The dawn sunlight traced the fortress walls, adorned with hints of blue lichen, announcing the imminent event. Neophytes assembled at the entrance of the trials’ path, the anticipation hanging in the air. This was the pivotal moment to showcase the skills honed through years of training and ascend to the esteemed ranks of the Azur`s elite.
Mentors observed the youthful, eager expressions, choosing their words carefully. They held back from offering unnecessary advice, recognizing that for most of their apprentices, the day’s challenges might prove insurmountable, and no guidance would change that fate.
The arrival of a blood mage was not likely to go unnoticed, causing even the few ongoing conversations to gradually fall silent. Inquisitive glances converged on the slender figure in a simple tunic, clutching a bundle to her chest.
The girl’s gaze turned to the hill entwined with petrified roots. The earth in this place had long lacked moisture, resulting in dry, cracked soil. Robust woody shoots emerged from the pressure of the earth’s thickness, weaving into sturdy knots. Those who had passed the trial knew what awaited beyond, but their mouths were sealed.
Imber placed a reassuring hand on Cassia’s shoulder. “I will be awaiting your success,” his firm voice resounded. “Remember, trust nothing, and do not turn back. Once you’ve chosen the path, go all the way.”
Cassia turned to her brother, freeing herself from his strong grip. “Maybe I don’t have the most useful ability, but at least I know what to expect, unlike most participants.” Her thin, dark eyebrows furrowed as she glanced toward the area.
The blood mage followed the gaze of the servant. Less than half of the young warriors had undergone Illumination, awakening their abilities. Suri shivered, pressing the bundle tighter to her chest, as she approached Imber and Cassia. “It seems I made it just in time,” her hoarse voice sounded.
Cassia straightened up and bowed. Suri had not been able to rid her of this habit.
“Those who wish to witness the trials are gathering in the main hall,” Cassia reminded, directing a puzzled look at the mage. It was unclear what Suri had been up to lately, but she appeared exhausted.
“Yes, of course, but I had to keep my promise,” Suri muttered. “Catch.”
The bundle landed in Cassia’s hand. Unfurling the warm fabric, she stared in astonishment at the exquisitely crafted dagger. Her slender fingers confidently gripped the hilt. The weapon, never before tasting the thrill of battle, eagerly sliced through the air. Heat spread from the blade to the hilt, transferring to its wielder. Familiar living patterns flared on a cold surface, casting red glints.
“Fire,” Suri murmured with satisfaction. If this could be of help, then the precious time spent was worth it. “I’m not a great teacher; that’s the best I could come up with,” she continued, tiredly rubbing her temples.
The dagger leapt into the girl’s hands with an almost supernatural grace, as if it were reuniting with a long-lost companion. A masterpiece of the guild’s artistry, crafted for a blood mage.
“Cas,” her brother’s voice snapped her out of the enchanting trance. “If this is what I suspect it to be, then it’s a treasure.” His eyes scrutinized the cold, gleaming weapon. The longer he gazed upon it, the more incredulous he became at the unfolding reality before him.
“It’s worth a try, but there’s no time for experimentation now,” Suri advised. “From my observations, I’m certain it’ll only endure for a single activation. Do not wield it in vain.”
The explosive force confined within the steel casing instilled confidence in Cassia. That alone seemed sufficient for her.
“Will it not be like last time?” she questioned.
“You’ll find out when you try. Only, the dagger won’t survive it,” Suri remarked with a playful smile. “Well, no big deal. I’ll give you another when you pass the trials.”
Cassia pressed her red lips together. For a few moments, she remained frozen in contemplation. Finally, taking a deep breath, she bowed low. As a servant, she used to such gestures, but for the first time, she bowed with genuine intent.
“I will triumph in the trials and emerge as a hunter,” Cassia declared, her voice tinged with excitement and a hint of tremor.
A smile curved on Suri’s lips, and her blue eyes glittered with anticipation. “It`s a promise.”
Sunlight bathed the trials’ path, and Archmage Velda emerged alongside another savant. The slender, pale mentats formed a striking contrast against the sun-kissed and weathered faces of the Order’s neophytes. The Archmage gestured towards the arranged stone tables, and her companion spilled the bag’s contents onto them.
“I will unlock the path once you take the amulets,” a prior declared, motioning towards the crude pendants crafted from yellow crystal. “They won’t assist you in passing the trials, but they will unveil your fate. As the sun sets, the path will reopen. Failure to find the way out by then will lead you to reunite with the Heart.”
The woman surveyed the silent and determined young warriors. Spotting her apprentice in the crowd, she chuckled and proceeded towards the sealed passage. Slashing her palm, a prior touched the petrified roots. Crimson liquid seeped into the smooth surface, revealing a narrow, dark passage.
