The group moved through the narrow corridors in silence, their steps barely making a sound on the stone floor. They’d split into pairs, each scouting a different section, taking mental notes on the other groups they encountered.
A group of older kids passed by them in formation, whispering hurried instructions, their faces serious and eyes hard. Hannah pressed herself against the wall, her breath shallow, motioning for the others to do the same. As the group passed, she caught glimpses of the hardened resolve in their expressions, a mix of defiance and quiet desperation.
Nia nudged Hannah, nodding subtly at the group in the distance. “They look like they’re ready for war,” she murmured, a trace of unease in her voice.
“Or like they’re already in one,” Zephyr added, glancing around to make sure no one had noticed them. They couldn’t afford to be seen. Not yet.
Atlas put a finger to his lips, motioning for the others to stay silent as they all tried to listen in on the older kid’s tactics. The more they knew about how the other kids were approaching the competition, the better. Hannah had picked up from the travelling minstrels who had taken to her that knowledge was key in moments like these.
“...the competition…awesome!...We’ve gotta win…deserve powers too!”. The older voices spoke in hushed whispers of amazement, a brightness to their eyes. Of course. There was going to be some people who threw themselves into playing house with this godforsaken place. Most of the kids Hannah had seen appeared to have been in rough shape. Taken in from the slums. This place essentially turned the abandoned into whatever they wished. Moulding and sculpting until they looked just right.
But for these kids, with no one to turn to. No-one who had shown them compassion, having experienced the harshness of the world at such young ages could feel nothing but love and adoration for the wondrous man who had ‘rescued’ them. The angel-like being with golden hair and fair skin, who had promised them he would teach them strength. To finally be given a purpose to their lives, was their own salvation.
A twisted salvation, but salvation nonetheless. Hannah could feel pity for them, but she truly didn’t. Pity wouldn’t get her anywhere. She was going to have to go toe-to-toe with these people soon, and it’s not like they were the only ones flung into this hell either. She wasn’t about to go easy on them because of their own delusions. As the kids continued to chatter about the grace of Andrius Hannah stealed her resolve, moving away from the wall to motion to the others to keep going. They wouldn’t get any more information out of them right now.
Just as they rounded another corner, they froze. Typhon stood in the hallway, his back to them, humming softly to himself. The tune was lighthearted, almost playful, but the sound sent a chill down their spines. He paused, head cocked slightly, as if aware of their presence.
“Isn’t it fascinating,” he drawled, his voice carrying down the hall, “how some of you think you can tiptoe through shadows and avoid being seen?” He didn’t turn around, yet the casual menace in his words hung heavy in the air. “Careful now. You never know who’s watching.”
Typhon continued humming as he walked away, the echoes of his footsteps fading until the corridor was silent once more. None of them moved for a long, tense moment.
“That… was close,” Atlas whispered, his face pale.
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The air was thick with quiet anticipation as they slipped back into the room from their first day, the place that had first hinted at what lay ahead. Shadows stretched across the floor like dark tendrils, swallowing the corners in darkness, and the faint, earthy scent of damp stone and dust lingered around them. Nail marks and blood stains littered every wall and surface of the room, whispering to the history of what once was.
Hannah’s gaze drifted over each crevice, settling on the low, battered stool in the centre, a ghostly reminder of the old man who’d been there. It was empty now, but the memory of his words clung to the silence. She walked toward it, her fingers brushing the cold wall as she went, trailing over uneven patches and scratched carvings barely visible in the dim light.
Atlas squinted, eyes scanning the faint markings. “Looks like someone’s been here before us. A long time ago, maybe.” He reached out, fingertips grazing what seemed like symbols or letters, nearly worn smooth by years of rough hands. The room was certainly old looking, now that she could look at it in a better light. The thousands of scrapings and stains all had their own story to tell. Each, desperately wishing to be heard.
