I was sorry to see Maphen turned away but was sure he would figure something else out. It was also hard to keep my thoughts focused on him with the mystery of the Warrior rankings finally upon us. After the excitement of the Melee had faded, discussion about our placements had dominated our conversation in the Mess Hall. Many of my fellows had said that I was sure to be top amongst them, with Aldric being my loudest supporter; Tamra kept quiet on the matter, still smoldering about not being the one to bring Celeste down, losing to Shanel, and worst of all I was sure, me putting a nick in her sword when I drove it into the mountain.

I glanced at Aphos, the large Devout still watching Maphen leave. It was true I had won the ring, which still felt unnaturally thick on my finger, but I had no way of knowing how he would judge the results. Our Head of Hall could very well care more about who had eliminated the most other Neophytes, or other Warrior Neophytes specifically – something I hadn’t done at all. There was no way to know but I certainly wondered, just as I wondered what the rankings would mean. He had said that they would determine much, such as sleeping arrangements, but I was much more interested in the training component. Would a higher rank give us more time with our teachers, perhaps even one-on-one training with the Warrior Elder? I hadn’t seen them since my selection at the Scrying Pool, but I couldn’t get the image of their runic armor and floating swords and shields out of my mind.

When Aphos finally turned around, I followed him the rest of the way through the sword curtain. Trailing in his wake didn’t provide me any additional protection. In fact, it made things worse, the blades swinging back into position with greater speed after having been pushed wide by his muscled frame. However, it was a good opportunity to practice my toughened skin while on the move. I did so by tensing the parts of myself that I could keep still, like my arms, chest and upper back. I also tensed my face, scalp, ears, and neck to be safe, but nearly all the blades bounced off my shoulders, so there was little need.

The truth was, I didn’t feel like the champion of the Melee. I had nearly died at the end of it – or perhaps I had, I still wasn’t entirely sure – and while I understood that such a thing could easily be my fate in the War Above, doing so prematurely would be a waste. Worse, I had lost each of my companions along the way: Aldric, then Maphen, and finally Tamra. Each time I had lacked the quickness of thought and control to stop their demise. Before The Guardian had spoken in my mind, urging me to press onward, I was unsure how I could succeed at protecting those close to me after such a failing.

Persist I would though, and while praying in the Cathedral, I thought I had some partial answers – answers that could become whole depending on my placement.

The Acolytes were waiting, all eighteen of them, making a line that stopped us from walking very far into the circular room and from turning around – those who tried earned cheek slaps from the older students and a raised finger of reprimand. The line of red and orange hair parted for Aphos though, and when he spun about to look at us, we could have seen him even over the heads of the Acolytes, such was the growth his newest mastery had given him.

“You have fought in your first Melee,” he said in his commanding voice, “and are willing to fight more, which makes all of you true Warriors. But the Conquerer strives for victory both without and within, meaning only one of you can stand at the peak. Look behind you now to see who has claimed that spot.”

I had assumed Aphos would announce each of our rankings in turn, working his way up from the bottom, but when I turned around I discovered along with my brothers and sisters that the wooden blades over the entrance arch had already been burned with our names. Instinctually, my eyes lifted to the top, just below the first steel sword of the Acolytes. And there I was, the four letters of Sett blackening the chestnut blade, a metal hilt further differentiating my sword from those of the other Neophytes.

“The winner was obvious,” Aphos said, and I felt a large hand land on my shoulder. “He may have failed to kill any of his fellow Warriors, but he stood toe-to-toe with one, and took down two black tunics, a green, and the only purple. Most importantly, he was the Melee’s champion, which brought glory to our Hall and gave a double victory to the Warriors this day.” That pronouncement elicited a cheer from the group, coming from the Acolytes most strongly. During this, I felt Aphos lean down, whispering in my ear. “There are none more driven than those who climb. You will need to work harder than all of them combined to stay ahead.” He leaned back, his booming words cutting through the cheers. “But the conqueror one day can be conquered the next. There will be another Melee in a week’s time, and the winner of it shall not only rise in our rankings but claim young Sett’s prize.”