“Choose your path wisely! May the Heart be merciful to you!” she shouted, stepping aside. The neophytes hurried into the passage, as if the first had a greater chance of success than the others. Imber ruffled Cassia’s hair and nudged her towards the entrance. She took a few steps and turned around, her gaze fixated on her brother’s right hand concealed beneath the folds of his cloak. With determination shining in her eyes, she nodded to herself and headed towards the entrance.
As the last participant vanished into the passage, formidable roots entwined, closing the path to the surface.
The Archmage released the savant and approached her apprentice. “You devoted considerable time to crafting that dagger, only to give it to that girl?” she asked.
Suri kept her eyes fixed on the entrance, as if she could see Cassia’s back. “It was always meant for her from the very beginning.”
“Do you comprehend the potential repercussions for the hunters? And you handed it to a girl who may not survive the day.” The Archmage frowned, her voice tinged with displeasure. “Thank the sky you abstained from the trials yourself. Your circumstance differs from hers.”
“Because I’m a blood mage?” Suri inquired.
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“You heard it yourself. She can choose a path. You can’t. Unless you’re prepared to face the needle?”
A repulsive, putrid smell assaulted Suri’s nose. No matter how much time passed, the memories of encountering the needle at the gates remained vivid. How could anyone be ready to face such a monstrous creature?
“Why is that monster there?” Suri frowned, fear evident in her eyes, and the Archmage didn’t miss it.
“I wasn’t initially interested in the trials, but with so many eager spectators, I’ll guide you to the main hall,” the woman uttered, adjusting her perfectly arranged turban. Her gaze shifted to the pallid Imber. Despite everything, the man persisted in waiting for his sister’s return.
“Thank you, mentor,” Suri expressed her gratitude.
“Oh, nonsense,” the woman waved off and strolled ahead with a light step. She didn’t need to find an excuse to keep company. But no one would dare say that to a prior.
***
The main hall buzzed with formidable figures, creating a stifling atmosphere that made it difficult to breathe. Representatives of the hunter’s squad watched the trials, identifying new talents.
For Suri, a member of the Savants Circle, the majority of faces in the hall remained unfamiliar. With genuine curiosity, she observed the novel countenances, oblivious to the ripple effect of her own presence. However, a sudden realization gripped her when she caught the interest from a woman clad in tight leather armor. The woman`s body shimmered with the ethereal glow of two distinct sources of blue flames, an unmistakable signature of blood mages. She flashed a predatory grin and beckoned Suri with a finger.
“Well, sister, I see we understand each other,” a familiar insinuating voice echoed through the hall. “Sometimes, I find it equally challenging to restrain myself.”
Maxat lazily leaned against the back of a stone chair. A friendly smile graced his lips when he caught Suri’s gaze, sending shivers down the girl’s spine.
“You already have a mage,” the woman quipped, pointing with a sharp nail at the cloaked figure sitting in the chair in front of Maxat. “Don’t you want to share?” Her dark eyes gleamed. She wasn’t asking; she was asserting.
“Don’t scare me, beauty,” Maxat raised his hands in a theatrically defensive gesture. “You know I can’t influence another mage’s decisions. Tilek decides for himself. Am I right?” he addressed the man in the chair. But, the man didn’t even stir, let alone respond.
“See?” Maxat’s smile remained undiminished as he directed it towards the woman. “And as for her,” the mage continued, nodding in Suri’s direction. “She’s here, not there. So, which one of them is the mage?” His hand gestured towards the center of the room on the massive table.
In response, the woman snorted and turned away.
Undeterred by the mage’s attitude, the Archmage pointed to the prepared seats and proceeded toward them without hesitation. Suri and Imber followed suit.
“Bloody earth! Two have already lost their breath! And these are the future hunters for our squads?!” a warrior with a jagged scar on his cheek roared, thumping his fist on the table.
“What are you expecting from rookies?” the lanky warrior shrugged. He grasped a glass of green liquid with long fingers and took a sip. “Oh, another core for the Heart.”
In the center of the hall, a colossal stone table ascended, its surface adorned with a relief carving: a faithful replica of the trials’ path. Dozens of exquisitely cut yellow crystals dangled from delicate silvery chains, suspended over the intricate relief. Three crystals dimmed, while the remaining ones gracefully shifted their positions.
Tilek, the second blood mage of the first rank, approached the table. With a delicate finger, the man tapped one of the crystals moving along the path with more confidence than the rest. The surface of the yellow stone rippled, and above the relief, a blurred image of the participant’s surroundings materialized.
