Who knew two hours could pass by so slowly. Initially, I wanted to take this time to relax for once, but the boredom that accompanied this decision overwhelmed me very quickly. I didn’t even last five minutes. Left with no other choice, I opted to use this time to train. I thought it would be best to practice pureflow control in this particular setting. In order to do that, I have been sitting in the lotus position for quite a while, attempting to identify the fundamental rhythms of the muscles used when swinging a sharpsong. Occasionally, I’ll stand up, swing an imaginary sharpsong to visualize muscle activation, then sit back down. Since this topic has yet to be covered in Professor Rivaldo’s class, I am mostly going off of instinct, prior knowledge, as well as trial and error.
Meanwhile, I’ve also taken the liberty to throw a few glances at the time in order to be aware of how much longer I'll be stuck in the room. Now, around a hundred and twenty minutes have passed, meaning that at most, thirty minutes remain before the trial is forcefully brought to a close. Every time a new set of immersion pods lift their lids, the man standing guard at the door will repeat the same message. Some will be disappointed with their results, some will wear a prideful look, and others will have a more… complicated expression. When there are only ten more minutes left on the clock, I decide to stop my training. Because I have barely made any progress in the last two hours, I do not think that ten more minutes will change anything. Plus, I highly anticipate the opening of the last set of immersion pods, making it difficult to focus on training.
In fact, only one group remains, and since I have yet to see Ivana and Sylvia, they must both be in that group. Finally, when the timer hits zero, the last group comes out. Bursts of steam rise as the pods’ sealing comes undone. I look for my two friends from within the crowd, but something rapidly grabs my attention. Almost every single trainee that I glance upon carries the same look. That look is much different from the ones I’ve seen before. It’s difficult to put my finger on it. If I were to compare it, they resemble those Sophia’s victims were wearing, but worse, much worse. Instead of terror, it would be more appropriate to refer to this as despair, a despair so intense it makes me wonder what horrors occurred in the last group’s trial. It does not take me long to spot Ivana. I walk towards her.
“Hey! Ivana! Wait up!”
She turns around startled. “Oh, hey Alden.”
I notice her strange, almost somber, tone of voice. “...Is everything alright? Did you pass?” I ask.
She waves her hand dismissively. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. I passed too, everything’s fine.”
“What about Sylvia, where is sh-”
A soft voice originating from behind me reaches my ears. “I’m right here, and I’m okay too, but thanks for worrying.”
Sylvia’s tone is a bit more uplifted, but that is just how she is. I can clearly tell from the way both of them speak, that something must have happened in there. A moment of awkward silence elapses.
“Is either of you going to tell me what happened or what?” I say, slightly agitated.
Sylvia lets out a long sigh. “It’s a long story, so I’ll give you the short version-”
‘Was it really that bad?’
“-Our battlefield was built in the image of a labyrinth of caves with seemingly no exit. The inside was extremely dark, making it difficult to navigate or locate enemies. It was made in such a way that anyone with a [melody] which allowed them to produce light or see through the darkness had an overwhelming advantage.” She makes a pause to catch her breath, then resumes.
“Through a stroke of luck, I ran into Ivana early on, and we were able to travel together. As we made our way through the labyrinth, we met a few enemies, which we were able to dispatch fairly easily… However, some of them were strange.” Her expression turns dark.
“What do you mean by strange?” I ask.
Sylvia, takes a moment to carefully select her next words and finally answers my question. “A few of them moved…oddly, for a lack of better words. It was to a point where some of our fights were far too easy.”
“Are you sure that wasn’t just because you guys are way too strong?” I say with a scoff, but neither of them seem in the mood for humor.
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“...No. It was not a simple difference in skill. Something was out of place”
Ivana adds her input. “Yeah, they looked like puppets being controlled by a clumsy puppeteer. No technique, no [melody], just haphazardly flailing their instruments around.”
I raise an eyebrow. “...Alright, that’s weird, sure, but I still don't understand what’s got you two like this and the others like that” I say as I point to the exiting participants of the last group.
“I’m getting to it…”
Sylvia proceeds to recount the entirety of their trial. She explains that after the first few encounters, they hardly met anyone in the caves. They wandered its insides for what seemed like an eternity until they chanced upon a large cave opening from which light was being emitted. They entered, thinking it might unexpectedly lead to an exit. The scene before them was nothing short of shocking. One participant was sitting on a throne constructed from a few of the other participants while a dozen more stood in front of him, idle. They had all sorts of incisions on their bodies from which no blood flowed, no matter how deep they were. When Sylvia and Ivana entered, two of them were forced to slowly lacerate each other using their sharpsongs while the others watched, most likely waiting for their turn. Their horrifying screams echoed in the cave opening. The trainee who sat on the throne of flesh laughed loudly as he enjoyed the show.
