“She made it,” Arvid let out a low whistle. “Although she looks a bit worse for wear.”

“Can you blame her?” Rúna chided from the side. “Who knows what she went through just now?”

“What do you think, Einar?” The warrior asked back, earning a sigh from the young giant who was deep in thought.

“This trial must be something else that can make even someone like Brynhildr cry.” The forgemaiden remarked from the side.

“Want to go next?” Arvid asked with a smirk.

“After you.”

“Fine,” the youth sighed. “Figured I would have to go first.”

They all watched as Brynhildr got back onto her feet, taking her reward before she walked back down, the torture she endured still visible on her pale white face. Some of the shieldmaidens came forth to help her walk aside, making her sit down as they gave her something to drink. Meanwhile, Arvid walked over to the stairs under the gaze of the terrified God-marked, giving a slight nod to a few of the women from Hellada before stepping on the first stone step. The young warrior walked up to the top in about two minutes, falling onto a half-kneeling position when he finished the trial.

“Damn, that hurt like... something that’s really painful!” He said loudly, some of the God-marked from the three groups letting out a chuckle at his antics.

The warrior took his earnings and walked back down, large beads of sweat flowing down his face as he gave a nod to Rúna.

“Good luck up there,” he said weakly before sitting down beside Einar, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. “You weren’t joking when you said it was going to hurt like nothing before.”

“Why would I joke about something like that?”

“Yeah,” Arvid sighed. “You’re not the kind of man to tell jokes. Just... wake me up later.”

With that, the youth leaned his head toward Einar’s shoulder, fainting a moment later. Rúna too managed to conquer the trial, standing tall when she reached the top. After claiming her reward, she stumbled down the stairs and sat down beside Arvid.

“Damn the gods!” Was all she could say before she too passed out.

Einar watched in silence for a while as his fellow Vikings tried to conquer the third trial one after the other. He was curious about what would happen if someone failed, based on what he felt during his own trial but the sight of the first failure answered that. One of the men stopped barely a few steps up, his hands reaching out towards the side. When his fingers reached the edge of the stairs, an eerie pale green flame sparked on his fingertips, rushing across his body. He could barely let out a terrified scream before the ghastly flames consumed him, leaving nothing but a handful of ash behind. The frightened crowd watched as an invisible force blew the ash away before the barrier around the structure vanished.

“This pyramid is home to many aggrieved and vengeful spirits,” a dark-skinned woman from the other kingdoms remarked. “That man’s soul just now was torn away from him and chained to the trial ground like those before him.”

‘A pyramid?’ Einar thought to himself, finding no comfort in the foreign word that was likely the name of the strange structure.

“This trial will kill anyone whose mind and soul aren’t strong enough to resist its illusions. I wish the Pharaoh would have let us train against such challenges before sending us here!”

“You dare question his decision,” another one of their group growled. “The mighty Pharaoh does not need weak-willed fools to protect his kingdom. If he would let us train against such things, then this trial would have lost its very purpose.”

“Purpose? What purpose could it have besides killing us off for wanting to see our loved ones again, or hoping to grow in power?” A warrior of Hellada reasoned.

The argument went on for a while as the God-marked from the different kingdoms tried to conquer the trial. An hour later Einar finally felt it was enough and woke up his friends.

“Wha... oh, sorry.” Rúna woke with a puzzled expression that soon turned into embarrassment.

“I’ll be heading out now,” the seeker claimed. “Could you watch over Arvid?”

“Sure.” The forgemaiden nodded as she watched the young giant covertly pull out a fruit from his pouch.

“Here,” he whispered. “Eat this quickly!”

Rúna accepted the fruit, devouring it in two bites. The scorching heat that followed made her groan in pain for a moment as her body stiffened and her mind cleared.

“What was that?” She asked as a few other God-marked turned toward her after sensing the change in the air.

“Just something I picked up after fighting a drake to the death.” Einar said with a smirk before leaving.

He took a few steps toward the forest before leaping up with a force that made the ground shudder. A puff of black mist later the seeker was already flying away in his raven form, trying to gain height so that he could see the land better. The ancient forest beneath him seemed to me brimming with life as he saw small packs of deer, wolves and the like run along beneath the sparser tree crowns. He landed in a small glade when his spiritual strength waned, using the small stream there to wash up before continuing on foot. Switching between walking and flying, the seeker finally reached the next true area of interest just before noon. It was a weathered and crumbling stone arena with an altar in the middle and four flat stone slabs at the edge of the four sides. As Einar stepped closer to the altar, another ghostly voice began to whisper into his mind.

“You can be strong yet you will die if you are foolish. You can be swift yet you cannot outrun your bad decisions. If your mind is not as sharp as your weapon, then you will be forced to face the consequences of your own foolishness.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

A moment of silence followed as the familiar mystical wall appeared around the arena to prevent him from leaving.

“The trial of the mind will challenge you to a deadly game of wits where each wrong answer will lead to a fearsome fight against foes that want your death. Think hard but think fast! If the sand runs out it will be considered as you not knowing the answer. Each question answered will earn you a reward, each failure will earn you a chance to meet death. Your trial shall start now.”

As the voice disappeared, glowing words came to life on the stone slabs at the edge of the arena. Einar let out a sigh as he walked over one of the stone slabs to examine it. It looked similar to the wall in his inner world, the faintly glowing embers on its searches forming words he could read. A pair of unlit braziers stood on both sides of the wall. ‘At night we come without being fetched and by day we are lost without being stolen. We can draw, we can fall and we will forever stand above all. Who are we?’ He read the words, his mind in disarray. The seeker re-read it twice before even noticing that the words were slowly fading from the wall, crumbling off of it like grains of sand.

