Entering Kusma makes Lilith completely forget their purpose.

She's excitedly running down the sandy streets. It's bustling with life, merchants lining each side of the road. They just went past a carpets store, a trinkets store, an antiques store. Then, an old lady beckons her to her wares of rare stones and crystals sprayed out on a wooden display table by the roadside immediately draws her attention again to forget her previous intrigues.

There's something green and sparkly catching her eyes, and just as she's about to pick the jewel up to get a closer look, Cyan halts her by the forearm and reminds her that they're not here on a tour. He's more curious of the pouch that they received. Flickering between the contents and her as though a multitasking mother to make sure his child doesn't misbehave. But he isn't very successful because she insists that the headdress would look pretty on him. It's a delicate little thing, with an elegant silver chain attaching to a small piece of teardrop emerald. And she can tell Cyan is taken by surprise when she uninvitedly loops it past his ears and places it on his head. It makes him snap his gaze up and scowl at her,

"Stop it, idiot," before reaching for the jewel to pull it off to return to the old lady,

"I think I know where's the next trial!"

But she isn't listening, she's already eagerly tugging him by the hems of his sweater to where the aroma of grilled meat lures her. Squeezing past the half semicircle of crowding customers, she sees the source of it. A kebab, spinning on a rotary, glistering like it's slobbered with honey. Then out of habit, she turns and begs,

"Let's buy this," clasping her hands together,

"Please, please, please, please!" before she realizes, she isn't with Killian.

So instead of the 'no' that she would've usually receive, Cyan relents,

"Alright, alright! But stop running off after this." and reaches into his pocket for coins to deliver to the bearded, middle age merchant.

She anticipatingly watches him skillfully slice the meat off the skewer. Catching the falling pieces within flat breads that are already topped with exotic looking squash. It resembles one of those off colored fruits they've seen the camel cart transport on their way here.

Once he passes them the readied products, she can hardly wait. So. she isn't paying attention to Cyan when he drags her back onto the main road. Instead, she's busy ripping through the tinfoil wrappings with her teeth and ravenously sinking down to take a huge bite of the generously portioned meat. It's salty, savory and everything she's craving. The vegetables and squash give a perfect contrast of crunchiness and sweetness, so entirely indulgent, she isn't even aware of the oncoming wagon when Cyan jerks her away from its path.

Then she finally turns to face him when he teases,

"You're a fucking kid."

She retorts,

"No, you!" but her mouth is full so it comes out sounding like a muffled whine of an injured dog. He laughs at her again. Irritated, she swallows to puff her cheeks,

"Stop judging me." and attempts to shove his face to make him stop looking.

He swats at her and argues,

"Don't touch me, you're greasy!"

At that, she darts for his sweater to intentionally spite him. Making sure she gets a clear smudge of oil on it. In retaliation, he returns the gesture and she's unwilling to backdown, so she holds the kebab with her teeth and attacks with both hands. He wouldn't be able to do the same since he's already using an arm to push at her forehead, and he needs the other to clutch his food and map.

That's when she notices, drawing back,

"Wait, when did you get the second glass map?" she still has hers tucked beneath her waistband.

"I tried to tell you just now, but you weren't listening." he says, straightening his posture,

"You won it from that arm wrestling trial." and lifting his wrist to show her the brown pouch Satys gave them hooked around it. It looks slightly more deflated now,

"There's also local currency in it. Quite a lot of it too."

"Oh! That's epic!" she exclaims, receiving the map from him to get a closer look. Taking the last bite of her Kebab as she does.

It's slightly different from the first one they've got. This one has the numbers 2-3 carved into it and it's more zoomed in. The two little green dots are surrounded by rectangles and squares. Glancing around, she realizes those represents the shops circling them. It matches the current location. Then Cyan reaches forward and slides two oily fingers against the screen, minimizing it to resemble their first map. Turning it into half a house at the bottom left.

She retrieves her map and places them side by side,

"It matches." she says, completing the shape.

"Yeah."

"I reckon that's the location of the next trial." Cyan says pointing to the structure rightwards and few streets before the Persian palace. It's tall and circular. With window arches carved into it. Lining the exterior entirely. She returns the map to him and tucks hers away. Excitedly she says,

"Oh! Does this mean test takers are already doing the second trial?"

"Looks like it. Or they may be waiting for something. The dots aren't moving."

Enthusiastic, she exclaims,

"Come on!" dragging his wrist again and picking their pace up to a jog,

"Let's go find out! Maybe we can meet the other test takers too!" and doesn't wait for him to reply before sprinting them down the path. Bumping into shoulders, and ignoring Cyan's skepticism,

"Idiot. You shouldn't trust people so readily."

