Samantha was running along a river embankment with miniscule Hackalope’s and Duvolf’s nipping at her heels yet never able to catch up. She dived into the river falling below the water’s surface before emerging once again a humongous version of herself. Mega Samantha stomped around the vile and uninteresting forest crushing all boring trees beneath her gargantuan feet. She laughed maniacally while fires erupted from nowhere casting the sky in red and orange lights. All of a sudden, a glimmering figure appeared in the distance to oppose the gargantuan girl although they were too small for her to identify. The figure reared back a single hand and tossed something high into the air. The giant tried to follow the objects trajectory as it reached the heavens then fell towards her. Just before impact, the world collapsed, and she fell into its dark depths.
Samantha was cruelly ripped from dreamland by a loud screech forcing her awake amongst the series of chains that no longer choking the life out of her. She attempted to free herself from the precarious position but found she was still securely entangled. After struggling for some time she ceased her futile resistance, dangling helplessly from the ceiling again. A short time later a gentle snoring began to fill the room until the chains dropped the girl halfway to the floor startling her for the second time. Samantha attempted another fruitless escape until a voice resounded within her mind.
“Why do you rest?”
It was eloquent if airy and sounded like it could be carried away on the wind. Samantha tried looking around for the source but could find no one. Attempting the best shrug she could manage, she loudly answered hoping the voice could hear her.
“I was bored.”
Being forced against the ceiling wasn’t as thrilling as it sounded. Samantha hung there for what felt like hours waiting for something to happen. Her poor sense of timing struck again as she had barely been on the roof for sixty seconds before falling asleep. When at a complete rest and nothing else to do she fell back to the tried-and-true past time of her days in the mine: dozing. After no time at all she found her precarious position was a little comfortable compared to the many other places she catnapped. Not plush bed comfy, more twigs and dirt comfortable which after a long day of walking might as well have been like sleeping on the clouds themselves. She didn’t even feel the chains writhing against her back or the barbed one digging into her leg after a while. The voice remained silent for a second soaking in the reply before addressing the helpless girl again.
“Why do you not attempt the trial?”
“Trial? What trial? What am I on trial for?!”
Samantha shot back at the accusatory question. Silence descended yet again as the voice likely sat back and rubbed at its temple, if it had any that is. Rather than answer her, Samantha was lowered like a puppet on strings until her head became level with the brass plaque. She stared at the metal poster looking at the lines and squiggles again trying to determine if there was some picture showing what she had to do or an indent she needed to place a mystical artifact into. On second thought, no it likely wasn’t that second option as no indent was visible and more importantly where would she find a mystical artifact at this time of day? With more freedom she was able to swing herself forward tapping onto the plaque and unleashing a triumphant ‘aha’ in the process. She waited for something to happen while slowly moving back and forth like the world’s worst pendulum. When no change occurred from her genius actions the voice spoke again, more agitated than it rightly ought to be.
“You must READ the plaque, not tap it.”
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Samantha let out an ‘ooooh’ finally understanding the trial and focused back on the plaque until she remembered an important fact.
“Wait, I don’t know how to read.”
As a mentor James was many things, astute, knowledgeable, considerate, patient to a fault, however well educated in the arts of reading and writing he was not. That cabin had a number of weapons, training gear and medical supplies but not a single book from which anyone could learn from. Were Samantha a philosopher or a boring conversationalist she may have commented on how this reflected society at large. There was a painfully awkward minute of silence that followed Samantha’s revelation in which she believed the voice may have simply left. She listened carefully for any distant door slams and the distinct sound of a carriage taking off. Neither occurred and the girl was violently dragged back to the ceiling while a booming a voice shook the entire room.
“LET THE TETHERS THAT BIND BE NOT A SINGLE LINK BUT A SERIES OF UNBREAKABLE CONNECTIONS WRAPPED AROUND THY SOUL. LET THE FETTERS THAT EXTEND OUT BE ALL ENCOMPASSING AND ETHEREAL. LET THE SHACKLES THAT SINGS TO YOUR CORE BECOME THE START IN AN ALL-ENCIRCLING CHAIN OF EVENTS.”
Samantha marvelled at the theatrics of her captor; she tried to clap but her hands were still seperated so could only whoop in excitement. That was all she did creating yet another awkward silence until the voice spoke again sounding defeated.
“You must pick the correct chain.”
Finally understanding the trial Samantha glanced around the room. First to the chains still jutting up from the floor, then to those wriggling around her and back again. Following an agonizingly long five minutes of debate she declared her answer.
“uh… It’s this one.”
She was unable to make any move to point at her final decision which frustrated the voice yet again.
“Which one?”
The chains around Samantha’s arms slackened and she was able to free them to point at the chain of her choice. Instead, she gripped two distinctly different ones around her waist and explained her answer.
“It’s this one. It’s the same chain so it doesn’t matter which one I pick because they’re all connected right?”
The writhing chains froze following her answer until slowly loosening their grip dropping the captive girl to the ground. A doorway that hadn’t existed earlier appeared where the plaque once stood, a rush of wind pulling at her cloak and hair inviting her in. With nowhere else to go Samantha walked through the door expecting the room behind her to disappear yet it remained open, the chains on the ground moving as if drawn towards the girl. Another boring and long corridor extended out but thankfully this time she had a buddy to converse with.
“How did you figure it out?”
The voice asked with genuine curiosity. The secret of the trial was that there was no end nor beginning to the chains. They all looped around one another and either disappeared into the mass overhead or the holes dotted across the floor. A careful observer would have noticed that shifting one chain would cause another to grow tighter. The cloud cover above was simply a means to help obfuscate this fact and make the numerous chains appear distinct from one another. Samantha did not know any of this however and simply answered in typical Samantha fashion.
“I dunno, I guessed.”
The voice said nothing in quiet dismay. Eventually Samantha reached an altar whereupon a length of rusted chains sat coiled around itself like an old metal ball. A plaque rested below the altar and rather than read out the fancy wording the voice unenthusiastically summarized the details.
“You have passed the trial and have earned the right to wield your chosen chain. Know that accepting this boon will come with a cost. When you are on the brink of death all the personal bonds you have made along your journey will be severed and none shall mourn your passing.”
Samantha cupped her chin and stared at the chains trying to figure out the voice’s toned down but still colourfully delivered words. First, could she refuse the chain? She had no reason to refuse but, it was a chain, what could she do with a chain? Could she of all people use chains as a weapon? Would she be able to learn how? What was that part about morning too? What did the time of day have to do with her death? She did not wonder or worry if this was just another trap, the last one didn’t really work out for the voice and she believed it was just as keen for her to leave as she was. Not to mention there was still the matter of her death appointment, even if she stayed here for a hundred years it wouldn’t matter, she was absolutely certain she would leave to fulfil her role, whatever it was. When in doubt death will see you out, that was Samantha motto not that anyone had ever asked. Thinking about her prophecy again brought her back to the image of her death, so many details were unclear like how, when, where it occurred. There was also the matter of those black squiggles that circled around like a bunch of-
“Oh!”
Clarity suddenly came to her and she unhesitantly took the chain into her hands feeling new power flood her body. While it wasn’t clear if her death was in the morning, she foresaw the moment of her passing with all new insight. Alongside the vague destruction, fires and mayhem she saw a new feature sharpen revealing its nature. A series of dark chains erupting from every shadow tore at debris and whipped around in a flurry adding to the chaos. She may not know how to use chains now, but she could learn and adapt as she moved ever closer to her fateful day of reckoning.