This brought a much louder cheer from the Neophytes, some eyeing me hungrily, just as Aphos had said.

Only a week? I thought in shock. I hadn’t even gotten to use the ring yet and it could be gone so soon?

“A drink!” Aphos bellowed, and the Acolytes took up his cheer. “A drink, a drink,” they chanted, as they circled among us, pressing cups into our hands. I accepted mine without seeing who gave it to me, still worrying about losing the very thing I had hoped would solve my problem. That was until I saw Tamra and Aldric sharing a heated conversation, and I realized that I hadn’t looked at their rankings yet, poor brother that I was to them. I looked back at the wooden swords, scanning through the entire list this time:

1st - Sett

2nd - Shanel

3rd - Hyro

4th - Aldric

5th - Tamra

6th - Koffer

7th - Emsi

8th - Chikra

9th - Gimit

10th - Deq

11th - Ivun

There were many placements I couldn’t fathom, which proved that Aphos had indeed evaluated us differently than I’d expected, at least in part. What stood out to me most though was Tamra not only being outside the top three but also below Aldric even though she had survived much longer than he had. No wonder she looked ready to bite nails.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

There was some satisfaction in seeing Ivun at the bottom of the placements – apparently Aphos viewed chasing poor Healers around with as much disdain as I did – but that was overshadowed by the loss of two of our members: Fia and Leeks, both of whom had bowed out in the Cathedral.

Could I have somehow helped them during the Melee or after in the Mess? I had been so focused on those speaking, I hadn’t noticed the people who were keeping to themselves, likely still hurting from wounds that couldn’t be waved away by a Healer. And now they were gone, shrinking our army before we even reached the battlefield.

“Well,” Aphos boomed. “Drink!”

We did so, but I was slower than most, merely sipping the tart drink while many others threw back the entire cup, as if this was a new challenge to be won and one they would do so with vigor; some even requested that they be given another.

But the Acolytes didn’t have more for us, and Aphos was watching us in a way I found peculiar: half expectant, half amused if I had to guess.

“Well,” he eventually asked, “feel any different?”

“Why?” tall Shanel asked, her voice a full octave deeper than I had ever heard her speak before, maybe from the mantle or perhaps in newfound confidence at being ranked second among us. “What was in it?”

Aphos grinned with his perfect, glowing teeth, and I noticed Tamra getting a bit of her good cheer back. “An antidote."

“For what?” Aldric asked, his mood dipping for the same reason that Tamra’s was on the rise.

“Why, for the suppressant the instructors in the Crim have been feeding you your entire lives. The one that guttered your libido to almost nothing.”

My eyes widened, many around me began talking on top of each other before I could barely put two thoughts together about this revelation.

“They what?”

“Are you sure?”

“Why would they do that?”

The half full cup in my hand suddenly felt much heavier, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to keep drinking it. Neophytes next to me seemed equally nervous, but more about each other than what they had just consumed.

“They couldn’t afford to stop your education or training if one of you became pregnant, or leave you with a tie to Misfell when your goal needed to be entering the Tower.” Our Head of Hall explained this calmly, smiling the whole time as if he had been looking forward to giving this speech. “Best to have you all be brothers and sisters and make such fornication forbidden. I’m sure you’ve felt the occasional pang for a gormek in town, or perhaps even each other and the thrill of breaking a rule, but that is nothing to what you will soon feel,” his smile widened, “or what you’re already starting to.”

Nervous chatter sprung up like a buzz among us Neophytes, paired with awkward shifting and repositioning. Most everyone was trying to simultaneously look at each other and yet not, as if doing so still invited a sin. For my part, I was feeling a gradual change. A pull of sorts toward an Acolyte who stood beside Aphos. She was taller than me, of course, with orange hair shot through with streaks of red. It fell straight over her strong shoulders and down to her chest. I found myself wanting to run my fingers through that hair, to smell it even.

I dropped my hand with the cup down by my side. I definitely wouldn’t be having anymore of that concoction, at least not tonight. It took a moment but I eventually found my voice, focusing on Aphos and Aphos only.