****A recount of the trial’s events from Sylvia’s POV****
If before I wondered just where all the participants had gone, now I know. A grotesque scene is being displayed right before mine and Ivana’s eyes. A man with long, flowy, coal black hair which somewhat resembles Alden’s, and blood red pupils sits atop a throne made of flesh. Quite literally, a handful of trainees have fashioned their bodies into a chair in order to create a seat for the man.
A ball of light levitates near his face, illuminating his figure and the entire cave in which he resides. Before I am even allowed to process the sight, an agonizing scream resonates throughout the entire cave. My attention shifts to its origin and I see a pale girl slowly driving a sharpsong into a an even paler man’s stomach who’s screams only intensify as the instrument bites deeper into his flesh. With tears, and trembling hands, the girl begs the man sitting on the throne.
“P-Please, just eliminate us! Why are you doing this?!”
With an annoyed look he replies. “Can you shut up? I’m trying to focus!”
The girl lodges the sharpsong deeper into the man’s stomach and he lets out another powerful wail. I am unsure as to the specifications, but I know that whatever it is that is occurring within this cave, it is wrong. I calmly raise my voice, shifting everyone’s attention to Ivana and I.
“What is the meaning of this?”
The man sitting on the throne shifts his head in my direction. “Ohhh? Well if it isn’t the FullCastle lady? What an honor to meet you! Please, come closer, I’ll create a seat for you!”
The trainees on which he rests shift and squirm, creating more place for me to sit. After arranging the accommodation, the man squints his crimson eyes and looks to my right. There he sees Ivana, who wears an expression of confusion mixed with a tinge of disgust.
“The Rodwell heiress as well?! What luck! I’ll make as much space as we need, both of you come closer!”
Perplexed by the situation but still able to maintain her cool, Ivana answers him before I can.
“We’ll be passing on that offer… Can you explain what’s going on here?”
He scratches the back of his head as if we have discovered an embarrassing little hobby of his. With an awkward smile he points to the two trainees in the center of the cave. “Oh, you mean this? Well, it’s nothing much, just a little experiment to kill time!”
The scene before me cannot be described as a ‘little experiment’. Even though I fail to understand it, it is evident that something is amiss. I frown. “What are you doing to them?”
“Ah right, you must not know because I’m rather low in the rankings. Let me introduce myself, Feyrin Windshadow at your service! My [melody] allows me to manipulate my own blood!”
Irritated, I cut his introduction short. “Answer the question, Feyrin.”
He replies with a smile, and steps down from his makeshift throne. “My apologies, Lady FullCastle! You see, I’m not exactly proficient in battle, that much I have been aware of for most of my life, even before [enlightenment]. However, there is something I excel at-”
His smile grows larger and he grabs one of the frozen trainee’s cheeks. “-When I inject people with my blood, as soon as it reaches their heart, it is distributed throughout their body, and they become susceptible to falling under my control. Of course, if they’re much stronger than I am, it won’t really work, but that’s exactly why I’ve personally sought out the weakest of the weakest in this trial!”
‘How was he even able to find them in these caves…’
As his explanation unfolds, the implications behind the current state of the inside of this cave sets in. I look around, trying to solidify my understanding. I first glance at the girl pushing a sharpsong into a man’s stomach, then to the other trainees whose bodies are riddled with injuries, then once more to the duo. Inevitably, my gaze meets the girl’s teary eyes, and she pleads with me.
“Please! Lady FullCastle, Miss Rodwell! He’s been torturing us relentlessly for hours! He refuses to eliminate us no matter how much we plead with him, we’re being treated as playthings! Please put an end to this, I beg of you both!”
Feyrin clicks his tongue. “Who allowed you to speak?” and the girl’s lips are sealed shut.
‘I understand now… To think he'd go this far in a mere DaiKar virtual trial… How sick.’
A shiver travels down my spine as everything finally makes sense, I imagine it must be the same for Ivana. However, it will take much more than that to destabilize us, especially after what happened in that forest. While this situation is certainly unsettling, I am far from afraid. I’d say I’m repulsed at best. Compared to that time, this is no better than a distasteful joke. Ivana slowly raises her sharpsong and I do the same with my warchord. Freyrin tilts his head in response.
“Hm? Why do I sense some hostility? Is something not to your liking ladies?” He says with genuine confusion.
Ivana points her instrument towards him. “You’re sick Freyrin, torture and torment aren’t values taught at DaiKar, or anywhere really. We’ll put an end to all this and report you to the Professors.”
I add onto her words. “Prepare yourself.” I say before lunging at him.