a long mirror.
She grins at her reflection.
The smooth floor underneath her bare feet unfeeling as she glides, picturing herself as someone capable of living, finding love and being a figure worthy of worship.
Her daydream pops when she spots a snack basket, giddiness washing over her. She hangs the dresses back on the rack and creeps towards the snack basket, digging out a few treats.
Her head bops in approval at the selection of chocolate and sweet orange and blueberry candies sticks.
Then she creeps out of the walking closet, a wicked grin on her lips that falters just as it widens into existence. Frozen in modification, her jaw drops at the blinking red light.
'Bitch has a camera in her room?!'
Eleven-year-old Catalina pulse picks up vigorously.
"Ataraxia has a camera, mom!" She burst out of the room, soaring over the railing to the kitchen. "It's never that serious!"
Standing in front of the sink, in the middle of refilling the water pitcher, Zolani turns her head, amusement written on her kind face. "In other words, you got caught in 4k."
Catalina's face heats up in embarrassment, a darkness swirling in her eyes. "It's not funny! She'll hate me."
Zolani chuckles. "No, she won't. She loves you."
Catalina bumps into her as she closes the distance, eyes trailing over her mother's curly pink hair strays, distracted. She wishes she had her mother's hair, even though it isn't a sign of being a holy child.
She has the eyes, so why does she have to have Winter Clan's traditional hair too?
"Help me," Catalina pleads.
"Of course, honey." Zolani sets the refilled pitcher aside, ruffling her hair. "Remember to be careful next time."
Catalina jolts awake, her eyes open and close groggily.
She lays slump for a while before raising her feet and sliding off the bed. She proceeds to the bathroom; her thoughts are a slow process.
"Just a stupid memory," she grumbles, already pushing it to the back of her mind.
After using the bathroom, she washes her hands, watching the water like it's the most fascinating thing in the morning, her shoulders slumped.
'Why am I still so tired?'
She sighs, looking up and meeting her dead eyes. She brightens her face, amused at the spark of life on her face despite the lack of feeling of it.
Her lips thin into a firm line, yet in the reflection she's still smiling.
Confused, she touches her mouth, feeling that they are flat. "It's not real," she hears herself say, but her mouth has not moved.
She instantly backs away from the mirror, fingers curling and clawing at her scalp.
Her vision floods with images she has never seen before but senses an intense familiarity with, as if she dreamed of these places once upon a time and somehow forgotten.
She tries to make out the images and piece them together, however, the more she tries, the darker the edge of her vision becomes.
Soon, darkness captures her entirely, and she is falling.
When Catalina finally regains consciousness, the moon is out and full.
The midnight blue sky streaked with fractured lights appearing like broken celestials. She lifts herself into a seating position; her palms spray across the white fur of a snow beast.
'I'm still at the trial,' she thinks, head temporarily fuzzy.
"The beast is tamed."
Catalina looks at the source of noise, leaning over the snow beast's head. "Is that a question?"
The crystalline-eyed boy shrinks back, frightened. "No!"
As he scurries away, she frowns. 'The fuck?'
Leaping off the beast, flight enveloping around her, she grasps the boy's arm before he can get far.
"Repeat what you…."
Her words trail off, expressing a shocked gasp.
He isn't crying, but his eyes are full of tears, a sadness she feels in her bones, rooting in her body like a wound she herself has been inflicted with. 'It's him. Kavish or Calix….'
"Never mind," she says, letting go.
She dispels the memory of the bloody body from her mind, tracking the boy's movements, then returning to her comfy seat.
Nine days passed, and four hundred and five challengers survived the Deadly Journey.
When everyone is gathered in the pit, the matches against the mentor proctors begin. The first to arrive at the pit is the first up, Lycidas Polymina.
To Catalina's relief she ranks first in the dual battle, defeating the young man in under ten minutes. In the end, three hundred and eighty-seven became seekers.
"Congratulations, you are now officially students of Lightless," Mallory Nioma, the older woman council member, says.
"After successfully completing the mental games and questions, the imprint of a zodiac path was absorbed into the Animation Threads in your body."
"From the eastern continent, Fawn Iridessa, Descender of Idols, will awaken the chronicle points inside you," Hadeon Deimos announces.
"The zodiac path you are blessed with won't be known until you unlock your first relic. For those confused do not fret. You'll learn more about chronicle points and the relics you've gained in classes tomorrow."
As he finishes speaking, the Astral Passage door appears and out walks a beautiful tan woman.
At the sight of her everyone below the rank of an Ophanim evokes the traditional greeting towards a higher human; They tap their left chest side first then the right before their forehead, then they bow in reverence.
Silence follows as they rise.
Fawn Iridessa remains silent, hand extending to the sky.
Divine energy spills from her palm, reaching the expanse of Elysian Cosmos and lighting up the path to their future tales.
Twelve constellations overlap each other in various hues and symbols in the sky. The radiance of the energy causes Catalina to squint and avert her gaze to the stained ground, cringing at the blood.
"Repeat this oath—Beneath The Stars, we are one with power, or we are none!" Descender of Idols exclaims.
"Beneath The Stars, we are one with power, or we are none!"
Catalina's voice disappears in the mass of voices.
In the next second, warmth bubbles underneath Catalina's flesh, tickling along her forearm and sending chills down her spine. She shudders and looks at her right hand.
Seven-pointed stars form a constellation, traveling up her forearm. Each star is dull, seemingly lifeless; their shape is nearly unidentifiable, as if uncertain of its own existence.
The twelve constellations fade, retreating beyond the earth and to some outer realm.
"Your life is to the gods now," Haedon says.
Above the new seekers are twinkling fractured lights, each blinking in acknowledgment.
"You either become one yourself or serve them."