Clarence watches as the victors run forth. Hundreds of them swarm toward the ravine, some use magic to get there quicker, others simply break out into a mad sprint to reach the next trial as fast as possible.

  He wipes the blood from Trinity's Thorn with a black handkerchief, and he’s careful as to not cut himself with it.

  Clarence stands at the edge of the arena, looking far and wide for his cousin. "Clara?" he calls, voice as loud as he can make it. "Clara! Are you there? Claaaaaraaaa!" He lets the last syllable trail into a wail, then hops down onto the cracked earth below.

  He sets off at brisk jog, making his way between the arenas. It’s not long before the first complication arises. Three men, all enormous, and tattooed in a similar fashion to the man Clarence had just defeated in the last trial.

  The one in the lead waves, a gesture that comes off as friendly, but Clarence just doesn’t trust it. "Hey buddy, you lost?"

  The second man, one with an axe on his back that looks like it was meant to split men in half, grins at Clarence with a toothless smile. "You’re lookin’ for someone, right? Come with us, we’ll help you find em." He steps forward, and grabs a hold of the handle of his weapon.

  Clarence glances behind them and there’s a trail of blood leaking out from behind the corner of the arena. That's when Clarence sees the third man in the group. His nose is gushing blood.

  "Every was healed at the end of the second trial, so why's that guys nose broken? Were you fighting after the trial ended?..."

  "Hm...I ain’t got time for this shit! Just kill the boy. The less competition we have for the Divine Aspect, the better!"

  All three charge at once, and Clarence throws his hands forward. He isn't as comfortable with necromancy as is was with pyromancy, but he is still a Crowsong. Bloody bone fragments launch forth from the pile of blood just out of sight, pelting the men. Clarence snaps his fingers, and the blood ignites, a curtain of fire hiding him from sight.

  "The kid’s a necromancer!" the man with the axe shouts, but Clarence is already on them, rapier drawn, cutting through the flames with a flurry of strikes. He gets the axed menace twice, each stab is precise and light. Clarence’s goal is not to land a killing blow, but just for the weapon's passive ability to activate.

  Just as he’s about to stab a third time, an axe shines overhead through the flames. Clarence tries to dodge, but he loses his footing as a gale knocks him back. The three men are pinned to the ground, and then a small, woodland creature flies straight into Clarence’s arms. It hits him with enough force to knock him off his feet.

  "Sen!" Clarence hugs the dryad, who chirps and gestures wildly at the ravine.

  "Yeah, yeah, I get it," Clarence says, running away as the wind holds his assailants back. "Do you know where Clara is?"

  Sen pulls a leaf seemingly out of nowhere, and points at a second stone pillar with an arena on top. It’s far too tall to see what’s going on up there, but Clarence simply clicks his tongue.

  "Of course that’s where she’d be. You think you could fly up there and check? Or, you know, maybe we just run away and wait-"

  Sen slaps him, hard, with a tiny but surprisingly painful hand. An angry string of chirps follows.

  "Okay, okay, fine! We keep going." Clarence reaches the ravine, where a crowd has already formed. The people at the front are being pushed by the people at the back, and every so often a body goes over, followed by a scream and then a thud.

  Clarence watches as a man wreathed in holy light steps to the edge, voice booming. "My faith in the holy Saint, Evelyn, will guide me across!" He takes a single stride into empty air, and then plummets. The scream lasts just long enough to be awkward, then ends in a wet crunch.

  Everyone standing anywhere remotely close to the edge takes a collective step back.

  Sen holds his leaf aloft, then a gust of wind kicks up as he takes flight. Clarence clings to Sen for dear life as the two hover above the crowd, and begin to make their way across the ravine. "Seriously? We’re just gonna go right across? Sen, you’re the best!" Clarence shouts, and Sen chirps, smugly.

  They don’t make it very far before Clarence feels a pair of hands clamp around his ankles. He looks down to see a girl with frizzy blue hair. Actually everything about her is blue, and she’s dangling from his legs. Sen lets out a panicked squeak, and their altitude drops.

  "S-Sen, there’s a girl hanging on to me! What do I do?"

  Sen kicks Clarence in the chest a handful of times, as if demonstrating what to do.

  "I’m not going to kick her off!" Clarence yells. He looks down at the girl. "Hey, can you let go? We can’t get across with you hanging onto me!"

