12
Beast Trial
The Emberfall dining hall was unusually quiet that morning, the hum of tension hanging heavy in the air. The remaining competitors ate in near silence, their focus sharp and unwavering. Even the eliminated warriors, who had shared so many laughs and stories over the past days, seemed more subdued, though a few managed to break through the somber mood with light-hearted banter.
“Guess we’ll see if Jesta can dodge a monster the way she dodges the dishes,” Bregund quipped, earning a round of chuckles.
“She’s too graceful for that,” Brook added with a grin. “But we all know I’d be the one to wrestle it down.”
The laughter that followed was warm but fleeting, the weight of the day ahead quickly returning. At the far end of the hall, Prigo Crest sat apart from the rest, his seat at the King’s table marking a clear divide. His smug grin only deepened Alyc’s unease as she caught him staring at her from across the room. She shifted in her seat, trying to shake the feeling.
Durk noticed and leaned closer. “Let him look,” he murmured. “You’ve got better things to focus on today.”
She nodded, but Prigo’s arrogance lingered in her mind like a splinter. The walk to the arena was brisk, the company moving as one through the labyrinthine halls of the Western Palace. The echoes of their footsteps mingled with the distant roar of the crowd, the anticipation outside building to a fever pitch. Alyc walked beside Durk, her hands tucked into her sleeves to fend off the morning chill.
“Who do you think will win, Dad?” she asked, breaking the silence.
Durk tilted his head thoughtfully, his gaze fixed ahead. “Hard to say,” he replied after a moment. “Jesta’s quick and clever, and Vienna’s steady under pressure. But the Trials aren’t just about skill. They test everything heart, mind, luck.”
Alyc wrinkled her nose. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the best one I’ve got,” he said with a small smile. “Just watch and see. You might be surprised.”
She nodded, her thoughts drifting to the remaining competitors. Each had their strengths, but the stakes were higher than ever. Today wasn’t about shadows or races. Today was about survival.
The coliseum was already alive when they arrived, the noise of the crowd washing over them like a wave. Banners of Emberfall and Selenia flapped in the breeze, their colors vivid against the bright morning sky. The energy in the air was electric, the spectators restless in their seats as they awaited the day’s spectacle.
Alyc and Durk took their places in the Emberfall section, the familiar red stone warm under Alyc’s hands as she leaned forward to take in the view. From their vantage point, the arena floor stretched wide and open, its sand smooth and untouched. The crowd’s cheers grew louder as the Divine Council emerged, their presence commanding instant silence.
The Seer stepped to the center, her silver eyes gleaming in the sunlight. She raised a hand, and the coliseum fell into a hush. Alyc felt her pulse quicken, her breath catching as the Seer began to speak.
“Champions, spectators, and honored guests,” the Seer said, her voice carrying effortlessly. “You have borne witness to extraordinary feats of skill and endurance. Today, we test the very essence of bravery and strength. Today, our champions will face the Beast Trial.”
A ripple of murmurs ran through the crowd, and Alyc’s stomach twisted.
“These are no shadows,” the Seer continued. “These creatures are ancient, formidable, and real. Many a champion has met their end in this trial, but those who triumph will earn their place among legends.”
Alyc’s heart pounded as she leaned closer to Durk. “What kind of beasts?” she whispered.
Durk didn’t answer immediately, his jaw tightening as he listened to the Seer.
The Seer paused, her gaze sweeping over the competitors. “Each beast has been chosen specifically to test you. Face them with honor, and remember: surrender is always an option. Should you choose to yield, the creature will cease its attack, and your life will be spared. But know this victory demands courage and resolve. Let the trials begin.”
Alyc glanced at the competitors as they lined up, their faces a mixture of focus and apprehension. She spotted Jesta Valance stepping forward, her dark hair gleaming in the sun. The crowd erupted in cheers, the sound reverberating through the coliseum like a roar.
“She’s first,” Alyc said, her voice barely audible over the noise.
Durk nodded, his eyes fixed on the arena floor. “Let’s see what she’s made of.”
The coliseum buzzed with anticipation as the Seer stepped forward once more, her silver eyes scanning the crowd. Her voice rang out, steady and commanding. “Today, we honor not only the bravery of our champions but the ancient beasts who serve as their challengers. These trials are a test of courage, strength, and ingenuity. Many have faced them, and not all have emerged victorious.”
Alyc felt her chest tighten, her hands gripping the edge of her seat. She glanced at Durk, who remained stoic, his gaze fixed on the arena.
