Coming up with a plan was easy enough - actually executing it was another beast altogether.

Ihra quickly realized that it wasn’t enough to bait the golem into the grass. The vines and the golem weren't working together to harm her - as the vines’ inadvertent rescue of her had shown - but neither were they exactly enemies. After unsuccessfully routing the golem through the grass twice - the vines doing nothing to impede its progress - Ihra was forced to conclude that the vines would only attack the golem if the golem had attacked them first.

Which meant she had to let herself get caught again.

Purposefully surrendering herself to an enemy in the heat of a battle went against every instinct in her body. It was all Ihra could do to not tear herself free as she felt the vines wrap around her limbs, the tendrils slithering up her body toward her neck and throat.

But her gamble paid off; the golem was not prepared to let the vines claim its prey. Another blast of wind slammed into her, the pressure of its force squeezing the very breath of her lungs. But this time she was ready, rolling into the pavement as she prepared her shot.

Executioner’s Arrow was the one decent skill she had, but the several seconds it took to charge up made it almost impossible to employ in single combat. She had no other choice, though - Ihra could only hope that the vines would delay the golem long enough for her to use it.

The golem turned to face her. Its golden armor gleamed brightly, as polished and unmarred as when the fight began, her arrows little more than toys against its bulk. But she only needed one shot.

With a bellow of rage, the golem charged toward her. Its path cut directly through the vines that had just been torn to shred; as before, they lashed out at the creature that had attacked them. The ground shook as the golem was brought to its knees, the crystal plate on its head once more exposed. But Executioner's Arrow wasn’t ready.

One second. Two seconds. The golem roared at the vine, its breath supercharged with essence. The raging tempest tore through the tendrils that bound it to the earth as the brunt of the blast struck deep at the core of the plant.

Three seconds. Four seconds. The monstrously heavy golem struggled to push itself to its feet. A few stubborn tendrils still clung to its legs and feet, fighting futilely against the golem's overwhelming strength.

Five seconds. With a defiant scream, Ihra let go of the bowstring. The arrow surged forward, closing the distance between them in a flash and, propelled by far more strength than she could muster on her own, it smashed into the crystal plate. Blue shards whizzed past her ear as the arrow burrowed deep within the golem’s head.

It clawed futilely at the arrow, but its giant hands were not nimble enough to yank the offending object out. The arrow's shaft snapped off, leaving the head remained buried deep within the crystal as the ability activated. In a blur of motion, the arrowhead expanded into a molten blade that ripped through the fragile connections that filled the golem’s head. It slumped back down on its knees as the light was finally extinguished from its eyes.

Ihra could barely believe it. The odds had been stacked against her - the golem all but immune to her arrows - but she had found a way. She stepped forward and almost plunged to the ground as her legs screamed in protest. Glancing down, she saw her knees were a bloody mess. Shards of stone had dug into the skin and little rivulets of blood caked her lower legs. Adrenaline had masked her pain during the fight, but now that the danger had passed, it came roaring back with a vengeance.

She fumbled through her pouch, looking for a healing potion. She was beginning to feel panicked when her fingers finally clasped around the rubber-sealed lid. Yanking it open, she let the sweet liquid slide down her throat, gasping in relief as her shredded knees begin to close up and little chips of stone rained down on the ruined pavement.

Ihra looked around the strange, ruined cathedral. No screen had popped up to congratulate her on passing the trial. Maybe I need to get something from the golem.

She approached it cautiously; she was pretty sure it was dead but there was no benefit to taking unnecessary chances. As soon as she stepped foot on the grass, the vines begin to snake around her feet. She leapt back, snapping through the weak tendrils with ease. So much for that. There must be something else I need to do. Her eyes fall on the platform the golem had originally stood on. Maybe there?

Bow in hand, she walked through the cathedral. A winding path of ruined paving stones charted a safe course through the treacherous grass, and Ihra made sure to keep well clear of the foliage. It would be pretty sad, after all, to kill the golem and then die to a plant.

She found herself admiring the view. The cathedral must have been abandoned long ago. Large segments of the wall had fallen, allowing the bright sunlight to spill into the central nave, while a cascade of colored lights spilled across the broken pavement and grass, the gift of the elaborate stained glass windows which still clung to their frames.

Yet, despite the state of the decay the building was in, Ihra somehow suspected that its current beauty would have put its former state to shame. Thousands of flowers covered the floor and the pillars, while small trees with white trunks and golden leaves dotted the once grand hall, a natural beauty that rivaled the best mankind could craft.

As she approached the front of the ancient temple, a shrine came into view. A splendid sarcophagus, its size far beyond that needed for Djinn, Elves, or Corsythians rose above the central hall. Made of pure copper, its sides sported a riot of colors. Every inch was filled with meticulously painted scenes of life, the colors still as fresh and vibrant as the day they had dried. The story of Kaksû’s life?

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

But it was what stood behind the coffin that truly arrested her gaze. The statue of a god loomed above the giant sepulcher, an all too familiar god. “Ayyālu,” she whispered.

The Stag Lord rose above her, his form frozen in a state of partial transformation. His lower haunches had the hooves of a deer, and coarse hair coated the sides of his legs and arms. A massive rack of antlers stretched over the chapel, the sweep of his horns wider than the length of the massive sepulcher, and his arms were spread in a gesture of benediction. She stumbled backward, eyes wide, as she felt the pressure emanating from the statue.