“Probably a lot of someones,” Nia murmured, tracing her fingers over scratches that ran deeper than the others, as though carved in a desperate hurry.
The quiet grew heavy, and in the dim glow from the single light overhead, each of them felt it: this was a place where others had come before, where people had waited, planned, maybe even despaired. The realisation sparked an unspoken bond among them. Hannah’s fingers clenched against the stone, a fierce resolve hardening in her chest. Whatever had happened in this room, they were part of it now, and, maybe for the first time, they weren’t alone in it.
As they moved back toward the door, Zephyr stopped, his eyes lingering on a faint drawing etched into a corner of the wall. He traced it with his finger—a symbol of two interlocking circles, like a loop.
“What do you think it means?” he asked, looking back at the others.
“Maybe something important,” Hannah said softly, her gaze lingering on the strange markings as they slipped out of the room, silent but more determined than ever.
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Later, they tracked down Dax’s group, huddled near the edge of the training grounds. Hannah held up a hand, signalling everyone to stay low. They watched as Dax whispered to his group, his hands moving animatedly as he explained something. They strained to hear but caught only snippets: “Get in before they do… tamper with… no way they’ll see it coming.”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Atlas exchanged a look with Zephyr. “Sounds like they’re planning something big,” he whispered.
“Cheating,” Zephyr muttered with a slight sneer, his fists clenched. “We should do something about it. Or at least make sure it doesn’t work.”
Hannah chewed her lip, calculating. Dax’s group had the numbers and, likely, the favour of their captors. Intervening could mean more trouble than it was worth—but leaving them unchecked could spell disaster.
“Maybe later,” she said, her voice firm. “For now, we watch.”
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As night settled over the complex, they slipped back into the room from their first day. Shadows stretched across the floor, and the faint scent of damp earth lingered. The low, battered stool was empty, yet the memory of the old man who’d greeted them still haunted the space.
Dax ran a hand over the rough walls, squinting at faint carvings in the stone. “Looks like someone’s been here before us.”
“Probably a lot of someones,” Atlas murmured, examining what appeared to be scratched-out symbols.
Hannah’s fingers traced the worn stone, and a wave of determination washed over her. Whatever had happened here, they were part of it now. And they weren’t alone.
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The group gathered in their own corner later, sitting in a rough circle to strategize. Nia’s arms were crossed, her eyes narrowing as she considered their options. Atlas and Ellie shared doubtful glances, but no one voiced it.
Atlas began, “Typhon said we were being tested on strength, agility, strategy and magic, so we should try and brainstorm what these types of sections might entail”.
Ellie nodded fervently, a serious look on her face as she pondered aloud, “strength…that’s probably the most straightforward one. A fighting match would make the most sense. It’s unlikely that they’d give us weapons, but they could make an exception?
“It could go either way, I think,” Zephyr added before continuing. “I used to stumble upon matches around my town. They’d have everyone match up, and the winner would advance to the next round.”
Zephyr considered Ellie’s words, nodding slowly. “Strength might involve sparring or one-on-one fights, like you said. But what if they also test us in groups, just to see how well we work together—or even against each other?”
Hannah’s face tightened. “If they pit us against each other, they’ll be looking to split us up. Make us compete, see who’s willing to betray the others for a win.” She glanced at the others. “We can’t let that happen. No matter what, we stick together.”
Nia gave a sharp nod. “Right. And if they bring weapons into it, we’ll need a plan for that too. We don’t know how to wield anything fancy, but… there are makeshift weapons.” She glanced down at her shoes, as if already imagining how her laces could be used as bindings or her soles as makeshift grips.
“For agility,” Ellie continued, “they might do more than just set us running. I’m thinking obstacle courses, maybe places we’ll need to climb or crawl through tight spaces. They’ll want to see if we panic, especially in confined areas.” Her hands clenched. “If that’s the case, we should start practising together now. Find places around here where we can get used to close quarters.”