“Let us begin,” the Seer continued. “Jesta Valance of Selenia, step forward.”
The crowd erupted into cheers as Jesta strode into the center of the arena. Her dark hair shimmered in the sunlight, her every movement radiating confidence. Alyc leaned forward, her heart racing.
The Seer raised her arm, and the Voice of the Earth emerged. Lithus, a towering figure draped in garments of mossy green and earthy browns, stepped through the southern gate. Behind him, a massive shadow loomed. The crowd gasped as the Wirefang Gretch appeared, its scaly body glinting darkly, its whip-like whiskers swaying with deadly grace.
The creature moved with a lizard-like fluidity, its powerful limbs tensed and ready to strike. Its mouth, filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth, opened in a low growl that reverberated through the coliseum.
Lithus approached the beast, his presence calm and commanding. Placing a hand on its massive head, he whispered something inaudible. The Gretch’s growl softened, its movements becoming still. Turning to Jesta, Lithus spoke in a voice that carried across the arena.
“Do not fear, champion. If you wish for this creature to be calm, it will be calm. Should you choose to yield, the fight will end. But know this: to defeat the Gretch is to face its fury and earn your place among the honored.”
Jesta nodded, her sharp eyes never leaving the creature.
Lithus stepped back, raising his arm in a sweeping gesture. The arena fell silent.
“Begin!”
The Gretch lunged forward, its massive body moving with surprising speed. Its tail lashed out, the whip-like whiskers slicing through the air with a sound like cracking thunder. Jesta darted to the side, her agility saving her from the razor-sharp tips that carved deep furrows into the sandy ground.
The creature reared back, its glowing amber eyes fixed on its prey. It lashed out again, its whiskers striking in rapid succession. Jesta ducked and weaved, her movements fluid and precise. The crowd watched in awe as she closed the distance between herself and the beast, her blade gleaming in the sunlight. With a quick slash, Jesta struck at the Gretch’s side, but its tough, scaly hide deflected the blow. The creature retaliated, snapping its powerful jaws dangerously close to her shoulder. Jesta rolled away, her breathing steady despite the close call.
Alyc’s heart pounded as she watched the battle unfold. “She’s incredible,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away.
Durk nodded, his expression unreadable. “This is just the beginning.” The Gretch changed tactics, circling Jesta with deliberate, predatory movements. Its whiskers lashed out in unpredictable patterns, forcing her to stay on the defensive. Sweat glistened on her brow as she studied the beast’s movements, her mind racing to find an opening.
Then, it struck. One of the Gretch’s whiskers snapped toward her, aiming to coil around her leg. Jesta leaped backward, narrowly avoiding its grasp. Her eyes flicked to the ground where the other whisker remained embedded, its sharp tip having struck too deep into the earth.
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A spark of realization crossed her face.
Jesta surged forward, her movements a blur of speed and precision. She climbed onto the immobilized whisker, using it as a makeshift path to close the distance between herself and the Gretch’s head. The crowd roared as she sprinted along the length of the whip-like appendage, her blade ready in her hand.
The creature thrashed violently, its attempts to dislodge her only driving its whisker deeper into the ground. Jesta balanced expertly, her focus unshakable.
With a final leap, she launched herself into the air, bringing her blade down in a powerful arc. The steel sank deep into the Gretch’s skull, silencing its growl with a guttural roar. The creature collapsed, its massive body hitting the ground with a resounding thud. For a moment, there was only silence. Then, the coliseum erupted into cheers, the sound deafening. Jesta stood atop the fallen beast, her chest heaving with exertion. She pulled her blade free and raised it high, her composure unbroken despite the gruelling fight.
The Seer stepped forward, her voice cutting through the noise. “Jesta Valance of Selenia, you have triumphed. Your time: 19 minutes and 37 seconds.”
The crowd’s cheers grew louder, chants of her name echoing through the arena. Jesta bowed slightly, her expression calm but her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
From her seat, Alyc clapped furiously, her admiration for the Selenian competitor growing with each passing moment. “She’s amazing,” she said breathlessly.
Durk nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “She’s earned this.”
As Jesta stepped to the side, her victory cemented in the hearts of the spectators, Alyc’s thoughts turned to the next competitor. The trial was far from over, and the challenges were only growing fiercer.
