Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, or so they say, and Kori’s days off eventually do as well. On the morning of the fifth day, her first day returning to her duties, Kori finds another surprise waiting for her. Having already fetched breakfast for the Spiritcaller, she’s surprised by his attire when he exits his sleeping chambers, his usual garb still fairly high quality, what he’s wearing today can almost be called ornate.

His totems on full display, arrayed across a deep garnet red vest, a pair of britches in charcoal black peaking out from beneath. His own herbalism tome poking out of a satchel slung across his shoulder.

“Good morning, Spiritcaller Ortik. Uhh, is there something special about today? You look… Different?” Quite unsure what to make of the change in attire, Kori remembers one of the last things that he had said before her days off, a comment that has sat in the back of her mind these past days and done nothing but invoke a sense of dread. She’s still not sure what he had meant by neither of them will be taking pleasure in what comes next…

I was worried before… now I feel like I’m about to go before the Elders to get tried for some horrendous crime.

“Good morning, apprentice. Yes, today is indeed a special day.” He preens slightly as he speaks, straightening his satchel and making sure his totems hang just so. “With the completion of your tome, and doing so in an impressive timeframe, I have judged you to meet the bare minimum of requirements to be introduced to the Circle.” An appraising gaze across her own clothing followed by a shake of his head, “Though first you will brush and clean your tunic.”

“The Circle? Am I to be inducted as a proper apprentice then, Spiritcaller Ortik?” Her eyes wide and full of hope.

This could be it! It’s magic time!

“Do not get ahead of yourself apprentice. You will find out what you need to know when we arrive. Now if you don’t hurry up and clean yourself up, you will not have time for breakfast before we depart.”

“Yes, Spiritcaller Ortik…”

Oh, he’s really going all out with that superiority and authority bit today… I don’t think todays going to be a good day…

Rushing to doff her leather tunic and begin the process of brushing it with a short bristly fur brush, one that she has frequently used, though mostly on Ortik’s clothing. In her haste she nearly collided with the wall while her tunic was partly over her head, and did end up falling on her tail when she was startled by how close she was to the stone when her vision finally cleared. After righting herself and giving her sore tail a rub, it only took a few minutes to get herself mostly in order. There are a couple of ink stains that weren’t going anywhere with the time and supplies on hand, but there was not much to be done about those unfortunately.

Another appraising look follows as she exits her chambers, “Hmph. It’ll have to do. There’s a satchel on the table, store your tome and whatever’s left of the ointment in there. Wear it over your shoulder, like mine. Opposite your sash mind, not squashing it down.” Returning to the half-eaten scraps of breakfast left before him, “I’d hurry if you want breakfast, which I assure you, you do. I will not be waiting for you.”

She nearly inhales her fish and chomps on the remainder of her meal as quickly as possible while slinging the satchel over her shoulder and running back to retrieve her own tome, which had been sitting on her table, right next to where she had just spent several minutes cleaning her tunic before fetching the small pot of ointment from the workshop shelves.

Why couldn’t he say something before I had already made a separate trip in here… I swear, he enjoys making me run around.

Having gotten the important bits, namely the fish, down, Kori gives a longing stare at the rest of her food as she trots out of the chieftain’s chambers on Ortik’s heels.

Leaving the Elders Chambers, they take a passage that Kori hadn’t really noticed before. A door closed and latched across the entrance to the passage. Tighter than other paths meant for many kobolds to pass by and without marking or symbol to identify it, seemingly without reason the path twists and turns through the earth.

They pass through dozens of silent and dark intersections, not even an echo of a claw scuffing across the stone to be heard down any of the paths. Each time an intersection approaches Ortik continues his even pace and chooses their course without hesitation. No matter where she looks Kori can’t find any method to his navigation, she even notes that all directions lack as much as a pebble or hint of dust, no discernible way to differentiate them. as far as she can tell they may have even doubled back at least once.

After what felt like ages, but was likely less than three hundred meters, they encountered the first noteworthy change since leaving the great hall. A pair of curtains of stitched hide hang across the tunnel, overlapping in the center with few gaps, those that there are spill bright light from beyond them into the tunnel. Kori’s senses tingle as she watches Ortik push aside the curtain, ripples of mana flow through the leather at his touch. As they part warm air drifts out and tickles her skin. Entering behind Ortik it takes a few moments for her eyes to adjust and what she sees belies all expectations.

While she is unsurprised that a group that refers to themselves as the Circle would make themselves at home in a circular chamber, the fact that the roof is also domed and that the chamber is more of a half sphere however, does catch her attention. The chamber measures somewhere around one hundred meters in diameter and half that in height and the entirety of that half sphere save for the floor is strung with a multitude of leathers and hides, not a single stone showing. The effort of doing such is nearly boggling to Kori. As she slowly turns to take in the leather walls, she sees Ortik let the curtains they had passed through fall behind himself and for a sudden disorientating moment, Kori can’t tell where she entered, one piece of leather simply blending into the next in an unending curtain.

