An awkward silence prevailed over the courtyard. The mood in the crowd had shifted, many now watching him with a less than friendly glare, but the Keeper ignored them, rolling the dice again. It danced across the tossled stands, coming to a stop at the feet of the next combatant. “Alright, Laylah, you’re up next,” the Keeper called.

Jasper was relieved to see the thin, if rather curvy, woman step forward - not because she was a woman, but because she wasn’t one of the crowd shooting daggers at him. The Djinn flashed him a quick smile, even greeting him with a cutesy wave. “Well, you certainly know how to make an impression,” she noted.

“Begin!” The Keeper shouted, cutting off his response.

The fight was in many ways the reverse of the previous battle. Laylah was small and exceptionally fast; no matter how hard Jasper tried, he could not block all of her blows. Within seconds, blood was trickling from half a dozen nicks on his skin. But Laylah didn't have the brute strength to overcome his skin's resistance to slash damage. Sure, her blows stung but they were far from crippling and unliked Abnu, she couldn't afford to merely shrug off his blows. A much more even fight than the first, this time she was the one constantly dancing out of his reach, although he managed to get a few punishing blows in.

When the time ended, Laylah ceased immediately, performing a little half-bow in his direction before sauntering back into the crowd. The Keeper didn’t wait long to cast the dice again. Unfortunately, this time it did land on one of the less friendly faces in the crowd.

A burly Djinn strode forward. Dressed in simple leather armor, his long black hair was pulled away from his cheeks to reveal that a face that Jasper would usually have described as remarkably handsome, if not for the ugly set of his eyes, which roiled with barely suppressed anger. He nodded tersely at Jasper, tossing his sword and scabbard to the side as he took his stance.

"Begin!"

The Keeper had barely spoken the words when the Djinn launched himself at Jasper. He raced across the sands so fast his feet barely touched the ground, but Jasper was a little better prepared this time. Expecting the attack, he feinted to the side, pretending to dodge, and the Djinn took the bait. His fist whipped through the air where Jasper was supposed to have been with an audible crack, but what the Djinn had not expected was for Jasper to actually go on the attack. Mustering a roar of his own, Jasper tackled his opponent around the waist. With a twist of his hips, he tossed the started warrior to the ground, but not before the Djinn managed to snag his leg, dragging Jasper down with him.

The two rolled across the sand, fighting to come out on top, while the Djinn warrior bellowed in anger, a steady stream of incomprehensible words flowing from his mouth as he activated some sort of skill. Jasper knew he was no match for the burly Djinn's strength - he had to get out of there as quickly as possible. His one free hand flailed around, looking for something to use, and his fingers grazed the sandy floor of the arena. Snatching up a handful of the stuff, he tossed it straight in the man's face. Some of the sand got into his eyes, blinding the warrior, but the vast majority went straight down his open mouth. Whatever skill the Djinn had been trying to activate was cut off as the warrior's words devolved into a fit of coughing and spluttering.

Thus the Djinn failed to block the knee that was slammed into his face, and the follow-up blow to his ears. Jasper pressed his luck a little too far, though, as he grabbed the man's shoulders, prepared to deliver another knee to the nose. But the Djinn was ready this time. Intercepting, the incoming leg, he jerked it to the side. With a screech of pain, Jasper was slammed into the ground, his toughened bones somehow holding together, but the Djinn gave him no time to respond. Leaping on top of him, the warrior rained down a flurry of fists on his head.

"Time."

The warrior's hand, already raised high above his head, faltered. Then, after a long, tense moment, he dropped it to his side. Without speaking a word, he released Jasper. The Djinn didn't offer him a helping hand up, but slipped back into the crowd silently - not before, however, shooting Jasper one final angry stare.

The Keeper stepped forward and, offering Jasper a hand, lifted him up to stand beside her. "Well done, applicant. You have endured the threefold trial, and earned the right to call yourself one of us - on a probationary level, of course," she added as an afterthought. The wrinkles that lined her face disappeared as the old woman flashed him a quick smile. "I must admit, I had rather low expectations for you, especially after you drew Abnu, but you did well to persevere. I'm sure your mother would have been of proud." She patted his hand, before turning back to the rest of the onlookers. "I trust you all will join me in welcoming our new member," she said, with the warning note plain to hear in her voice.

The cult members dispersed quickly. Most of them disappeared out the front entrance in the direction of the hot springs, and Jasper tried to ignore the unfriendly glances shot his direction. There was one bright spot though - Laylah gave him a friendly wave before she departed, her hips swaying rather exaggeratedly as she sauntered across the sands. But the Keeper gave him no time to watch her leave. As soon as the majority of the crowd had left, she tugged on his hand impatiently. "Come, follow me."

Curious, Jasper trailed after her, taking in the scenery of the temple as they walked. Now the combat was finished, it was surprisingly quiet in the temple; their footsteps were the only sound echoing down the smooth sandstone corridors, the walls built of blocks so large that Jasper surmised they must have been built with the use of magic. The sanctuary's architecture was much simpler than the almost baroque style that dominated most of the cities he had seen, reminded Jasper closely of the temple to Selene in Als̆arratu, whose sleek, minimalistic style felt more appropriate to some sci-fi space opera than a fantasy setting.

The Keeper, however, was not interested in his architectural musings, dragging him into her office. Closing the door behind him, the old woman sighed as she settled into her chair, fixing her lilac eyes on him with a hint of irritation. “That was most unfortunate.”

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Jasper didn’t bother hiding his scowl. “Yes, it was. Do your members normally attack applicants?”

The Keeper looked startled. “No, nott that. Yes, Abnu lost his temper but that is to be expected. He is actually one of our better warriors but in the heat of battle, he sometimes loses…perspective. I suppose that was unfortunate, but I was talking about what you did.”