“Don’t the same problems exist for us here as did in the Crim? Isn’t the Everwar closer now and distractions even more dangerous than they were before?”

Aphos quirked an eyebrow my way, and a number of the Acolytes chuckled, including the older girl whose name I did not know. I found myself suddenly more embarrassed than normal and couldn’t rightly say why.

“A valid question from your champion,” Aphos said with a laugh, quieting the others with his hands, “though one not normally asked. In the Tower, you cannot conceive, so there is no danger.”

“But what of…” I knew about sex and conception – we had learned about anatomy and reproduction in the Crim – but saying the proper words aloud seemed much harder than it should have been, “...other distractions.”

Aphos smiled at me knowingly. “Those are deemed by the Prophet to be worth the exchange. In the Melee and your classes, you will often experience the worst of what this world has to offer. So, the Ascended who came before decided long ago that at other times we should get to experience the best. This is why the food in the Mess is prepared with such care and using the freshest ingredients available.” There was a murmur of ascent from us all; the meal after the Melee had been by far the tastiest I’d ever had. “Why you were made privy to The Guardian and the secrets of Sharell.” I nodded with him at that; it had easily been the most profound experience of my life. “And the same is true for sex. The sheer joy of it has saved many an Ascended-to-be from the madness that would otherwise consume them from so many deaths. So go, frolic with each other.”

There was movement among us, but no one started kissing or paired off that I could see.

“Following the lead of your champion, eh?” Aphos said with another laugh. “I know a lifetime of thinking can be hard to break, but you’ve all died at least once since leaving the Crim. Let that sever the bonds of siblinghood between you. You are all Warriors, true. Ascended who will war against the greater demons above, most assuredly. But for now your bodies know what to do even if your minds do not. Listen to them.”

We all stood there another moment, and then Shanel grabbed the tunic of an orange-haired Acolyte that was a bit taller than her and smashed her lips into his.

“Aho!” Aphos chortled. “That works, too!”

Shanel’s actions unlocked whatever reservations remained among my fellows, some of whom shrieked and grunted as they flung themselves at each other or tried their luck with the Acolytes. Deq took a kiss from Emsi, and Chikra and Ivun moved toward an alcove, their bodies pressed close and their weapons dragging on the floor after them, nearly forgotten. Tamra and Aldric – I closed my eyes to stop my search for them. Did I really want to see the two of them together if they were doing something like this?

I felt someone close beside me, and my eyes popped open, my heart pounding faster in fear than at any point during the Melee, as ridiculous as that was. But it was just Deq moving by, toward the Acolyte I had wanted to smell. I didn’t watch to see if she consented to his advance, spinning around and walking the other direction. I think someone might have tried to speak to me, but I stiffened the parts of my body that I could while still moving and pressed past those nearby.

The Warrior’s Hall was a wide circle and quite tall, but in that moment it felt like the smallest space I had ever been in – like there wasn’t enough air for us all to breathe. My chest felt tight, even though I wasn’t stiffening, and I headed toward the alcove that led to the sword curtain, thinking only of escape. I was almost to the entrance archway when I spotted Emsi off to the side, sitting in one of the lower sleeping alcoves by herself.

I slowed to a stop, unsure how to proceed. I always did precisely as my instructors taught, trusting that, with their experience, they knew better than I. It was a simple truth; one I never understood why so many others in the Crim had trouble following. Yet here I was, avoiding a direct command from Aphos, who was clearly my superior.

To my shock, my body and mind didn’t care – they just wanted the uncomfortable feelings churning within me to end and saw the door out as the only way to accomplish that. I took another step to go, but then I saw how sad Emsi looked, not joyful as she should have after sharing a kiss with Deq.

Was this the face that Leeks and Fia had worn after the Melee that I had missed? Was this my chance to prevent another of my brothers and sist – I sighed in frustration – another of my fellow Warriors from leaving?

Forcing in a tight breath, I turned toward her, praying to The Seven that I could do my duty.