Logically she knows that it was at the point she’s standing not even 2 meters away from, but even that fact springs doubts in her mind.

It had to be right there… Right? I haven’t moved around the edge of the dome… Have I?

“Spiritcaller Ortik… This place is… What just happened?” Worry and uncertainty heavy in her tone.

“Welcome to the Circle Apprentice. The guards on this place take some getting used to. Try not to think too hard about it for now.” The anticipated thread of amusement completely absent from his voice surprises her even more. His tone almost somber instead.

‘Try not to think about it’? Seriously? Has he met me…

Her eyes continuing to pan about the room. The bulk of the chamber taken up by a raised dais easily fifty meters across. Outside the dais are several long tables, stone hearths with multiple places to hang pots or lay trays to bake or dry herbs, even several large ovens of brick and mortar. A number of Kobolds busy themselves around these areas, each working with varied ingredients, some of which she feels familiar after her time copying the tome. Various techniques on display to prepare concoctions such as the ones Kori has been taught. She even spots a cluster of them working with the ingredients for the ointment she had produced.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The dais in the center appears to be their destination as Ortik strides confidently towards the short stairs leading to its surface. As they ascend Kori is able to get a better look at the remaining sections of the room. Within the confines of the circular dais sit several sections progressing inwards, at the outermost stones, bones, and carved icons are strewn about, encompassing the perimeter in all manner of what she assumes to be totems. Beyond the seemingly haphazardly strewn totems sit braziers with slow plumes of smoke drifting from their coals. And beyond those a ring of clear water in an inlaid trench.

“This is both one of the most powerful, and most dangerous, locations within all of Emberscale Caverns, apprentice.” His tone deep and serious. “We the members of the Circle have steeped this place in all manners of spiritual powers over the centuries, from the greatest of our ancestors we may still call by ties of blood, to the spirits of the elements, and those of the world itself. Some of those are welcome allies, others must be bound to prevent them from bringing calamity as they see fit.”

Waving his hand out towards everything around them, “This place exists so that none may escape its confines, be they spirit, beast, or even Kobold.” A slight sinister twinge in his voice breaking through the weight of his tone, “The hides hanging from the walls confound the senses and cover a maze of exits, only one leading to the Clans caverns, those paths wind and twist and confuse the unwary, leading you to either become lost or wander right back to this place.”

“Is all that truly needed, Spiritcaller Ortik? Why call upon the spirits if it is such a risk?” A mix of trepidation and awe at the efforts taken as she replies.

“The spirits are some of our greatest allies, they warn us of great perils and guide us to great prosperity. But they must never be underestimated and only those with whom you have bound a pact and in this place forged a totem may be called upon outside it.”

“So does that mean I’m here to finally try to commune with a spirit and make my first pact, Spiritcaller Ortik?” her excitement winning out over her apprehension as she speaks.

“No, it is too soon for that. You lack one final Skill before you can be allowed to make your first attempt. Today is for something much more important, a mistake I mean to rectify. And as I have warned, today will not be a pleasant day.”

The pit of dread blooming into images of what torture must await her and what kind of mistake he meant…

Ushering her forward towards the center of the dais before raising his voice to address a ring of nearly two dozen Kobolds sitting upon cushions in the final ring of the dais, all facing inwards to the smoothed center of the room. “Greetings friends. Today I bring before you my apprentice, Kori. She who you did all but forbid my taking.” A hint of anger bleeding through, “The same apprentice who has brought to this Circle a new discovery of great value, and who I myself witnessed the creation of her own Herbalism Tome in a scant ten days.” Murmurs begin circulating with each statement, some seemingly pleased, others near outrage, as each fact is listed off. All of which turn to incredulity at the final statement.

Several of the shaman present begin to speak out as Oritk pauses.

“Ten days? You expect us to believe ten days?” “She’s the one that made the imbued ointment?” “You swear to having witnessed such?” “You boast Ortik, none of the apprentices have done it in less than thirteen since before your time.” “What concoction did you scrounge together for her to manage that?”

…

Cutting through the chatter Ortik raises his voice, “I am not here to debate or to laud her achievements, though they may deserve such, I am here to correct a mistake.” Gently pushing Kori ahead of him as he speaks. “This apprenticeship was begun improperly, a tradition denied to appease those who felt she must prove worthy of what should have been her first step amongst us.” Clearly singling out several of the oldest Kobolds present, “So today, I am here to correct that.”

