Chapter 12: Tryouts

“So, she’s the one huh?” The elven priest, Sutre, asked.

The two priests stood behind the circular stained-glass window at the top of the primary church spire that overlooked the courtyard of the church.

“She doesn’t look like much. Are we sure that Ambrosia saw her and not another gate species?” Sutre continued as he turned to look at the bishop.

Bishop Nilfole maintained his gaze through the window down into the introduction of the newest batch of recruits into the Hunter’s Lodge. He focused on the small figure of the human that he had interrogated the previous day, watching for any signs of danger from her.

At a glance, she didn’t appear like much. Small in stature and soft-spoken, she didn’t give off any demonic energy and barely registered as a mana-fused being. A scan from his skill screen showed that she was being honest about her level and classes, which made him feel at ease in trusting her integration into the Lodge. Other members of the Church’s hierarchy didn’t feel as confident in his decision, however.

“I trust the captain’s report and her observations. She is one of the few officers I know that don’t embellish their reports for commendations or self-interest. That one is the genuine article, and we must keep her close.” The bishops gaze finally broke away from the human to meet Surtre’s.

Sutre sighed and placed a hand over his face. “You’re not making council meetings any easier, your holiness. Several of the members have already sent their representatives to camp out in front of my office. I tell them the same answer over and over, but they keep coming back with different tactics to try and change your judgement. They should know by now that won’t work, but they still try.”

The elven priest was tall and lanky. Long silver hair framed his face and draped to the small of his back, his emerald eyes shone brightly in the sunlight that fought through the stained glass of the tower. While not as old as the bishop, he was one of the more experienced of the Church staff that had faced actual combat situations as a team healer. His rise through the Church’s ranks was not out of nepotism or political maneuvering, but rather through actual accomplishments in the field of battle. Once he joined clergy of the Church of Celestials, he immediately made waves by changing standards for Hunters and establishing new rules for recruitments in the selection process.

Through his time in the wilds, he became increasingly frustrated with his chain of command and how little he felt they considered the needs of the Hunters they sent out to do their bidding. Feeble supplies, inconsistent intel, and general disregard for their safety had made being a Hunter even more dangerous than it already was fighting monsters.

After changing the status quo, recruitment from every race skyrocketed. Becoming a Hunter became more than a means to make a living, and instead became the honorable order that the founders intended it to be all those centuries ago.

He was a trustworthy second to the bishop.

“I don’t believe she will pose any risk right now, but I am always having her monitored in case that changes. The council can groan about it as much as they’d like, but this is the only path I can see where we can stop another blight from occurring.” Nilfole raised his hands and let his mana manifest in the center of his palms as he spoke. “The Light gave her their power, and we cannot ignore the message they are sending us in doing so.”

Sutre watched as the bishop’s mana dissipated from his hands. “The Light isn’t the only one sending a message though. Cindara is a name I haven’t heard in a long time. If she gave away her name this quickly to a gate species, then she knew that we would find her and bring her here. I understand your logic in taking her in, but I also get why the other council members wanted to execute her right away. They’re already referring to her as the ‘Acolyte’.”

Nilfole chuckled at the name. “Labeling her as a threat and spy for demons before even a week of training. Funny how a bunch of priests ignore the signs of our gods so willingly.” He looked through the window again, listening to the Red Cloak commander shout at the recruits. “It’s up to her to show us what she truly is.”

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After the introductions, figures began to emerge from the shadows of the courtyard. Several species in training leather began to muster around the group of recruits, waiting for orders.

“Your first test—” Nora pointed towards the back of the courtyard to a door. “—is to get through that door to the cadre on the other side. There, you will see a cadre member holding red bands of cloth. You will approach them, and they will tie the band on your arm and tell you where the second test is. Mind you, the cadre will only have 30 bands, and you will need them if you want to make it to the next test. Anyone too slow or that is unable to make it through the door will be disqualified and sent home.”

Recruits began to look at each other in confusion, whispering questions and doubts about the test. The leaders of the various Lodge branches watched the confusion wash over the crowd while smirking, all except for the leader of the red cloaks who was growing red in the face as the chatter continued.

“Oi! A fuckin’ officer just gave you lot an order! This isn’t a great start if you genuinely want to join the Lodge, stop yer yappin’ and get to moving!”

As Nora Brightstar's commanding voice echoed across the courtyard, the disciplined ranks of recruits quickly dissolved into a chaotic rush towards the designated exit. The Lodge cadre, identifiable by their white armbands, directed the flow of movement, unintentionally exacerbating the jostle among the recruits.

Naomi, caught in the midst of the scramble, struggled to maintain her ground. She pushed against the sea of leather-clad bodies; her efforts seemingly futile against the tide of determined recruits. The congestion grew tighter, the atmosphere thick with desperation and competitive spirit.