The coliseum hummed with anticipation as the Seer raised her hand, silencing the crowd. Her voice rang out, clear and authoritative, cutting through the din. “Our next challenger, Vienna Hast of Selenia, step forward.”
The eastern stands erupted in cheers, the Selenian colors of blue and gray waving proudly. Vienna emerged from the lineup, her movements serene and purposeful. Her silver hair caught the sunlight, and her calm, focused demeanor radiated an air of unshakable confidence.
Alyc leaned forward, captivated by the competitor’s poise. “She looks so calm,” she murmured to Durk.
Durk’s expression was thoughtful. “Calm can be a weapon. Watch closely.”
The Seer turned to Lithus, her silver eyes gleaming. “Lithus, bring forth the Stygon.” The arena gates creaked open, and from the shadows emerged Lithus, the Voice of the Earth. His presence was commanding as he stepped forward, his hand resting lightly on the monstrous creature that followed.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as the Stygon slithered into view. Its grotesque form was a nightmarish amalgamation of spider and snake, its armored thorax glinting in the sunlight. Six legs ended in dagger-like points, clattering against the stone floor, while its serpent-like head hissed, revealing venom-dripping fangs. A muscular tail trailed behind it, ending in a barbed point that lashed the air with deadly precision.
The beast loomed over Vienna, its glowing yellow eyes fixed on her with unsettling intelligence. Lithus placed a calming hand on its armored body, whispering softly. The creature stilled, its massive form relaxing under his touch.
“Do not underestimate this beast,” Lithus said, his voice deep and resonant. “It knows only to strike and to kill. But remember, if you yield, it will not harm you further.”
Vienna gave a small nod, her gaze unwavering as she drew her blade.
Lithus retreated to the edge of the arena, raising his arm to signal the start. “Begin!”
The Stygon moved first, lunging forward with a sudden burst of speed that belied its massive size. Its venomous fangs snapped inches from Vienna’s shoulder as she twisted to the side, her movements graceful and fluid.
The creature reared back, its barbed tail whipping toward her. Vienna ducked, her sword flashing as she struck at the tail. The blade glanced off the thick armor, and she adjusted her stance, her eyes scanning for weaknesses.
Alyc’s heart raced as she watched the clash unfold. Vienna moved like water, her strikes precise and deliberate. The Stygon hissed in frustration, its movements becoming more erratic as it failed to land a decisive blow.
“She’s not rushing,” Durk observed, his tone approving. “She’s waiting for the right moment.”
The Stygon circled Vienna, its legs clicking against the ground as its fangs dripped venom that sizzled where it landed. With a sudden burst of speed, it lunged again, its tail sweeping low to knock her off balance. Vienna leapt, her form a blur as she dodged the strike and retaliated with a quick slash to one of its legs.
The creature hissed in pain, black ichor oozing from the wound. It reared up, towering over her, and brought its dagger-like legs crashing down. Vienna rolled out of the way, her sword slicing through another limb as she moved.
The crowd roared as Vienna slid under the Stygon’s thorax, narrowly avoiding its venomous bite. Her blade flashed upward, slicing along the vulnerable underbelly. The beast screeched, a guttural sound that echoed through the coliseum as black blood poured from the gash.
But the Stygon wasn’t finished. It lashed its tail forward, the barbed tip catching Vienna’s armor and tearing a shallow cut across her side. She winced but didn’t falter, her movements growing more deliberate as she assessed her opponent’s diminishing strength.
The Stygon’s attacks grew desperate, its movements sluggish from the blood loss. Vienna seized the moment, launching herself onto its back. Her blade plunged into the base of its neck, driving deep into the soft tissue beneath the armored plating.
The creature let out one final, ear-splitting screech before collapsing, its massive body hitting the ground with a thunderous crash. Vienna stood atop its lifeless form, her sword dripping with black ichor.
The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, chants of her name rising from the Selenian stands. Vienna lifted her blade in triumph, her serene composure unbroken despite the grueling fight.
The Seer stepped forward, her voice cutting through the noise. “Vienna Hast of Selenia, you have triumphed. Your time: 18 minutes and 12 seconds.”
Alyc cheered so loudly that Durk chuckled, his stern demeanor softening. “You’re going to lose your voice at this rate,” he teased.
“She’s incredible,” Alyc said, her admiration for Vienna clear in her wide eyes.
Durk nodded. “That was a masterclass in patience and precision.”