“What?” Jasper nearly fell out of his chair. “What I did? I was only defending myself.”

“Sit down." She waited for him to comply, and reluctantly he settled back into the chair, biting back his surprise and anger. "You’re not in trouble. You are, however, naive.” The Keeper's eyes turned toward the window, staring blankly out for a moment, before meeting his again. “I suppose it is not really your fault. You may be a legacy, but your mother died before she could teach you about the cult.”

“Magic is a sensitive topic here. The cult is not merely a group devoted to the worship of our goddess; it is also a group of warriors who are dedicated - nay, passionate - about testing themselves in battle and improving their skills. They work very hard to be the best that they can." A slightly bitter smile broke across her lips. "They also live with the knowledge that no matter how hard they try, unless they’re fortunate enough to unlock a special class, a powerful mage can erase them with a wave of their hand, not to mention living under the constant shadow of more powerful ancestors.”

“You took that insecurity and rubbed it in their faces. Some won’t care, but for many, it will be a long time before they are willing to welcome you into the group. You should have let me handle Abnu.”

“But what’s done is done.” The Keeper pushed some papers toward him. “You did as well as any mage could be expected to do, especially given your unfortunate luck in combatants. You have more than earned the right to join our brotherhood.”

Jasper picked up the papers, flipping through them curiously. Paperwork? I guess even in another world you can’t escape bureaucracy.

He filled out the forms as best as he could, turning them back into her a few moments later. The Keeper didn’t even bother to check them, tossing them onto her desk. “You can now wear your mother’s ring or, if you prefer, you may commission a new one. Your ring will grant you access to all our temples.” She hesitated. “There are also free rooms here that you and your partner,” she nodded at Ihra, “can stay in, if you wish. Given the events of the duel, it’s possible some might hassle you, though.”

Jasper didn’t need to weigh his choices. Whatever Kas̆dael wanted him to find was going to be here at the temple, not at some inn in the resort town. “I’ll stay here,” he smiled up at her.

The Keeper’s expression might have been mistaken for a frown, but she didn’t object, simply nodding briskly. “Very well. I’ll have a servant guide you to the rooms. Feel free to grab whatever’s empty.”

He stood up to leave, but she stopped him before he left the room. “Before you go, I feel I should warn you about Laylah. She’s a talented warrior, whose skill with the dagger rivals the best among us, but she’s also a cunning schemer. She has no doubt pegged you as a naive young lord who might serve as her meal ticket. Unless you wish to find yourself with a bastard of your own, you would do well to reject her advances. I knew your mother long ago, and she was a fine woman. She was also a naive romantic and it cost her a great deal.” The Keeper’s gaze softened. “Don’t make her mistakes, Jasper.”

He nodded respectfully, staring back at the old woman with new interest. “I’ll keep that in mind, Keeper.”

As Jasper crawled into the uncomfortable cot later that night, he spared one glance around the room. Unlike the luxurious town outside, the cult of Nahrēmah clearly had little use for comfort. The decor was downright spartan; the cot, a small table, an old dresser, and a basin for water were the only furnishings in the large sandstone room, but Jasper was too tired to care about luxuries right then.

It had been a long day. In addition to the regular duels fought in the sandy courtyard, the cult members were also expected to attend mandatory morning and evening exercises. Jasper rubbed his aching shoulders ruefully, cringing at the thought of them. The exercises had been truly brutal. He may have been a mage, but after months of adventuring, he was reasonably fit, but it had been all he could do to keep moving - and he hadn't been the only one. Even some of the regulars had struggled to keep up, leading him to suspect that the instructor might have been going harder on them than usual. Because they hate me. He sighed, pushing the thought away with a spark of annoyance.

The real trouble, however, was that he had no idea what he was supposed to do next. Kas̆dael’s instructions to him had been rather vague. Finding the cult of Nahrēmah had been easy enough, but finding a secret cult within the cult was another matter altogether. How was he even supposed to begin to track them down?

A soft knock sounded on the door. It’s probably Ihra, he thought. Dragging himself away from the comfort of his cot, he padded over to the door quietly. Jasper opened it cautiously, peaking an eye out into the hall - after all the assassins in Kār-Kuppû had been connected to the cult of Nahrēmah somehow.

But it was only Laylah. He relaxed a little but still kept his guard up as she greeted him with an easy smile.

The gossamer silk gown she wore clashed with the spartan aesthetic of the temple and she leaned forward as she spoke, giving him a clear shot of her chest all the way down to her belly button. “Just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed for the night.” Her hand rested gently on his arm. “I know the rooms they provide are not very comfortable. If you need anything, just let me know.”

Jasper smiled awkwardly, the Keeper’s warning ringing in his mind. “I’m good. Thanks, though.” But he also didn’t really want to alienate one of the few friendly members of the cult, so he decided to throw her a bone. “But thanks for stopping by - it’s nice to see a friendly face around here. I’m afraid I may have stepped on a few toes today.”

The Djinn's face lit up. “Don’t worry about it. They’ll get over it in a few days.” She leaned a little closer, smiling coyly. “Besides, you don’t need to worry about what these fools think. If you impress, maybe the real brotherhood will take notice.” She stepped back, letting go of his arm. “I’ll let you sleep. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Jasper watched in silence as she sashayed down the hall to her room, aroused despite his better judgment. God, it’s been too long, he thought as he pounded his head against the wall. But the import of her words had not escaped him. Could she be part of the Brotherhood of Yas̆gah? He barred the door tightly, making sure the lock was well secured, before crawling back into the small cot where he fell into a fitful rest.