Not stopping, she tilts over her shoulders,

"Why not?"

And he shrugs as if it's something obvious,

"It's easy for test takers to turn on each other. Considering only a few people pass every year and all." before quickly finishing his kebab in two big bites at the sign of her picking up speed.

She audibly hums for a moment, asking,

"Are you going to stab me in the back?"

Her question makes him choke on the food he's trying to swallow, as if he's taken back by it, before he blurts, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand,

"Who would ask such a thing so bluntly! And even if I was planning to, as if I'd tell you."

She puffs her cheeks at him,

"Come on, tell me!"

Difficultly, he says,

"I won't, idiot." like he's agitated to answer her. Then she copies, laughing

"And I won't stab you in the back too!"

"As if you could, dumbass."

The flick of his eyes upwards makes her choose to straighten her gaze instead of retaliating with a lame rebuttal.

They're here, at the base of the colosseum. The gates are open, as though an invitation. The ambiance is different from their bustling surroundings. It's almost solemn. Like an awkwardly placed mansion in the middle of townhouses. It's grandiosely out of place, but none of the locals seem to pay it any mind.

Weaving beneath the arches, they pass a flight of stone stairs, spiraling to the audience podiums. Above them, the ceilings are tall. In a diagonal slop downwards. The torches embedded on each support beam is unlit. But the lack of noises tells her it's mostly empty. So instead, they pass the steps and opt for the arena ring in the center.

Within it, the massive circular walls enclosing them are even more imposing. It's tall enough to cover the relentless sun that's lowered from its original twelve o'clock position to hang at five. Glaring, like a white spark, from behind the western trims. Seeping its light through the many windows arches she's seen from the outside to cast stretched out shadows of the tiered, stone viewing benches.

In the arena itself, there are five tall pillars, paved with ladders, leading to the flat top that are slightly beneath the first row of seats. Four of them are spaced roughly hundred meters apart, forming corners of a square, surrounding one dead center. The red flags stuck on each pillar makes her think it looks like a set up for a game.

Beneath it, like their map predicts, four people gather at the base.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

On the left most, it's an elderly man. He's hunched over, so his loose desert robes trails to the ground, looking so frail, Lilith thinks, he might fall over if he lets go of his walking stick. He's stroking his beard, facing their direction, but she can't tell if he's looking at them because the wrinkles and bushy white brows are drooping over his eyes.

Beside him, is who she assumes to be the exam official, in a full suit of metal armor. Towering above the old man and casting a perfect shadow like a tree providing shade.

Then she spots someone she recognizes, he's leaning against the center pillar, checking his watch as though he'd rather be somewhere else. It's the lab coat man she's seen at the check in counter. Next to him on the ground, a rounded fella sits. The tuff of green hair on his head almost looks like a moss patch growing on moldy rock. His shirt matches in color. The Bermuda pants are slightly darker. It looks too tight on him. Stretching taut at the seams as it is. It may rip any second. Regardless, he's eating a bag of chips and dropping mountains of crumbs all over himself.

At the sight of them entering, round fella gets up, casually discarding the emptied bag beneath him, and comments,

"Ah... It's brats again. Why are there so many brats this year." even his voice sounds bloated. Then round fella glances upwards at the stadium and asks,

"Are the you two chickening out of the trial like they are?" she follows his gaze.

There're two others in the audience podium, probably the other brats he's referring to.

Lilith notices the boy first, because of his striking red hair. He's lying on his forearms that's folded on the back of the bench in front of him. Tapping his fingers in beat to the music he's listening to through corded headphones. The white inner shirt and crème sweater vest layered on top reminds her of a school uniform. How is he not overheating?

Lilith can tell he isn't local. And neither is the girl behind him. She seems younger than them, relaxing on the ledge of an arch of the tallest floor, resting her back against it and perching her arm on a raised knee. A black hood is pulled over her head, wrapping into a scarf around her neck that splits into two segments to fall on either side of her shoulders. Above the dark leather vest, gloves and shorts ornamented with silver buckles. She's a cosplayer. If she had to put a name to her outfit, Lilith would say, she looks like a gothic assassin.

They must have arrived shortly before Lilith and Cyan did, considering they weren't on the map earlier.

Then Lilith concludes,

"I don't think they're chickening out; they might be that type, you know." she raises a finger at the round fella, attempting to explain,

"The type that likes to watch what's going on first before they engage. Kinda like Kil-" and she stops when Cyan nudges her ribs.

"You talk too much, idiot." he glares intently and taunts,

"We're playing. Fatty."