The realization struck Naomi hard – in this rush, individual strength didn’t matter; it was the collective push that drove the flow. She felt the panic rising, her breath quickening under the pressure of the bodies pressing against her. Glancing around, she sought an escape, an alternative path, but found none – only a dense mass of recruits, all vying to be the first through the exit.

It was then that an idea sparked in her mind. Looking down, she noticed the relatively unoccupied space near the ground. Without a second thought, Naomi let herself drop, her hands hitting the grass as she surrendered her vertical space.

Looking around, she saw a forest of legs moving as they struggled against each other. In between them was a clear path to the front.

Crawling on hands and knees, Naomi navigated beneath the chaos. She dodged the occasional stray kick, her focus solely on reaching the exit. The shouts and shoves above seemed distant as she made her way forward, each movement bringing her closer to the doorway.

I knew I was this small for a fuckin’ reason!

After a few moments of crawling, she eventually saw a light at the end. The silhouette of the door frame came into view, two pairs of legs fighting for the right to enter first. An elf and tall dragonborn were shoulder-to-shoulder in the door frame, both shouting for the other to move first, neither of them paying any attention to Naomi crawling below them.

With a final leap, she moved past the two recruits and through the door. She looked up as she made it past the threshold to see a tabaxi cadre member staring down at her. The dark-furred creature stood with her arms crossed across her chest, smiling as she stared at Naomi on all-fours. “Not bad, recruit. But we’re not done yet.” She approached Naomi while reaching for a bundle of red scraps of cloth hanging off her belt. While Naomi was still on the ground, the tabaxi wrapped the strip of red cloth around her left bicep and stood.

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Around them was a dirt road with wagon tracks on it. Across the road was an open field that spanned for miles on end, various types of trees dotted the fields sporadically as Naomi’s vision adjusted to the sunlight.

Frustrated shouts brought Naomi back to the moment, and she stood up to get her next instructions from the tabaxi. “Where to next?”

The tabaxi pointed out into the field. “At the end of this field, you will find a tree line. Enter the forest and find the next cadre to guide you to the last test of the day.”

Naomi turned to face where the tabaxi was pointing and squinted to see the tree line started, only to find more of the same grass and random trees the more she looked.

Suddenly, red flags went off in Naomi’s mind. “There aren’t any trolls in there, right?” She asked, fear evident in her voice and expression.

The tabaxi tilted her hear in confusion. “Why in the hells would we send recruits into the troll woods? We don’t even know if you have enough endurance to travel to a mission point, much less fight something like a troll when you get there. The forest is where we train and practice here in Mar Shota, simulating environments that we would find in the troll-woods. The worst you’ll find there are poison berries.”

A sigh of relief forced its way out of Naomi. One less thing to worry about.

“How far is it?” She asked

The tabaxi laughed. “Does it matter? You want into the Lodge, right? Sometimes we run for hours on end, and if you can’t manage to do this then you’re not up to the task of being a Hunter.”

Naomi blinked at the answer confused by the simplicity and nonchalance of the tests so far.

Go in that direction and run? I guess…

The other recruits began shouting again, giving Naomi a sense of urgency to start before more competition began pouring through the door. She looked down at her feet hating the fact that she didn’t have her favorite running shoes from home, or even any shoes for that matter, and started to jog out into the field.

After moving into the field from the dirt road, she felt the tension in her body start to rise at the idea of otherworldy bugs possibly hiding out in the grass waiting to be stepped on. Worse yet, she knew that her feet would be extremely filthy by the end of this test whether or not she passed, and dreaded inspecting them at the end of the day.

She tamped down her usual neurotic thoughts and focused on her breathing as she ran. The one good thing about all of this was that she was somewhat used to running from her time back in Oceanside. She knew her limits and how to pace herself for long distances whenever she trained for a 5k or half-marathon she was roped into by her friends.

As Naomi continued her run, she turned to see the outside of the Church of Celestials and its surroundings. The massive structure was a testament to the power and resources of the church. The central tower, where she had spent her first night, loomed over the landscape, a beacon of strength and sanctuary. Its stone surface, kissed by the sunlight, glimmered with an almost ethereal quality.

Surrounding the central tower were smaller ones, each unique in design yet harmonious in their collective presence. These towers, varying in height and shape, were adorned with intricate carvings and stained-glass windows that caught the light in a kaleidoscope of colors. The architecture was a blend of elegance and fortitude, reflecting the church's dual role as a place of worship and a fortress against the dangers of the world.

The walls that encircled the church grounds were a marvel in themselves. Constructed of white stone, they stood about thirty feet high, forming an imposing barrier against any external threats. The walls were thick and robust, topped with battlements that provided vantage points for the guards. The guards were spaced evenly along the wall, each beside a tall spear. Pillars of smoke rose from fires set at regular intervals, serving both as beacons and sources of warmth for the guards on their watch.

From Naomi's vantage point in the field, the entire church compound resembled a small, self-contained kingdom. The sprawling white stone walls extended in both directions, disappearing into the horizon.

