Often times, our own perception seeks to fool us. One might see an animal and give it emotions, when instead that animal wishes only to survive. We have grown comfortable with our friends, and thus they live alongside us. They share our hunts, they share our victories. They protect us as we protect them. We rely on them as they rely on us.

Yet still their fangs can rend us apart. We are but one mistake away from falling by their hands.

“A trial? Wait.” Enix lost focus and felt his exhaustion catch up to him. “This was a test?”

Yes. I wished to see how driven you were and what I could bring out of you if you weren't. Ghiri tilted his head to avoid Vice, whom Enix had thrown.

“And you couldn’t have just said it?!”

I needed you to believe it was real, so I made it so.

Enix shook his head. “You would have killed me and Ingot so I would believe it was real?”

Killed you? No. The Foundry does not kill its visitors; it only tests them. Changes them. Come.

Ghiri led Enix away from the main room back outside. He stood at the entrance of a hexagonal building, noting the change once again. The hexagonal structure of the ruins and the box-like buildings shifted before Enix’s eyes. What were squared buildings were now intricately designed. They followed a hexagonal shape altogether but now followed more details. Now Enix could see an order to the ruins, with the main building having hallways and different floors.

The boy looked down at the area full of statues, was deathly quiet, and Enix kept waiting for them to move again.

Ghiri stopped walking and turned back to him. They will not move. He communicated to Enix’s mind as he continued to walk. Enix followed him after waiting for a few moments.

“So, what comes next? That disaster you keep telling me about?”

No, that is not for some time. You will face our other trials. If you pass them all, you will be sent into the world stronger than when you came.

“What if I fail?”

Then you weren’t who we thought you were. Enix walked a few paces behind Ghiri as he strolled. When they came across a statue, Ghiri would stop and stand before it, almost in reverence. After a while, Enix did the same, admiring the level of detail on the statues. This occurred for a few sun phases until Ghiri led Enix back into the Foundry proper. Doors opened and closed at Ghiri’s whim as he walked through, and they ended in the same room with the tree Enix had first encountered Ghiri in.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

The next trial starts now. Ghiri waved a hand towards Enix as his vision went black. He felt the sensation of falling despite his feet remaining planted, and the wind whistling through the trees was replaced with the dripping of water on rock. Instead of feeling moist grass and dry air, he was now on cold, wet stone.

Make your way out.

“Out of what?” Enix called out, but there was no reply. The darkness remained, making his vision useless.

“Ghiri? Vice?” He felt around, only to find a wall to his right, which he leaned against.

“Ingot?”

Enix heard nothing and felt only the cold, damp stone around him.

He was alone again. The last time he had been alone was before he had found Ingot. A familiar feeling crept over him, a need to move. The air was silent, save for the echoing of the droplets as they hit stone. Enix wished he could feel Ingot’s cool head bump into his shins or Vice wrapped around his wrist again.

Enix waved his arms and began walking, keeping a hand on the wall on his left. He felt the wall end abruptly and continued more to the left, following the turn. He kept his other senses open as he walked but felt something was off. He kept following his sense of touch.

He didn’t know how much time passed, all he could count was the amount of turns. He eventually lost count once he reached the hundreds. Still he continued, the sounds of the surface reaching his ears, but never his touch. After a hundred turns, still he felt the touch of damp stone.

Enix wasn’t quite accustomed to being in closed spaces outside of small dens he and Ingot had found empty or chased other creatures out of. Having arrived at the Foundry was Enix’s first time experiencing a fully enclosed space, and with it, there was a sensation of vastness in large rooms, where Enix’s voice seemed to bounce around and back to him. In smaller rooms, however, there was no such thing. He sensed that very thing now as he tapped the wall. It was a small room, yet as he continued walking, it seemed to never end. He felt one turn towards his right, then once more, then one to his left. So it went left, right, right, left, left, left, and right again.

As time passed and he continued to walk, he began to feel a pounding ring in his ears, matching a growing pounding from his chest. He stopped to breathe but found that he couldn’t catch his breath like he normally could, no matter how Enix tried. He sunk onto the floor, leaning against the wall as he began to breathe faster. The dampness felt increasingly uncomfortable to him as his breathing refused to settle, and the ringing stayed.

Enix sat there until he felt he could no longer stay still. As if the ringing was growing louder just from him sitting there. And yet, as he tried to get up, a tingling sensation began to radiate from his feet up. It felt as if Enix was under attack, but he felt no claws, no teeth, no damage.

He sat upright and attempted to meditate, but the tingling remained, and his breathing stayed uneven.

“Ingot?” he called out, his voice sounding foreign and weak. He knew he wouldn’t get a response. Instinctually, Enix pulled his legs closer to him, hugging them. He felt a sensation overwhelm him, like when he drank cold water. It had stung his throat and left a feeling of ice freezing his chest. Enix’s throat clamped down, so powerful only a squeak could escape.

For the first time, Enix was experiencing dread.

He was alone again.