As Vienna returned to the sidelines, her victory etched into the hearts of the spectators, Alyc’s attention turned to the next challenger. The Beast Trial was far from over, and the arena buzzed with anticipation for what was to come. The Seer raised her hand to quiet the crowd, her silver eyes glowing faintly in the midday sun. “Our next challenger,” she announced, her voice ringing through the coliseum, “Prigo Crest of Emberfall.”
The western stands erupted into cheers, though Alyc noticed they were less enthusiastic than they’d been for Vienna or Jesta. Prigo stepped forward from the lineup, his smug grin firmly in place as he cast a dismissive glance toward the crowd. His confidence bordered on arrogance, and Alyc couldn’t help but frown.
“Look at him,” she muttered to Durk. “He’s acting like he’s already won.”
Durk’s gaze was steady as he watched Prigo. “Confidence can be an asset, but overconfidence can be deadly.”
The arena gates groaned open once more, and Lithus emerged, his calm and commanding presence drawing the attention of the crowd. Behind him lumbered the Droge, a towering beast that looked as though it had been forged from the earth itself.
The creature’s bark-like skin was thick and gnarled, its hulking frame brimming with raw, unrelenting power. Its claws, each the size of a sword, raked the ground with a slow, deliberate menace. It let out a low growl, its glowing amber eyes scanning the arena before settling on Prigo.
Lithus approached the Droge, placing a hand on its massive head. The beast stilled instantly, its growl quieting to a deep rumble. “This is the Droge,” Lithus said, his voice calm but firm. “Its strength is unmatched, its endurance legendary. But like all creatures, it respects power and resolve. Show it yours, or yield before it can claim your life.”
Prigo didn’t respond. He simply rolled his shoulders, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword as he watched the Droge with an unreadable expression. Lithus stepped back, signaling the start of the trial. The Droge roared, its powerful legs propelling it forward with surprising speed. It swiped one massive claw at Prigo, but he leapt back, evading the strike with ease. The crowd cheered at the start of the battle, but their excitement quickly turned to confusion as Prigo continued to dodge every attack without drawing his weapon.
The Droge growled in frustration, slamming its claws into the ground and sending tremors through the arena floor. Prigo sidestepped the attack, his movements fluid and precise, but he made no move to strike back.
“What’s he doing?” Alyc asked, her brow furrowed.
Durk’s jaw tightened. “He’s toying with it.”
The Droge roared again, its bark-like skin glinting as it twisted to strike at Prigo with its massive claws. Each attack was met with an effortless dodge, and the crowd began to boo. The once-energetic atmosphere turned restless as Prigo danced around the creature, refusing to engage.
Minutes dragged by, and the Droge grew visibly agitated, its strikes becoming more erratic as Prigo continued his evasive maneuvers. The crowd’s boos grew louder, their frustration echoing through the coliseum.
“Fight it already!” someone shouted from the stands.
Even Jesta, standing on the sidelines, crossed her arms with a bemused smirk. “What’s his game?” she muttered, just loud enough for Vienna to hear.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Prigo leapt back, putting significant distance between himself and the Droge. For the first time, he drew his sword, its blade gleaming in the sunlight.
Alyc leaned forward, her heart pounding. “Is he finally going to ”
Prigo hurled the sword with deadly precision. The blade soared through the air, piercing the Droge’s head with a sickening crack. The creature let out a guttural roar before collapsing to the ground, its massive frame hitting the arena floor with a thunderous crash.
The crowd fell silent, stunned by the abrupt end to the battle. Prigo smirked, raising his hands to the crowd as if he expected applause. Instead, the silence was broken by a few scattered boos and murmurs of disbelief.
The Seer stepped forward, her expression unreadable as she addressed Prigo. “Prigo Crest of Emberfall, you have completed the trial in 18 minutes and 13 seconds.”
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as the Seer’s voice rang out again. “You have been eliminated. Vienna Hast of Selenia holds the faster time and will represent Emberfall in the final trial.”
Alyc’s jaw dropped, her gaze darting between Prigo and the Seer. The smug grin on Prigo’s face faltered for only a moment before he regained his composure. He gave a mocking bow to the crowd, his arrogance intact despite the announcement.
“Did he just… lose on purpose?” Alyc asked, her voice incredulous.
Durk’s expression darkened. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, his tone grim. “But I don’t like it.”
Prigo walked off the arena floor, his confidence unshaken as he joined the King’s entourage. From the sidelines, Jesta laughed softly, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”
The coliseum buzzed with whispers and speculation, the crowd struggling