  She scoffs, voice high and wild. "If I let go then I’ll die, you idiot! You pretty much told me to kill myself while I’m trying to save you!" She adjusts her grip, then an electric shock surges through her hands, through Clarence, and into Sen.

  They three begin to spin out of control, tumbling end over end. As they fall, another adventurer glides past, using aeromancy of his own, but halfway across the ravine, he hits something. A wall, an invisible barrier. His top half explodes in a spray of red. The remaining half of his body which is now just a pair of legs, falls past them and into the ravine below.

  Sen manages a crash landing, slamming them into a ledge about two thirds the way down the ravine. They roll, bounce, and slide the rest of the way down into the ravines pit, ending up in a jumble of bodies. The blue haired girl is first to her feet, and she’s dusting herself off.

  Sen is up on his feet too, and he plants himself in front of the girl, leaf raised like a cudgel as he hisses at her.

  "Wait, Sen, look up!" Clarence shouts, grabbing hold of the dryad's tiny arm. Above, another adventurer tries to jump the ravine, only to smack into that same invisible barrier. The sound is worse this time, and what’s left of the man slides down the length of a barrier in a red smear before his remains land in the ravine with a wet splat.

  Sen lowers his leaf, mortified, and the blue haired girl cackles. "Hah! I saved your life, now we’re even, you weird little tree creature!" She smacks Sens leaf aside, and stands tall with her hands on her hips.

  "I’m sorry, but who are you? And how do you know Sen?" Clarence asks.

  "I am Isalithe Skywhisper! Master of the skies!"

  Clarence snorts. He tries to hold it in, he really does, but the laugh just forces its way out. "Skywhisper? That’s not even a real name! It sounds like something straight out of fantasy."

  Isalithe’s hands curl up into balls at her sides, and sparks of blue electricity jump from fist to fist. "It’s better than Crowsong! That’s a fake name if I’ve ever heard one."

  She flops onto a rock, and then pants for air. Clarence simply watches her. Now that he’s closer, he sees she’s drenched in sweat, her chest heaves with each breath.

  "Wait, how do you know I’m a Crowsong? And what are you so tired for?"

  Isalithe rolls her eyes.

  "How do I know the only person not dressed like a marauder or a homeless vagrant is of high standing? You’re practically glowing with privilege. Also your friend here beat me in the last trial and threw me like twenty miles away! I’ve been running back here ever since I hit the ground."

  "You can throw people twenty miles but can’t carry two across a ravine?" Clarence asks.

  Sen emits a shamed squeak.

  "It’s called an exaggeration, genius. I thought Crowsongs were supposed to be scholars of the mystic arts, kings of death, even! I don’t know, smart?"

  "Hey, I’m plenty smart! You’re the one who lost to Sen!" Clarence hugs the dryad, who hisses at Isalithe. "Also, he’s not a tree."

  "He’s whatever the fu-"

  The argument is interrupted by a body landing between them with a sickening bang.

  Sen claws his way onto Clarence’s back, peering over his shoulder at the fresh corpse.

  Isalithe stands and dusts herself off. "We’re going to have to climb if we want to pass this trial. Better get moving before more bodies drop on us. C’mon, Sen, and whoever you are."

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "Are all girls supposed to be this mean?" Clarence mutters, and follows along behind Isalithe.

  Sen emits a resigned squeak, thinking back on all the times that Valoria had yelled at him for almost getting killed. No matter how hard he tried, he could never bring himself to attack strangers, and this led to Valoria having to save his life on more than one occasion.

  They don’t get far before Isalithe’s foot gives out underneath her and she collapses to the ground. She turns back to Clarence and barks out an order. "You there, Crowsong! It appears that I twisted my ankle when we landed earlier. You’re going to have to-"

  Clarence already has an arm around Isalithe’s body, and is helping her to her feet.

  She leans on him, and limps forward. After a while, she glances over at him, "So what happened to your face? The burn mark, I mean."

  "Why are you so nosy?"

  "I like being in the know," Isalithe says, and simply shrugs.

  "Well, too bad."

  When they reach the cliff wall, Clarence stares up its length.

  "Why is this called a ravine anyways? Ravines are supposed to be small, aren’t they? This is more like a canyon."

  "Wow, I’m surprised you know the difference. The people of Brindle don’t though, and they’re the ones that named it."

  Clarence steps forward and grabs a hold of a rock. He tries to climb, but just as quickly gives up. It’s far too steep for someone of his caliber to ascend.