Crooked roots covered the walls of the narrow passage, illuminated by drifting blue flashes. Branches and gnarled roots sticking out in all directions hindered the neophyte’s movement, forming a dense barrier behind him. With each step, the pace of the young warrior quickened until he broke into a run. The faster he tried to free himself from the living roots, the quicker they closed in behind him.
“Ah,” the scarred warrior waved his hand. “He’s under the sway of an illusion. Look at him, unaware of the traps.”
The blue lights dissipated, and the roots froze. Soft yellow light filled the tunnel, emanating from a rough pendant. Oblivious to the changes in the surroundings, the terrified young warrior continued along the path, tearing his hands on thorns protruding from the walls.
Snapped his fingers again, Tilek dispelling the illusion. Losing interest in the proceedings, he stepped away from the table and returned to his chair. Suri turned her puzzled gaze to Imber. He pointed his finger at the crystal, and it extinguished right before their eyes.
“Cassia’s crystal?” Suri whispered with parted lips. Imber shook his head.
The hall erupted in loud laughter. The scarred warrior pointed his finger at another crystal, which moved along the black path. Compared to the others, the path was straight and the shortest. But that didn’t mean it was easier.
“Someone fancies themselves a blood mage?” the warrior remarked, vehemently beckoning Tilek with his hand. “Show us this smart tadpole.” At the scarred warrior’s words, the mage settled more comfortably. It wasn’t worth getting up for someone who would soon meet their end.
The warrior then looked around for support and found it.
The leather-clad female mage rose from her chair and snapped the crystal that had captured everyone’s interest. “Now, this should be interesting,” her eyes gleamed, anticipating the entertainment.
An almost transparent image unfolded above the table just as the sharp claws of the needle pierced the participant’s body. The unfortunate soul had no chance of dodging in the narrow passage. With his last strength, the young warrior swung his blade, attempting to fend off the needle. The blade missed the agile torso, slicing through the walls. One precise strike crumbled the seemingly robust and powerful roots, revealing a breach.
“Am I seeing things?” the scarred warrior exclaimed in astonishment. “Has the Heart weakened so much?”
The novice was dying, and with his last breath, the image tracked by the crystal would fade away.
The needle opened its jagged maw in a wide yawn. Perhaps it screamed, sending sound waves through the corridor. Then it turned and, with its eyeless face, stared at the breach in the wall. Its small head twitched. The beast froze, and in an instant, its bony torso collided with the wall. Shards of petrified roots scattered in all directions, raining down on the ground. The needle struck again and again until it disappeared into the clouds of white dust. The image began to dim. In the last moment, the dust settled enough to reveal the tunnel where the creature was no more. The main hall fell into silence.
“Slugs won’t handle that,” the scarred warrior commented grimly. “The passage will remain closed until sunset.”
“By then, it won’t matter. With the needle’s speed, it will traverse all the paths. Moreover, suppression slows the movement of the neophytes, unlike its,” another hunter offered his opinion.
Maxat rose from his seat. “There’s nothing else to watch. The outcome is already known.” Under the gaze of others, he made his way to the exit. Tilek followed him. In the middle, the mage pivoted, a solemn expression etched across his face. Lifting his index finger to his lips, he spoke, “Yet among us is one who has yet to face the trials.”
Suri turned toward the Archmage, her eyes seeking confirmation of his words. The intensity of the Archmage’s glare served as an unequivocal answer. “Don’t even entertain the thought!” the mentor hissed under her breath. “Do you wish to court death?”
Ignoring her mentor’s warning, Suri asked, pointing at people in the hall. “But for them, this beast is not a problem?”
The response came from Imber, his voice unwavering despite the dire circumstances. “The trials’ path and the Heart’s dungeon unite. No matter how much blood spills, it won’t permit anyone through now.”
Imber’s eyes conveyed all his pain. He clenched his teeth in an attempt to restrain himself, and the girl could hear them grind.
She bit her lip, gripping the armrests of the chair. Maxat had singled her out for a reason.
“Do you think the Heart will let me through?” she asked her mentor.
The Archmage, though armed with arguments and words of protest, felt the determined gaze of her apprentice somehow erasing them from her memory. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I believe so, and I’m not the only one who thinks that. Blood mages have always held some influence over the Heart. And since Maxat confirmed it, then…”
“Then I’ll be able to,” Suri finished the mentor’s words.
The woman nodded in response. “But what will you do? You have no strength or combat skills. You’ll die.”
Bowing to her mentor, Suri hurriedly left the main hall without looking back. Cassia’s last words echoed in her ears, weighing heavily on her heart. “There is no time for doubt,” the girl persuaded herself as she rushed along the castle corridors. Cassia had no one else to rely on for help.