“Poor,” the Judge’s cold voice sliced through the air, striking the target with the same precision as his martial prowess. A flurry of rapid strikes rained down upon the shimmering “Shield,” fracturing it with a web of cracks. The defense faltered as a well-aimed thrust found its mark, breaching its vulnerable point. The protective bubble enveloping the girl ruptured with a resonant pop, dispersing into the air. The workshop resonated with the mentat’s labored breaths, revealing the immense exertion required to construct the fragile defense.

How many times had she lost control? Suri had lost count. The black-clad warrior effortlessly dismantled the barriers between them, rendering any tally futile.

“Shield,” the authentic words slipped from the lips of the young blood mage, commanding a new barrier into existence. Coldness enveloped her small palms, and a surge of energy erupted from her fingertips.

An aerial vortex encircled the girl, swirling her loose, light locks in a graceful dance. Thin, pale lips stretched into a smile. It was no surprise she hadn’t regretted expending the last of her strength—the defense had performed admirably.

The opponent’s dull training blade crashed into the barrier, filling the room with a dense, resonant clang. Reverberating off the stone walls, the sound returned. But this time, the “Shield” was no more. It vanished much quicker than before.

Her vision dimmed, and Suri collapsed onto the cold, unyielding floor. Profound exhaustion replaced her fear of the Judge with apathy.

“Get up.”

“Can his voice sound any different? Express anything…” Suri mused, casting a stern gaze at her adversary.

“Have you ever smiled?” slipped from her lips so naturally that she didn’t notice it at first. The Judge’s dark brows knit together, and his lips, mirroring the owner’s straightforward nature, tightened.

“He’s displeased again,” Suri observed the subtle cues. “At least, that’s how it appears to me…” Rolling onto her stomach, she clumsily rose to her feet.

“Ready to go down?” came instead of the customary command.

She could feign ignorance of his meaning. But what would be the point? Nothing would elude a person of his stature and abilities.

“The first rank is set to venture into the Labyrinth, and I wish to join them,” she confessed.

“No.”

“Did I mishear?” The Judge’s countenance remained emotionless, and Suri felt as though her hearing had faltered.

But what followed dispelled all her doubts.

“You’re not leaving the castle,” the Judge interjected with a flat tone.

“I’m not allowed?” came a cautious inquiry. “Why? Since I’ve passed the trials, I have the right to join the squad. I’ve already proven my abilities,” Suri’s voice rang out louder and more assured than before. “Nothing will impede me now.”

The trembling fawn had no idea where she found the courage to defy the predator, in whose presence her heart fluttered like a bird in a cage.

“Even Cassia and Imber don’t know yet.”

Their gazes finally locked. And in that fleeting moment, Suri descended into a black abyss. Golden flecks tempered the coal-black depths of his eyes. Each time she met his gaze, Suri discerned traces of an unfamiliar expression on his impeccably sculpted face. Could doubts shake the confidence of even the most heartless man?

“Why didn’t I notice before? The color of his eyes keeps changing,” a reckless thought flashed through her mind. Enraptured, the girl lost focus and made a grave error, leaving the Judge’s actions unnoticed.

The blunt sword struck her squarely in the stomach, the force of the blow sending her stumbling several steps backward. But painful the maneuver appeared, the Judge’s blade never inflicted a serious wound upon her. And with time, Suri realized she paid more attention to controlling the true speech than to the threat posed by the dark warrior. How could she have been unaware? Their brief encounters fostered her skill.

The Judge pushed the sword aside.

“That’s enough for today.”

The words Suri eagerly anticipated. They signaled the conclusion of her daily trials and were the only farewell the Judge offered. Yet today, this man was generous with his words.

“I have Council matters to attend to. Next time, you’ll be the one attacking.” Departing from his customary demeanor, he added after a brief pause, “It won’t be long.” With that, the warrior departed, leaving Suri to ponder in solitude.

“What did he mean? Will I have leisure time? But not enough to engage in folly? Or should I hasten to master at least one offensive rune before the next encounter? Does he believe I wield the true speech for any occasion?”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Thin eyebrows furrowed in earnest analysis. None of her true speech learnings thus far aligned with these objectives. Suri felt far more assured in a supportive role, as evidenced by her encounter with the creature during Cassia’s trial.

The Judge perplexed her. His actions contradicted the Council’s urgency to use the new blood mage, to, if not rectify, then stabilize Azur’s condition. And this was a matter of paramount importance.

The bracelet, post-core transfer to Imber, remained lifeless. This indicated Shug had entered a dormant state. Nonetheless, earthquakes persisted with unsettling regularity, prompting more hunter squads to embark on new expeditions.

But how could anyone remain aloof in such times?

During moments of deep contemplation, Suri found herself clutching the bracelet on her wrist. Its smooth wooden texture beneath her fingers lifted her spirits. Unnoticed, it became a comforting habit.

“He should have realized by now that I won’t use the Thorn to harm Azur, yet he still attempts to control me. I shouldn’t let this opportunity slip away before some new bizarre idea takes root in his mind.”

***

“And how long were you planning to hide?” the Archmage asked, skipping the usual pleasantries and instead depositing a stack of scrolls in front of Suri on the table.

“I never even entertained such thoughts,” the girl countered the mentor’s inquiry with an unwavering tone. One of the scrolls began to roll off, and Suri intercepted it in mid-air.