Ortik pulls several parcels from his satchel, handing each to the sitting shaman arrayed before him, they inspect each and pass them onward, one by one, until they have made the full circuit. He pushes Kori towards where the items begin to gather, “Take these supplies, you will need them.”

“Yes, Spiritcaller Ortik.” As she takes each wrapped bundle, she finds them to be filled with herbs, smoked fish, ground moss, a metal kettle, bowl and cup, and several prepared runes for fire, water, and one that is tightly tied in a thicker leather that she does not recognize. “What is all of this for, Spiritcaller Ortik?”

“I will explain shortly, for now, stow them in your satchel.” A nearly kind note present, one of few she’s seen from him. He leans in and lowers his voice for just her before continuing “I will ask you a question in a few minutes, just repeat ‘I do and I so swear’, unless you wish to leave and end our relationship as master and apprentice.” He returns to his ridged posture, looking away before he can see her shaking her head vehemently at the idea of ending her apprenticeship.

“You have all checked her supplies and ensured they are as tradition demands. Within her satchel are two items that no initiate would possess. Tradition also demands that she cannot be denied these, for no other has come before the Circle with their tome complete or a discovery to their name.” His smugness bleeds through, though reined in to be closer to pride.

One of the oldest Kobolds present, nearly of an age with Matron Kles as far as Kori can see, shouts above the din of others, “But tradition demands…!”

Ortik cuts her off with a wave of his arm, a simmering rage in his voice making it seem as though his quiet words were much louder. “Tradition demanded she be initiated when she first came to be my apprentice. You yourself High Shaman Lowy, were one of the loudest to speak against it.” Waving his hand towards Kori, “This! This is the result of the course you demanded. We have bent this tradition as far as possible by excluding her from this place until now. I will not outright break another for it by stripping her of her accomplishments.”

“I will hear no further debate.” His tone firm and final, “This initiation begins. Any who wish to discuss it may do so, after.”

“Initiate, present yourself to the Circle so that you may be judged.” His tone shifting in a blink, all hints of anger gone and in its place the solemnity of before. The words sounding as though he knows them by rote, has proclaimed them countless times before. He waits as she walks to the center of the cleared circle, nervousness evident in her stride and on her face. “Should you be found wanting, you will be expelled from this place, never to return under penalty of death.” Pausing to emphasise his words. “Should you succeed, you will have earned your place to stand amongst the ranks of our apprentices and your chance to seek the wisdom of the spirits.”

“Youngling Kori, do you wish to undergo this trial of initiation, swearing before this Circle that you enter knowing naught of its perils or contents, in the hopes to one day sit amongst us as our peer?”

Pausing as his words sink in, not only that this trial has perils, but that all she has to do is say no and she could walk away.

Walk away?! Not on my tail. I’m learning magic if I have to run off to a cave and teach it to myself.

“I do and I so swear” She proudly, and loudly, proclaims to the assembled Shaman.

“Very well, Initiate Kori. From this moment onward failure or reticence is to be expelled.” Ortik takes his seat in the opening that they had been standing, all of those present assuming a mask of indifference. Not even the curmudgeonly old High Shaman not daring to break from the others.

“Verify that in your possession you have supplies for seven days, a rune to provide water, and another to provide heat and one final rune which you will keep wrapped and untouched, to do so is to admit failure and end the trial.”

Sensing the profundity of the situation, she answers as formally as possible, “I do, Spiritcaller Ortik.”

“Very well, unless there are any who require additional preparation, we will begin.” Looking out across the others sat alongside him and giving them a moment to speak out, none do so Ortik continues. “Initiate, you will be subjected to the will of the spirits and your task is simple. Return to your den. Do so and you will be granted your place here among us as an apprentice until such time as you are granted the Class of shaman, or you prove you are unable to walk our path.”

With that he begins to chant in a low and indecipherable tone, one taken up by over twenty other voices in harmony. A gray haze begins to flow amongst the sitting shaman, encircling Kori as it slowly drifts inwards towards her. Her [Mana Sense] screaming at the density of mana held within, slowly enveloping her feet, rising to cover her bit by bit, unable to see any of her self below the mist until its covered her in her entirety.

Dizziness and confusion take over as the haze engulfs her vision. Barely able to tell up from down, until she realizes that too is gone when she feels the cold stone pressing on her back.

The haze slowly fades, revealing the Circles chamber as it was before, though indistinct and changed, the edges appear to waver as she watches and the Kobolds surrounding her featureless. The only thing appearing to be unaffected is Kori herself, her possessions, clothing, and scales appearing as they should. Her gaze drifts around the space as she sees it in a new light, the totems blazing with inner light, the water appearing to contain fathomless depths, the braziers billowing smoke in an array of colours and shapes.

What in the scale did I just get myself into…