“Huh?” Nathan asked the purple skinned man.

“You know, the cultists?”

“...” Nathan stared at him silently.

“People who worship Knowledge?” The purple skinned man asked expectantly.

“...”

"What, did you just get to this level of the Trials?” he asked seemingly rhetorically.

Nathan glanced at the purple skinned man inquisitively. “What trials?”

The purple skinned man's eyebrows shot up. “You know, the seven levels of what the Knowledge scroll called ‘the power assessment area’. Those Trials?”

“Oh,” Realization dawned on Nathan's face. “You mean the Gauntlet! Yeah I just got to this level and- Wait! Are there other people on this level?”

“Remarkable!” The purple skinned man got a faraway look in his eye. “To think that there were still survivors in the first two levels who haven’t yet gotten to this one…”

The man shook his head and glanced back at Nathan. He seemed to have only just heard what Nathan had said after he had said that he had just arrived on the third level. “Ah, you would not know yet if you just came from the second level.”

“Yes. Yes there are other people on this level. Tens of thousands of them.”

Nathan's jaw dropped as he struggled to find a response. “Other people? You mean you aren't just a creation of this level? Just a creation of Knowledge?”

The purple skinned man frowned at him in an annoyed sort of way. “No, I am not a creation of that dvelxere. May Knowledge rot in the abyss forever!”

“Yeah,” Nathan nodded bitterly. “Fuck that guy.”

“Indeed,” The purple skinned man nodded sadly, “Fuck that guy.”

Both Nathan and the purple skinned man got a faraway look in there. The purple skinned man shook his head vigorously as if to rid himself of dark thoughts or resurfacing memories.

“Good to meet you.”He extended his hand to Nathan. “I am Xyiax’avin. You are?”

“Nathan. Nathan Holbrich.” Nathan grabbed his hand and shook it.

The purple skinned man, Xyiax’avin Nathan supposed, began walking away from the body of the armored figure and gestured for Nathan to follow. Once Nathan had caught up, he began talking.

“So, Natan Holbrich,” Xyiax’avin pronounced Nathan like Natan, “What circumstances led you to not reach the third floor for four years? Were you stuck with the spiders?”

“Ah, no.” Nathan rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Why do I feel sheepish? “I was stuck inside of the library for almost all of the time that I’ve been here. How long did it take you to ascend?”

Xyiax’avin stroked his flowing, gray beard. “It took me about eight and a half months to ascend.”

Was I really that slow? Nathan winced.

Xyiax’avin had apparently seen Nathan's expression and made placating gestures with his hands. “I did have some prior knowledge of what ascension is, so if you didn’t, then I had a sizable advantage over you.”

Nathan nodded in agreement. “I don’t even know that ascension was a thing before, so you are probably correct.”

“How could you not have heard of ascendants before? Did your society not have any ascendants?” Xyiax’avin asked inquisitively.

“I mean, I've heard of Master Sprenbearers. They might have been ascendants.” Nathan's gaze hardened and his voice grew an edge like that of a razor. “Not that I would have known. That sort of thing isn’t something that’s told to lowborn rice farmers.”

“Mh.” Xyiax’avin nodded and grunted in agreement. They lapsed into silence once more.

This time it was Nathan who broke the silence. “What brings you into these tunnels Xyiax’avin? I was under the impression that I was the only one here before, so there must be a reason why you aren't with the rest of the people.

“First,” Xyiax’avin said in an upbeat tone, “I must insist that you call me Avin. We are friends after all.”

Xyiax’avin’s expression darkened. “But to answer your question, cultists.” A sneer pulled up the corner of Xyiax’avin’s mouth. “Those eveltres have monopolized the altar and driven even everyone who is not a cultist to the far tunnels.”

Nathan glanced at Xyiax’avin with acurios expression. “What altar?”

Xyiax’avin facepalmed. “Forgive me Nathan, I continue to forget you have just arrived on the third level. “

“This level is a gigantic tunnel network. At the center of the network there is a complex of chambers that I call the sanctum. In the largest of the several dozen chambers in the sanctum there is an altar.” Xyiax’avin’s voice took on a story telling voice that he was so adept at using that it seemed to Nathan that he had probably used the voice quite frequently.

Stolen story; please report.

“If that altar is struck by someone, they will complete the objective of this level of the Trials. When I arrived here three and a half years ago, all of us were united by the common cause of escaping the seven levels of the Trials.”

“At the time, those who had already arrived here had deciphered what the objective was from cross referencing the inscriptions on the wall of the tunnels near the sanctum. But we had a problem.” Xyiax’avin paused and took a breath.

“The sentinels.” Nathan realized aloud

“The sentinels indeed.” Xyiax’avin nodded at Nathan “The sentinels are, as far as I have figured out, magical constructs. They are powered by energy cores in their chests and heads.”

“Just like the soul core that is formed by a spren when we ascend.” Nathan frowned. “But why would they have two cores? I, and I assume everyone else as well, only have one core.”

“My best theory is that the first core is to power the movements that the sentinel makes, and one to control the movements, but that's not what I was talking about.” Xyiax’avin cleared his throat, the noise echoing around the dark tunnel.