Word of the imminent departure of the first rank spread throughout the aerial fortress like wildfire.

“I could have remarked that your decision seemed rather impulsive for a mentat. But clearly, such words stemmed from a desire to keep an intriguing individual nearby. And who would grant me such indulgence?” The Archmage’s piercing black gaze shifted toward Suri’s bowed head. “Ah, yes! And what of the Judge?”

At the mention of this person, Suri flinched. However, when she responded, her voice remained steady: “Wasn’t it the Council’s intention to monitor me? Furthermore, I haven’t seen him in some time.”

The woman smiled and shook her head.

“You do possess an intriguing ability, and then there’s this,” she remarked, tapping the bracelet with a precise nail. Suri no longer concealed the Thorn from prying eyes, and the extraordinary ornament drew the curious gaze of the head of the mentats like a magnet.

Continuing to tap the bracelet, the woman added, “It’s simply that the Council will feel more at ease once they dispatch such a mage to the Labyrinth sooner. It’s fortunate that the first rank expedited their preparations.”

“The mentor, and likely the Council, are aware of my intentions,” Suri finally grasped.

“And the Judge…” she hinted.

“Oh, he won’t be able to accompany you. You see, it’s quite challenging to leave the Heart Chamber, particularly when it’s still nourishing,” the woman explained.

“Why did he even venture into that dungeon?” Suri expressed her astonishment. The darkness, oppressive atmosphere, and putrid scent of death often haunted her memories after the trial.

“Hmm,” Archmage Velda chuckled. “Keep expressing your concern. But about whom? He doesn’t resemble an ordinary human. Especially since after the trial, we need to know how much time Azur has left. And the Judge descended into the Heart Chamber to find this answer.”

“What if the hunters fail to find enough sources of energy?” This question had been troubling Suri for a long time, and sooner or later, she had to voice it.

“Volunteers have already stepped forward,” Archmage replied. The Council had prepared the most repulsive and only viable solution given the circumstances.

“The participants of the hunter trials…” Suri understood everything without further explanation.

“Why not just leave the castle? You can descend. Then no one would have to sacrifice themselves!” she exclaimed, her voice edged with urgency. Gripping the table in her agitation, the girl leaned forward.

“You’ll understand everything when you descend. And for such an occasion, I have a little trinket.”

Sweeping the scrolls with the beloved runes off the table, Archmage leaned over and, with visible effort, pulled out a heavy chest. Opening the intricately carved lid, the woman stepped back.

Inside the chest lay a lightweight armor of the highest quality. Crafted from tanned silvery thin leather, the gear infused with an unknown substance and emitted a subtle, unobtrusive aroma.

“The warrior’s needle leather is not only extremely durable but also lightweight. And the essence of blue lichen from the southern precipice will mask your scent from creatures,” Archmage Velda explained briskly, her tone tinged with impatience. She seemed to be awaiting something.

The material, pleasant to the touch, adorned with intricate patterns, and Suri’s fingers instinctively traced the displaced lines, conjuring familiar protective runes in her mind.

“What do you think? Of course, such enchantments are new to me. Nevertheless, I’ve never been so satisfied with the outcome of my work,” the woman’s words conveyed genuine pride and vanity. “I expect you to compensate me for all the precious time I’ve invested.”

The runes warmed beneath her touch. Despite the mentor’s stern demeanor, her gift promised to provide warmth in the icy depths of the dungeon, where sunlight never reached.

“What’s amusing you?” the woman’s offended tone held a surprising touch of vulnerability. “You’re unaware of what lies ahead.” Her large, black eyes regarded Suri with interest, reminiscent of their initial encounter. Yet, beneath the surface, a hint of sorrow lingered for the inevitable parting.

“You know, I’m almost certain the Labyrinth is sentient. And should you find yourself separated from the group, don’t rely solely on the map,” the mentor imparted her final, perhaps most crucial piece of survival advice.

***

“It’s difficult to fathom the Judge’s reaction once he learns the truth. If he even deigns to react,” Suri mused, a faint smile gracing her lips. “No doubt, no one has dared challenge him before.” Imagining his disapproval oddly lifted her spirits.

Standing before the imposing castle gates, Suri clutched a bundle behind her back. The silvery leather armor hugged her form snugly, affording her freedom of movement. A billowing cloak draped over her shoulders, shielding her from the biting wind without hindering her stride.

“Let’s move,” a gruff male voice rang out across the square, its echo swallowed by the misty haze of the early hours. A group of over twenty figures, cloaked in similar garb, made their way towards the yawning gates.

Suri cast a final glance back at the castle, bidding farewell to the fleeting peace she had found within its walls.

“As soon as Cassia discovers the new dagger, all her discontent will vanish. It’s a shame I couldn’t bid her and Imber farewell in person.”

“Changed your tune already?” Maxat materialized from nowhere.

“No, but if you have a sudden change of heart, promises made aren’t rescinded,” Suri retorted, her tone matching the blood mage’s.

“Ha!” Maxat chuckled. “Why would I turn down the company of a healer? With three blood mages, our odds in this purgatory will soar.” Suri shivered at his words, and Maxat laughed. “Don’t lag behind, sister. The Labyrinth claims the laggers first.”

With resolve, the girl stood tall and pressed forward. And she didn’t glance back again.