  "Sen’s going to have to take me up first, and then he can come back for you."

  Above, a man hauls himself across the ravine on a rope. He seems to have dangled just underneath the barrier that floats in the air. As soon as he gets across he begins to wave down those on the other side. Another man grabs hold of the rope and starts pulling himself across. Once he reaches the halfway point though, the rope is cut, and the man screams before hitting the stonewall face first.

  Isalithe turns on Clarence, shaking her head aggressively. "No, no, nope, nuh-uh, I’m going first, or nobody's going!"

  A low hiss draws their attention. One of the bodies has begun to swell, and turn black. Gases leak out of numerous holes in the body as it inflates and begins to float toward them menacingly. A second, then a third, appear. The gases thicken in the air, turning into liquid spray that splashes across the stones beneath them. The stone melts away instantly, and Clarence is reminded of Valerius’s own magic.

  Clarence torches the nearest creature with a fireball; it shrivels in on itself instantly.

  Isalithe nails the next with a bolt of lightning, and it deflates too.

  "We’re skinning these things and using them to float up," Isalithe says, breathless as she dives forward on one foot.

  "How is that supposed to work?!"

  "Just skin it!"

  Clarence pulls out his rapier and starts sawing through the nearest monster's hide, but after three cuts, it ignites, spraying caustic vapor into the air. Clarence shields himself as best he can, and lets out a grunt as the liquid burns through his sleeves. He yanks his jacket off, and throws it away instantly.

  "Seriously, this thing works on corpses too? It works a little too well… Isalithe, you’re going to have to be the one to skin it!!"

  "You completely destroyed it! Seriously, you can’t even follow simple instructions, what’s wrong with you," Isalithe groans, and zaps another of the floating monsters. "Protect me while I work! Sen, don’t use any more magic until I tell you to. You woodland creatures use all your mana up in a few seconds and then you’re worthless for a week. I know you’re running low!"

  Sen lets out an annoyed squeak, but listens, opting to stay perched to Clarence’s shoulders instead.

  Isalithe lunges at another body, this time using her wand to zap through the edges with precision. Clarence follows close behind, and begins hurling fireballs at any of the creatures that float near. There’s easily dozens of them by this point, and the next one that bursts nearly coats him in its acidic liquid. They’re getting too close to keep killing, but he needs to do something.

  For a moment, Clarence thinks about simply fleeing. It would be easy. Isalithe is distracted, and she is clearly a smart individual. She’d figure something out even if they ran away now, right?

  As if sensing his thoughts, Sen begins to bang on the back of Clarence’s head.

  Clarence looks at her once more. Her ankle is a dark shade of purple, and it’s swelling. It must have happened during their fall into the ravine, when she saved them... She's taken charge of the situation, and is fighting so earnestly despite being completely exhausted herself. Clarence on the other hand still has so much more to give.

  "I need a spell that won't attack the body directly, but the soul itself. Pyromancy is my go to magic, but..." Clarence murmurs to himself quickly, and ducks under another spray of liquid.

  His mother had told him stories of his father, of the magic he used in his time. The amount of spells that one can learn is finite. It’s limited to one's body, mana-core, and their soul. If you possessed 100 spells, and were to learn how to fuse them together, the possibilities number in the thousands. If you fuse three spells at once, the possibilities number in the hundred thousands.

  You’d have to be at least a member of the Dread Requiem to successfully fuse two spells together. Clarence’s brother, Nathaniel, was the only exception to this rule, having performed the feat whilst only in the Eternal Requiem.

  Nathaniel was also a genius though.

  Clarence on the other hand lacks brains, and power, but he would just have to make up for both of those with tenacity.

  "Fireball." A blazing ball of flame forms in Clarence’s left hand, and then he holds out his right. "Soul Si-"

  Clarence feels his mana-core stutter in his chest, and his world instantly grows hazy. He falls to a knee and the spells cancel each other out. The monsters are drawing near, and Isalithe hasn’t finished skinning the creature yet. Clarence can smell fresh sap, and looks up to see that a small part of Sens wooden arm is leaking. He must have been hit by the monsters spray at some point.

  Clarence looks to the top of the ravine, and another body plummets down below, only adding to the monster's ranks.

  Clara is not coming to save him this time.