"Cyan, that's rude." it makes him snap at her,

"Dumbass, you're supposed to be on my side. Read the mood. He was obviously undermining us earlier."

"Under-mining?" she tilts her head at him,

"That means, he was looking down on us."

Was that what it was?

Then, the old man's cough catches her attention instead, as he announces in a slow dragging pace,

"Ah... Shall we begin now that we have all five players?" his words stir an odd tension in the air. A quiet breeze sweeps past. Then the realization hitting her makes her forget what she wants to say to instead exclaim,

"Wait! you're the exam official?"

At that, Cyan face palms,

"You're an idiot."

She retorts,

"How am I supposed to know?"

But the old man replies her with a quiet laugh,

"Ah yes, my child. I indeed am." and that's when Lilith instinctually lowers to his hands. It's stacked atop each other on the cane. Now that she's actively looking for it, she notices the glare of a ring on his middle finger of the hand that's beneath. There's a doctor's cross engraved on it.

Recognizing the symbol makes her eyes glister as she excitedly comments,

"Oh! You're an Under Oath guild member! That's so cool!" it's one of the oldest and biggest guilds amongst the elite ten. She hears about them in the television a lot. They're known for helping disaster locations and people in need.

The old man replies patiently,

"I am flattered you have heard of us." stroking his beard as he glances around, laughing quietly.

The moment he does, there's a split-second wave of intrusive aura, as though the prying eyes of a jaguar locked on its prey. It's gone in an instance, like the strike of a viper, so quick, she questions if her senses had just tricked her into feeling something that wasn't there. But it was enough to make Lilith tense up and Cyan's tails fluff. He's hunched slightly like he's ready to pick between fight or flight. It hints to her she wasn't imagining it. He's felt it too.

The others, however, did not react.

The old man, nonchalantly comments,

"I see lots of potential in the younglings this year. It fills my heart with joy-" and he's unceremoniously interrupted when the towering armor man beside him collapses on the ground with a loud clash. His helmet tumbles off him, rolling with clanks until it hits the wall to a stop. Revealing a bespectacled man crawling out of the neck hole on his bum, teeth chattering and eyes glued on the old man as though he just witnessed a monster. It reminds her of a hermit crab discarding its shell, he's small and scrawny in comparison.

Then armor guy manages to climb himself back up on his feet. Making a bolt for the exit, yelling,

"I forfeit!" and not looking back.

Lilith raises a confused brow at his gesture, before turning to ask Cyan,

"What's up with him?"

Cyan crosses his arms,

"He just failed the initiation." explaining softly as though he's reluctant to let others hear him,

"That aura sweep was a test. He didn't have enough Vita to withstand it, that's why he's struck by the paralyzing fear."

Lilith slaps her fist against her palm again, remembering,

"Oh! So that's what it was. Satys did it too!" then she tilts her head, confused,

"Wait, then how did he get into Kusma? Isn't Satys guarding the entrance?" the unrestrained loudness of her voice makes Cyan shoot her an admonishing look. She just doesn't understand why Cyan is hush, hush about things all the time.

Hearing her, lab coat man questions curiously, straightening himself from leaning against the pillar,

"Have the two of you already passed Satys's trial?"

Strange. Is her assumption wrong? Perhaps Satys isn't the guard to Kusma. Otherwise, lab coat man wouldn't have asked.

"We didn't." Cyan lies, "she just moved to the entrance because she got impatient."

She can tell Cyan's being wary of him, so she doesn't challenge him and instead, points out the obvious,

"We're short of one player now."

At that, the red hair boy leaps down from the audience podium. Removing his headphones to hang around his neck, joining them,

"I'll play too!" he declares with his arms flung high. His tone reminds her of an excited puppy that's just promised a walk.

Now that he's closer, she's able to see his eyes matches the color of his hair, it's red too. But darker than Cyan's. The checkered pants just reaffirm her former assessment about his clothes looking like a private boarding school's uniform. Only, it's missing the badge.

The redhead eagerly elaborates without being asked,

"You see, you see, I was watching because I didn't know what it was. But I think I figured it out now!" to the old man.

His enthusiasm is contagious to rub off on her too, so excitedly, she asks,

"Oh! What is it?"

He returns with equal hype, raising a finger,

"It should be a version of freeze tag!"

"Freeze tag?"

"Yeah, haven't you played as a child?"

She shakes her head.

He explains,

"Well. We, the players, have to capture the flags. If we capture all five flags. Players win. Whereas, the old man, the catcher, has to tag us. Once tagged, we are unable to move unless another player comes and un-tag us. However, if all players are tagged before the flags are captured. Then the catcher wins." he turns to the old man, asking jubilantly,

"Isn't that, right? Geezer."