As she took in the view of the structure of the church and its walls, she saw other recruits running towards her at increased speed. She saw one of the red-scaled dragonborn that was fighting for dominance back in the courtyard rushing towards her, running at what seemed to be impossible speed for the normal person. Each stride it took was easily three of hers, and it wasn’t slowing down.

Panic began to stir in her stomach again, as she began to feel like the race she was in was turning into a game of cat-and-mouse. The dragonborn was only a few hundred yards behind her at this point and felt like it was making an intentional effort to line up to where she was running instead of using another spot in the abundance of grass that the field had to offer. Naomi faced forward and began to run at a sprint.

The field began to feel like an incline as she ran, the slight shift in steepness beginning to make her breathing rate increase and her thighs burn as she progressed. Rapid steps behind her grew louder as the dragonborn closed in, each step begging Naomi to steal a glance to see how much distance was left between the two of them. She closed her eyes and opened her stride as best she could, hoping the incline of the field was affecting it as much as it was affecting her. It wasn’t.

Within a few heartbeats, a deep and gravelly voice spoke behind her as she was running. “Who do you think you are?”

Not sure how to react, Naomi kept running but back to her original jogging speed instead of sprinting. Her only focus was to keep moving and wait to see how the other recruit reacted.

“I’m –huff-- --huff—Naomi –huff—” she managed between breaths.

Her peripheral vision didn’t see the dragonborn on either side of her, which meant it was intentionally slowing down to keep at her speed to speak with her. Why anyone would risk moving slower in a race was beyond her.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through to get here? What any of the others had to sacrifice to even make it to this selection process?” Its voice grew louder as it spoke, anger seething beneath each word. There was no indication of exhaustion or that sprinting to catch up to her had worn it out while it spoke.

“Each of us has had to undergo trials by our own people, some took years to get to our level through training and practice in the field for a chance to earn our cloaks. And yet here you are, a measly level two gate species that hasn’t even integrated into society yet, given the same honor as those who have faced a mountain of adversity to get to this point!”

Breathe and move. If it attacks, then someone will have to intervene…right?

“No words? Nothing to say to defend this slap in the snout to us who actually belong here?”

One foot in front of the other.

The dragonborn loudly huffed in frustration behind her. “Maybe it wasn’t just blind confidence that they allowed a baby gate species to enter the Lodge, maybe it was a favor for a favor. Is that it?”

All fear washed away as she listened to the dragonborn, butterflies of anxiety replaced by a heat fueled by anger began to bubble in her chest.

“You’re too small for me, but I can understand how an elf could get off with the likes of you. Then again, all you soft-skins look alike to me--” Naomi stopped running as it finished.

The abrupt halt caused the dragonborn to brace itself, its clawed feet tearing into the grass as it forced a sudden stop. The air around them shifted tangibly, like a cold front sweeping through on a hot day. The dragonborn, now standing mere feet from Naomi, watched in wary fascination as a faint purple glow began to emanate in the air before her.

The pressure in the atmosphere intensified with each passing second, stifling the natural sounds of the surrounding fields. The chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves were silenced, replaced by a palpable tension that seemed to emanate from Naomi herself.

For a moment, everything was still, the world holding its breath. Then Naomi turned slowly to face the dragonborn, her eyes flashing a deep, ominous purple that matched the aura now enveloping her. The dragonborn recoiled slightly, its previous bravado melting away in the face of this unexpected display.

"You speak of sacrifices and trials," Naomi's voice was calm but carried an underlying edge, a timbre that resonated with the newfound energy swirling around her. "You don't know the first thing about what I've faced or why I'm here. And I owe you no explanations. Back. Off."

The dragonborn, taken aback by the intensity of her presence, struggled to find words. Its anger had been replaced by a mix of confusion and a hint of fear. For a brief moment, the dragonborn glimpsed something otherworldly in Naomi's eyes, a depth that hinted at powers and secrets it could not fathom.

As quickly as it had appeared, the purple glow faded, and the pressure in the air dissipated. Naomi turned back around and resumed her run, leaving the dragonborn standing in stunned silence. She didn't look back, but she could feel the dragonborn's eyes on her, its previous hostility replaced by a cautiousness.

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Minutes turned into tens of minutes. The field began to feel like it was endless, grass and wildflowers becoming a never-ending tapestry in her vision. Sweat rolled on her forehead as she ran, reminders that time wasn’t standing still as she ran this endless marathon.

Despite knowing the dragonborn could easily catch up to her, she didn’t see them again as she ran. They must have kept a healthy pace while remaining behind her. She didn’t glance behind her again despite the temptation to see if she was still in the lead, but she knew that the competition wouldn’t be far behind.

After cresting a final hill, the tree line became visible. She focused on her breathing and pace, ignoring the urge to sprint again to conserve her energy.

Two hundred more yards, and you can rest to find the next cadre.

Don’t. Stop.