  Clarence tries once more, and this time he feels himself become physically winded. He’s never been good as a necromancer. Not in the slightest. Pyromancy was difficult in its own right, but necromancy was especially hard for him. He simply wasn’t built for it.

  "Creating a fireball is fine, but sustaining it while trying to conjure up Soul Siphon is beyond me… So what if I reverse the order of operations? I know the spell I’m aiming for, but it can’t be too different with necromancy as the base spell, can it?"

  "Soul Siphon…" In Clarence’s left hand, a small white sphere appears.

  "...Fireball," Clarence grunts out under his breath, and a measly fireball sputters into life, but just as quickly goes out as Clarence grunts in pain. His mana-core pulsates to an erratic beat in his chest, and so does his heart. Fresh blood begins to run from his nose and he collapses to both his knees this time. He bangs his fist against the ground until it too bleeds, and he looks up. They’re upon him now, and he still needs to buy time.

  There is still one more thing he can try though. What was holding him back wasn’t potential, or capability. He knows he can do it, but what’s holding him back is this pain he’s feeling. Tenacity alone isn’t enough. What Clarence needs is brute force.

  "I will buy the time I need, regardless of the cost to myself. I will perform Spell Fusion, and I won’t stop. Even if it hurts, even if it breaks me, I will see this through. This, I swear to myself on my very soul!"

  A Soulpact made by Clarence, for Clarence.

  He rises to his feet once more, and mutters the first spell under his breath. The white, inky tendrils of Soul Siphon forms with some effort, and then then the burning Fireball appears in his other hand. It hurts, it feels like every blood vessel in his body is about to burst. Tears begin to mix with thick blood that runs from the corners of his eyes, his arms don’t want to move, but he forces them together regardless.

  The ball of fire melds away into the white tendrils, and he’s left holding something new in his hands. A spell beyond the bounds of his imagining. He holds his hands out, palms upright, as if this were something holy he was offering to his enemies, and then it acts of its own accord.

  Whips of necrotic flame leave the orb of light, and strike every monster present, enveloping them in balls of ivory fire. There’s dozens of monsters surrounding him now, and his vision wavers. He feels like he has to puke. It hurts, it hurts a lot. The monsters try to escape, they thrash, and throw their bodies against the spheres of necrotic flame that have captured them. Clarence's spell simply tightens in response, squeezing the very essence of their souls from their bodies.

  Clarence watches as the tendrils fill with bits of their souls, and fill the orb in his hands. It isn't until the last of the monsters stops moving that he realizes he's been holding his breath this whole time.

  Despite being his first time casting such a spell, Clarence instinctively knows its name as if it were an extension of himself.

  "Ash Leech," Clarence mutters, and finally, the Soulpact is fulfilled. The spell dies out instantly and Clarence falls to his knees, utterly drained. He drops the orb on the ground, and when it cracks, all that's left inside is ash. He looks up to see dozens of lifeless husks fall to the ground around him, each already deflated.

  The attack had targeted their soul instead of their bodies, so none of them exploded into a spray of liquid.

  Isalithe grabs a hold of Clarence, and swings the creature's skin high in the air. The vapor runs down from it and burns into her hands, but she holds on as the skin spreads out. It’s huge and heavy, but hollow and inflatable.

  "Good job, Crowsong! Put your arms around me! Tree, give us some wind!" Isalithe shouts. Sen listens, and the skin inflates instantly.

  Clarence clings to Isalithe's waist as best he can, and Sen wedges himself between them. Together, they push off from the ground, taking flight with this balloon-like skin.

  They soar to the top of the ravine, but the skin catches on a jagged rock, hurling the three of them higher until they land in a heap on solid ground. Clarence opens his eyes to find Isalithe on top of him, grinning.

  "We're across the ravine? We're across the ravine! I can't believe we did it! My plan actually worked! I am a brilliant tactician!"

  "Do you always talk yourself up this much?..." Clarence asks.

  "Only when it's warranted. You know what? You two are my faithful lackeys now!" Isalithe cries, and then falls forward onto Clarence’s frame, unconscious.

  Clarence looks down to see Isalithe's hand. Bits of bone can be seen shining through from where the monsters skin melted it away.

  Clarence leans his head back and closes his eyes, a hand over his blushing face. "You must have passed out from the pain, but yeah, sure, being your lackey wouldn't be too..."

  He's unable to get another word out, because he passes out too due to exhaustion.

  Sen, still crushed between them, chirps in protest as he attempts to free himself.