Hearing that makes Cyan's ears twitch, swishing his tails as he comments, almost like he's awed,

"Dude. You have some titanium balls."

The red head hums, glancing upwards for a moment in thought,

"But he is a Geezer."

Cyan snaps,

"Didn't you feel his aura? This geezer can end your entire lineage if you piss him off."

It makes Lilith point out,

"You just called him a geezer too, Cyan."

The red head shrugs, then turns to the old man,

"But, you wouldn't. Right?"

The old man returns a laugh, shaking his head slightly. As though he's enjoying their banters. Cyan on the other hand scoffs at the redhead,

"Never mind. It's another idiot."

He rebuts as though he's offended,

"I'm not an idiot. I'm a Proelium magum!"

Cyan folds his arms,

"Then intelligentia must not be your strong suit."

The red head seems unwarrantedly impressed,

"Wait. How did you know?"

Lilith's getting confused,

"Proelium magum? What's that?"

Cyan deadpans sarcastically,

"It's him."

At their silly exchange, the old man comments longingly,

"Ah... It's good to be young. It makes me miss my younger days when I too, took the adventurer's exams." and draws their attention to him when he elaborates,

"Yes, my child. You are right to say it's a game of freeze tag." then he, wobbling, lifts a frail finger,

"However, there is one more added rule. Each of you only have three chances each round to be un-tagged. Upon being tagged for the third time. You are out of the game for that round."

Cyan asks,

"What about Magia? Are we allowed to use it in the trial?"

He patiently replies,

"Yes, of course, I encourage you to. Magia is, after all, the bread and butter of an adventurer."

The rounded fella closes in, cracking his knuckles,

"Sounds easy enough. Let's get this going." it's funny because in Lilith's opinion, he looks the least able to run.

The old man laughs, stroking his beard with a hand,

"Very well, younglings. you have three seconds of head start. I will start chasing, once the counter reaches zero."

At that, a translucent white Magia field forms around the arena. Sealing them in. Dropping the air pressure with it as the old man begins,

"Three."

It sends the test takers scattering towards the pillars. The lab coat man taking center begins his journey on the ladder upwards behind the counting old man. Whereas the rounded fella, rolling like a bowling ball, heads top left. He's ironically faster than she's anticipated.

"Two."

The red head, flicks his wrist, beckoning what looks like a dark swirling portal in the air. One before him, and the other opening at top right. Leaping through it.

"One."

Cyan's already at the top of the bottom right pillar. Using the wind to heave him up, reaching for the flag. That leaves Lilith with bottom left. She coils, readying herself to leap,

"Zero."

She jumps.

There's a sudden pulse of aura. Like a heartbeat. Followed by what feels like a vacuum of air pressure. The old man has disappeared from where he's counting. It occurred in an instance, that her eyes couldn't keep up. But she catches him in the peripheral. The old man is at the exit portal of the red hair boy. It's funny because it looks instead, like the old man has teleported. Tapping the redhead on the forearm as he's stretching towards the flag. Freezing him in motion like a statue.

Then the old man disappears for bottom right. Appearing beside Cyan with his cane raised, and ready to descend. Cyan's noticed him, gathering his Magia. The cane goes straight past his arm, where it should have landed. Almost like Cyan has phased through the solid wood. He's able to retrieve the flag. Uprooting it. But the second cane tap immediately freezes him on the spot.

The old man's relentlessly going for the third at the bottom of the top left pillar. Waiting for the rounded fella to reach the base with his cane raised. Tap. He's frozen too.

Then, he flickers away again, to middle of the center pillar. So quickly, as though he's able to hover midair, before gravity can even exert its force upon him to make him fall, to freeze the lab coat man in his tracks.

He's gone again.

Instinctively, Lilith snaps her head forward. She realizes, the old man, is waiting for her now, at where she has intended to land. Just as her feet find purchase on the top of the pillar. He bonks her on the top of her head.

His Magia freezes her mid motion in a kneel.

The game ends.

The backlash of the Magia releasing on her makes her collapse forward. Bracing her landing with a knee and palm. When she's picked herself up to spin back around. The old man's already back at his original spot of where he's initiated his counting. Nonchalantly stroking his beard.

There's a heavy silence in the arena for a moment. It's lingering, until the old man breaks it with a cough, looking up at the sky,

"Ah... Would you look at the time." the sun has finally begun to descend, painting the skies orange,

"It's time for dinner. Feel free to come back tomorrow and try again." before he turns and slowly staggers his way to the exit. No one replied him, no one tried to stop him. She knows everyone had the same thing in mind.

They wouldn't be able to pass this trial if things remain the way it is.