She was not alone. He was here.

Ihra fell on her knees, her head bowed before its relentless gaze. How long she lingered there she could not tell, but the pressure eventually subsided, the divine presence leaving without speaking a word to her.

She staggered to her feet, looking blearily around the fallen chapel. What the hell was that? What would Ayyālu want with me?

Her limbs responded stiffly to her commands, her legs groaning in protest as she approached the sepulcher and - she hoped - the reward for her trial. Her hands shook as she reached toward the coffin. This was it - this was her best shot at becoming something better than just another mediocre archer.

Ihra muttered a prayer to Selene, wishing for a good class, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, added an invocation to Ayyālu. Can’t hurt to cover my bases.

Her fingers brushed against the painted images on the copper sepulcher.

The world trembled as the sonorous sound of a bell chimed through the cathedral.

DING.

DING.

DING.

The ringing of the bells swelled to a furious crescendo, the vibrations ripping through her with an almost physical force, but Ihra stood her ground. A savage grin spread across her face as she read the message that appeared before her.

Lady Kaksû has judged you worthy.

Phase 1 of the trial is complete.

Her grin slipped as she reached the second sentence. Phase 1?

The bell continued to ring, the pressure of its vibrations so great that she found herself forced to her knees, struggling to stand against the presence.

DING

With a shudder, the ground beneath her collapsed. A single shriek echoed through the empty cathedral as Ihra was swallowed up into the darkness.

It wasn’t much of a drop. One second, Ihra was falling into the darkness, her screams for aid falling unheard as she plummeted into the heart of an abyss; the next, she had fallen on her knees in a forest.

She stood up cautiously, scanning her surroundings. A small hollow surrounded her. The rocky walls rose perhaps twenty feet above her, while the glen itself was filled with ferns and saplings. The hollow wasn’t very big, no more than fifty feet or so in length, but a small pond rested on the far side, its waters shaded from the dappled sunlight that filtered through the canopy of leaves.

Ihra froze as she realized she was not alone. A stag bent down beside the pond, its tongue lapping at the crystal-clear waters of the spring.

She crouched down behind a fallen log, reaching for her bow and arrows.

They weren’t there.

Her heart pounding frantically, she searched the ground around her. There was no sign of her weapons.

Despite her attempts to be stealthy, the stag heard her. Lifting its head up from the water, it met her gaze.

It was a beautiful beast. Its tawny fur was thicker and more luxuriant than that of any deer she had ever seen, even her beloved Keresh, and the unusual grey dappling that lined its belly and neck would have made it the prized pelt of any noble. Its antlers, too, were unique, their color closer to the shiny copper of Kaksû’s sarcophagus than the usual pale bone. But its eyes were what removed any doubt in Ihra’s mind that this was no ordinary beast.

Green eyes, sparking with a keen intelligence stared back at her. Human eyes.

The stag snorted, pawing at the ground with one hoof.

She froze, looking desperately around her for anything she could use as a weapon when the territorial buck charged her. But Ihra had misunderstood its intent.

With another stamp of its hooves, the stag leapt into the air, but not at her. It soared over the pond, landing easily on the top of the small cliff. It disappeared into the woods, swallowed up by the thick foliage, but returned a second later. With another snort, the beast met her gaze and Ihra understood what it wanted.

Erupting from her crouched position, Ihra raced across the small glen. She scaled the cliff quickly, her high dexterity allowing her to easily leap from one ledge to the next. Within seconds, she had reached the top, rolling to a stop beside the waiting beast.

The magnificent stag didn’t spare her glance, bolting into the woods as soon as she reached him. Dodging back and forth, it wove its way through the thick underbrush and tangled thickets that covered the forest floor. Ihra dashed after it, a thrill of excitement pulsing through her veins.

The beast ran. And ran. And ran.

At first, the terrain was flat - the stag and Ihra dashing unhindered across the shaded plains. But slowly the gentle swells grew into rolling hills, that in turn gave way to daunting cliffs and yawning chasms. The buck navigated through the treacherous terrain with ease, leaping higher and higher as it soared above the obstacles that barred its way.

Ihra, however, started to lag behind; her endurance was high, but not endless. Slowly, the distance between her and the stag grew, and when the beast soared to the top of a forty-foot cliff with two simple bounds, she felt her heart quail. How can I hope to keep up with this beast?

Suffocating a sigh, she leapt up, catching hold of a lower ledge. Pulling herself up, she jumped toward the next ledge. Her fingers closed on the edge of the rock, her tips trying to gain traction, but her hand slipped off. With a muffled yelp, Ihra fell to the base of the cliff, smashing her face into the loose dirt.

She glanced up blearily, spitting the gravel out of her mouth. The stag had paused at the top of the cliff, looking down at her and although she knew she was probably just imagining things, Ihra could swear she could feel the disappointment radiating off it.

She pushed herself up shakily, she turned to face the cliff, gnawing on her swelling lip. I will not give up. She stamped her foot against the turf, the resolve hardening within her. Once again, she scaled the cliff, pulling herself up the ledges with renewed vigor. I can’t get left behind, she chanted to herself over and over again, not quite sure if she was talking about the stag, Jasper, or her parents. But it gave her the strength she needed to push on.

As she pulled herself over the cliff, tumbling across the grass, the stag bounded off into the forest, and she chased after it, hot at its heels.