“Damn!” he muttered what the final notice that the time was running out. “I... you’re the stars of the night sky!”

The young giant froze in place after blurting out the answer he came up with, hoping that he was right. A moment later golden flames burst to life in the braziers, a tiny mote of their fire splitting off to float over to the altar. ‘I guess I was right.’ Einar sighed relieved as he turned and headed toward the next wall piece. The second wall also had a spark of flame burning on it that began to write words on the stone as soon as he got close enough to read them.

‘I am dark, but my birthplace is a radiant one. A flightless fowl, from the earth into the sky I soar. I bring forth tears, yet sorrow's not the cause. My life, though brief, leaves watchers in awe. What could I be?’ He read the next riddle, trying to find an answer for it. After a minute of silent thinking, the words faded from the wall and crimson flames burst to life in the brazier. Einar watched with dread as the flames spilt over the rusty metal basket and snaked across the floor. They pooled into dark red circles across the arena's stones, clawed hands reaching out from the flames.

‘Are those... wretches?’ Einar stared at the creatures with a dumbstruck expression. They looked eerily similar to the netherworld wretches he fought before, but these had red flames coursing through their veins, lighting up their malformed bodies from the inside out. The creatures screamed with fire-choked voices that made him wince, the sword he drew shaking in his grasp as he tried not to look away from his enemies. The first fiery wretch lunged at him, swiping at him with red-hot claws. He swung the two-handed sword in a shallow arc to meet the clawed hands, cutting off the first one and lodging into the other.

Einar didn’t stop for a moment as he stomped the creature in the guts, sending it flying backwards while yanking his blade free, only to swing at the second nearest monstrosity. One of the creatures managed to rake its claws across an unprotected part of his armour, leaving shallow white lines on Einar’s skin. His strengthened draconic hide feat proved its worth in the fight and the seeker cleaved the wretch in half with a mighty swing. Soon, all three of his attackers were dead, their bodies burning away into nothingness.

Einar sighed and walked back to the stone wall where the glowing words appeared again, showing the same riddle. The giant read it again in hopes of finding an answer. He looked at the braziers where the red flame died out to give life to the glowing words, a faint smoke escaping the metal baskets. ‘Smoke?’ He thought to himself, enlightened by what he had seen.

“Are you... smoke?” The seeker asked from no one in particular.

A few seconds of silence later golden flames sparked in the braziers, a piece of them floating over to the altar. ‘I guess it was accepted.’ The youth thought relieved while walking over to the third stone slab where a new riddle lit up on the weathered wall. ‘Great deeds with little strength I do, I close the open, open the closed for you. I keep the master’s house, the master keeps me, too.’ The riddle was strangely worded, yet it felt meaningful and the seeker had a few ideas for the answer. ‘It could be a thrall or...’ The moment he guessed, crimson flames burst into life in the braziers on the sides of the wall.

“Damn it!” He cursed at the flames that spilt from the braziers and snaked along the floor, summoning six of the fiery wretches.

These seemed a bit larger and tougher than the ones before. The first one got split in half before it even managed to stand up and the giant kicked another one away as well. Einar knew that something was changing in him these past days but seeing the wretched creature fly back like a half-filled mill sack made him shudder at the thought of his own might. This was not the strength of mortals. The relative ease with which he killed off his attackers made him realize that whatever he earned from killing the creatures of the island as well as the blessings of the Gods was indeed pushing him toward new heights of power.

His musings ended as the last of the wretches fell on the floor, burning into nothingness. Einar tried his best to shake off the strange thoughts of grandeur as he walked back to the stone wall where the riddle appeared again. He read it again but his thoughts returned to the same circle they followed before. Masters had servants and maybe...guards. The seeker accidentally muttered the word aloud, the blood-red flames returning in its wake with a dozen monsters. ‘Harald’s beard! I was just thinking!’ The seeker complained inwardly as the flame-wrought wretches returned, this time holding weapons of their own.

They held age-old daggers and short swords that glowed at the edge of the monsters’ fires. Einar managed to kill off two of the creatures before having to summon his frost shield to protect himself from the red-hot dagger that was swung toward his face. The tip of the blade drew a hissing line on the shield's surface where it melted. The weapons of his enemies are more dangerous than he thought them to be, forcing the giant to fight with an increased sense of caution.

Even with increased strength and agility, he failed to block a few attacks that left scorched cuts on his skin or slight burn marks on his armour. When the last of the creatures fell, Einar shook off the battle rush that surged through him, before walking back to the stone wall. With his head clearing up, the riddle felt different as well, his thoughts stopping on several possible answers before the pieces of the riddle finally made sense to him. ‘The master keeps something and through that, they can open and close doors. What kind of a fool am I to not realize it sooner?’ He scolded himself as he took a deep breath.

“A key.” He said firmly and golden flames flickered to life in the braziers a moment later.

Thinking back on how he failed the riddle twice made Einar feel embarrassed but the sight of the golden flame floating toward the altar made all of it worth it. Now, he was only one riddle away from fully conquering the trial. He could have walked over to the altar to claim his earnings now, but he was far too stubborn to give up on a chance of something valuable just because he might have to fight a couple of wretches for it. The final wall piece showed the last riddle which he read slowly and carefully.

‘What walks on four feet in the morning, two in the afternoon, and three at night?’ The seeker read it again, his mind in utter chaos. ‘What kind of question is that?’ He fumed with anger. Animals didn’t just grow or lose legs on a whim. That much even he knew. His angry pondering was interrupted when the words on the wall faded and the braziers lit up with red flames.

‘Damn you all!’ He cursed inside as he rushed forward, hacking apart the nearest wretch that climbed out of the fires that spread across the arena’s floor.