“About two and a half years after I arrived to this level of the Trials, we managed to destroy the magical inscriptions on the floor of the sanctum. We learned what kept the sentinels guarding the sanctum, because the sentinels began to scatter themselves randomly around the whole level.”

“I thought we had won. We all did.”

“As it was revealed, about forty percent off our number were cultists. They attacked the rest of us shortly after our victory over the sentinels. They killed the most powerful of us and demanded that we join them or die.”

“I do not know how many of us survived. I, along with several others, fled to one of the flora chambers.”

What are the flora chambers? Nathan wondered internally, not wanting to disrupt Xyiax’avin story.

“The cultists took over the sanctum and are controlling access to the altar. The strongest of them have departed from this level and gone to the forth, but there are still thousands of them. Far too many for us survivors to defeat.”

“When I found you I was on patrol to make sure that the cultists were not approaching our position.”

Nathan silently processed the information that Xyiax’avin had given him. How could there be people who worship Knowledge? Even after all it’s done? Even after it put us into this helljole of an experiment?

Nathan voiced his question,and Xyiax’avin’s response was a lot less cryptic than Nathan had expected from the mysterious old man.

“I don't know, but those dvelxeres deserve a painful death.”

Nathan and Xyiax’avin walked in silence for a few more minutes before Xyiax’avin broke it.

“This may be rude,” Xyiax’avin started awkwardly, “But is what you are wearing the typical dress for your people?”

Nathan glanced down at himself and realized that he was still wearing his sliced up deer skin kilt.

“Ah, no. I made this when I was on the second level of the Trials. I couldn't exactly keep wearing what I had on originally.” Nathan answered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That makes sense. You must be quite the skilled young man if you managed to hunt and craft that kilt.” Xyiax’avin laughed in a strangely hollow way. “In that case would you like some other clothes?”

I do have a lot of Skills. Nathan chuckled internally.

“That would be nice,” Nathan replied and looked Xyiax'avin up and down, “But I don't see where you would be storing clothes.”

This time it was Xyiax’avin’s turn to chuckle. He reached into his robes and pulled out a brown leather bag about the size of two hands clenched together into a fist. Xyiax’avin reached a hand into the bag and when it came out, it was holding a folded up replica of Xyiax’avin’s robes.

“It should be about the right size for you but if…” Xyiax’avin continued talking, but Nathan wasn’t listening.

That was a spatially expanded bag! Just who was Xyiax’avin in his home universe?

Nathan had only ever seen a spatial bag once before. He had been at Uncle Heth’s shop because the section of the fields that Nathan's parents worked in was being inspected that day.

Nathan had been about seven at the time. He was behind the counter assembling a ‘sword’ out of grass and two branches, when a drunken man had burst into the shop. He was wearing white clothes that were very finely sewn and had bright blond hair.

He had demanded that he ‘be given the strongest drink that the bar had’. When Uncle Heth had explained that his shop was not a bar, the drunken man had begun shouting at Uncle Heth.

“Do you know who I am!” The drunken man had shouted slurredly. Uncle Heth had assured the man that he did, in fact, know who he was. Uncle Heth had begun giving the man directions to the nearest bar, but had been interrupted by the man shouting something incomprehensible.

The man had reached down to a bag at his side, this one a lot more ornate than the one that Xyiax’avin had. The man proceeded to draw an even more ornate dagger out of the bag and had started waving it wildly at Heth. Nathan remembered thinking that there was no way that the dagger should have been able to fit in the bag.

By this point, several people had been attracted by the shouting. Several people burst into the shop and, upon seeing the situation, began attempting to restrain the man. They were kept mostly at bay by his wild waving of the dagger

The Man shouted something about knowing who he was and ‘getting their filthy lowborn hands off of him’. A large muscled man had walked into the shop just prior, and hearing the tremark that the man had made–Nathan was pretty sure that the man was a noble–punched him in the face. The noble went limp and the large muscled man grabbed the dagger out of his hands.

“Thank you Clemus.” Uncle Heth had said to the man who had taken the dagger.

Clemus had grunted. “I’ll be taking this as payment.” He had announced to the room, the jewel encrusted dagger displayed in hand. Nobody had dared challenge the statement, so Clemus had walked out of the shop. The other people had filled out afterwards, one of them kicking the unconscious noble.

Uncle Heth had quickly darted forwards and patted down the Noble. He had cursed having apparently not found what he was looking for.

When Nathan had asked Uncle Heth what the item was. Heath had answered that it was the spatially expanded bag.

“That thing is probably worth ten times more than the dagger.” Heth had said with a sigh. “But someone else must have snatched it.”

Nathan took the robes that Xyiax’avin had handed him silently. As he walked around a bend in the tunnels and put them on, he decided that it was better not to ask Xyiax’avin.

If he wanted me to know, he would tell me.

Nathan walked back around the bend and greeted Xyiax’avin with a wave. “So,” Nathan started, “Where are we headed?”

“To the flora chamber. Where else?” Xyiax’avin answered with a chuckle as they continued walking.

“What makes this flora chamber so interesting?” Nathan asked Xyiax’avin.

“This flora chamber is the home base of the organization that the survivors of the cultists' betrayal formed.”

“The Trial Bound.”