Atlas nodded thoughtfully. “Confined spaces and climbing… right. But they might also want us to be fast under pressure—think ‘get to a destination without getting caught’ kind of thing. A stealth component. We’ll need to watch for guards, maybe even map out their routes.” He glanced at Hannah, a spark of determination in his eyes. “You said knowledge is key, right? Let’s turn this place into our own map. The more we know, the fewer surprises.”
Zephyr tapped his chin. “Strategy, then… if it’s not just about sneaking around or staying hidden, they might want us to face direct confrontation. Maybe they’ll separate us, push us to act on our own, make decisions that could cost us or someone else. We’ll have to train our minds to stay calm, to think before we act. Always.”
Hannah shifted, leaning in closer. “If we’re talking about controlling space or creating obstacles, then maybe we can find ways to map out the training grounds as we scout. There might be a way to hide things—caches of food, supplies, or even places to rest if we need it.”
Hannah took a deep breath. “And if they pull us aside, like you said, we can always signal each other if it’s safe. If one of us is missing, the others keep on gathering info, keep working together. And when we regroup, we tell each other everything.”
“And magic,” Ellie murmured, her brow furrowed. “If it’s real, and they want us to show it… we’re already at a disadvantage. But maybe that’s part of it. Maybe we’re meant to keep pushing ourselves until something snaps or… awakens.” Her expression was grim, as if the idea disturbed her.
Atlas looked around at the others, his voice firm. “Until then, we use what we know. Strength, agility, and strategy—all of that is in our control. We stick together, keep each other in the loop, and if they try to split us up, we find a way back. We’ll play this game, but on our terms.”
“But remember, Andrius gave us that drink. He called it a ‘gift.’ What if… what if that’s supposed to awaken something? Maybe magic is something we’re meant to unlock. We might need to do something extreme to make it happen.” He said it hesitantly, as if only half-believing it himself.
Hannah frowned, her mind going back to the unsettling sensation that had washed over her when she drank from the chalice. “We can’t rely on magic just yet. Let’s focus on what we can do, here and now. If the time comes and we’re expected to… show something, then we’ll cross that bridge.”
Ellie clasped her hands, determination stealing her gaze. “So for now, let’s agree on one thing: none of us makes a move without warning the others. No surprise attacks, no solo missions. We stick together.”
Hannah spoke, her tone soft but sure. “We have to assume that everything we do here is being watched—and scored. If we mess up, or don’t measure up, it’s going to cost us. What if… what if this whole competition has already started?”
The others glanced at each other, unease flitting across their faces. Zephyr shifted, something dawning on him as he looked at her.
“Wait,” he said, voice low but urgent. “Remember when Typhon ambushed us? I heard him say under his breath, ‘First to attack gets ten points.’” His eyes widened. “What if he was serious? What if he’s already keeping score?”
Zephyr’s suggestion hung in the air, filling the small room with a renewed sense of urgency. The group exchanged glances, weighing the implications of his words. Every glance, every whisper—it could all be tracked.
One by one, each of them nodded in agreement. Hannah took a breath, feeling the weight of their pact settle over them like a shared armour.
The group sat in silence, their pact settled, each of them absorbing the weight of what lay before them. Shadows flickered over their faces, casting them in sharp, determined lines. They understood now: this was not just a competition but a war for their survival. And they would only survive if they stayed united.
Hannah took a steadying breath, feeling the stone’s chill beneath her fingers. “No matter what they throw at us, we stick to the plan. We work together. They might think they’ve made us into rivals, but we’re more than that now.”
Zephyr, Atlas, Nia, and Ellie nodded, their expressions mirroring her conviction. One by one, they rose, a silent agreement shared between them.
As they made their way back through the shadowed halls, the faintest echo of footsteps trailed behind them—distant yet unmistakable. Whether it was a guard, Typhon, or merely the walls betraying them, they couldn’t be sure.
But for the first time since they arrived, Ha