A year went by. Relar trained John to recognize each of the elements and their weaves. It was a peaceful time. When John wasn’t training he was flying above the city with Relar in the speeder, or watching holodramas in his room. He’d sometimes journey out to discover new parts of the city on foot.

He also liked watching the breeders take their gryphons and drakons for walks and flights. He marveled at the beautiful creatures as they ran and soared. The gryphons would leap into the skies, their hind legs like springs. The drakons had to have a decent run up before they could take flight. He had asked the breeders if he could ride one of them but they had refused. They cared too much for their charges to allow them to be mishandled by strangers. John was indignant. He would never harm these beauties. He was a very careful person.

One morning, Sor called John and Relar to the hall. “Relar,” she said, “it is time for Jehun to experience the Tower of Trials.” What was happening now? It sounded like hard work, whatever it was.

“Do you think he’s ready?” asked Relar.

“Yes. Jehun, you will stay there for a month. Pack lightly. Take enough nutrition kits to last you.”

John made a face. The nutrition kits tasted horrible, but a few sips was equivalent to a heavy meal. “What’s the Tower of Trials?”

“It is a space which tests your knowledge of elemental weaves. You will be attacked by different elements. You must undo the weaves before they hit you.”

“So it’s like weaving in reverse?” asked John. That sounded easy.

“Destruction is easier than creation, but it will help familiarize you with the elements. It will teach you patience and perseverance, things you sorely lack.” What did she mean ‘things you sorely lack?’ He could persevere with the best of them. He would have died a long time ago if he really lacked this quality. As for patience, John laughed inwardly. He had used up his quote of patience. He wanted to find Earth quickly, before he died of old age. He wasn’t an immortal elf, and he didn’t want to go back to an Earth so far ahead in time since he'd left that it was unrecognizable. He wanted to get there before 2040AD at least. Sor Al was too demanding a teacher.

John took his rations and they set forth to the tower. After two hours of flight he could finally see a tower rise from an island. John was expecting a grand looking tower seeing as it had such a grand name. He was disappointed. The tower was broad but small, rising only around sixty feet. It was made of black bricks and had many oval window holes. Through the windows he could see nothing but darkness. Relar circled around the tower for a while so that John could get a better view.

“I’ll come back in a month,” Relar said, landing the speeder in front of the tower. “Good luck.”

John jumped off, with his satchel of rations and inspected the tower’s exterior carefully before he went inside the entrance portal. The portal was like a door of blue light, rotating one turn every ten seconds. It was dark inside. John had not brought any lights, but he could see well enough.

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

“Welcome to the Tower of Trials,” a male voice said from right behind his ear. John jumped around, ready to phase, but saw nothing.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Where are you?”

“I am the tower,” the voice replied. “I am all around you.”

“Artifact spirit? Were you made by the Astari?”

The Bright Ones, like every other race in the galaxy, did not use advanced AI. His holocube, left behind on the lonely planet, was considered to have basic intelligence. The Bright Ones used spirits they captured from a different dimension to carry out their more advanced tasks. The spirits were wiped clean of their memory, brainwashed and then placed into the object that required an intelligent operator. John felt that this was cruel. It was worse than slavery.

“Indeed, I was made by the Astari” said the artifact spirit. “A long time ago. I have lost track of the passage of time in this place. Have you come to challenge the trials?”

“Yes.”

“Good. There hasn’t been a challenger here for a long time. Are you ready to begin?”

“Ready.” John didn’t mind spending a few more minutes chatting, but the Tower seemed to be in a hurry.

“Then let the trials begin.”

Three huge salamanders appeared at the other side of the tower. Their long bodies were red, shimmering with small flames, and their eyes were pitch black. John activated his perceiver circuit and could see them weaving a basic fireball. He quickly weaved an ice bolt and sent it flying at the salamanders. The ice bolt passed through the salamanders as though they weren’t there. Maybe only the weaves were real and the creatures were an illusion. Three fireballs came blazing at John. He dodged and phased, making it out unscathed. They began to weave a second round of fireballs. This time their aura threads were thicker than before.

John began unraveling their weaves. He was familiar with fire, so it was an easy task. When he had completely destroyed the weaves a rain of sparkles floated down on the salamanders and they screamed in pain. A third round of weaving began, and John succeeded again. Each time the patterns were thicker and more complex. After ten rounds the salamanders disappeared into shiny sparkles that rose into the top of the tower.

After the salamanders, a fire elemental appeared before John. Its weaves were much more sophisticated than the salamanders. John had trouble in the ninth round, failing to stop the weaving in time. A rain of fire fell on him. John phased and dodged, with only a few burns on his back to show for it. John finished the tenth round successfully and a giant goat headed humanoid appeared before John. Its teeth were shaped in a perpetual grin that really pissed John off. From the weaves, he could tell this wasn’t going to be easy. The aura threads were too thick to cut. He’d have to unravel each thread slowly and carefully. One wrong move and the whole room would be ablaze.

John succeeded the first six times. At the seventh round he was a little too slow and a disc of fire went spinning towards him. He phased and made it out of harm’s way. Phasing into the aether was like a cheat code in a video game. Even one second of phase time was enough to get him out of most trouble. He failed the eight round, but grew more familiar with the goatman’s weaves. He triumphed in the ninth and tenth round.

He stood tall and proud as the next illusion appeared. This time it was a white weasel. The elements had changed. John could feel the coldness in the room as the weaves began. John was most confident in fire and lightning. The other elements...not so much. He passed through the first five rounds. John failed breaking the weave in the sixth round. The walrus sent a spray of ice towards him. He phased and escaped. He wasn’t so lucky in the last three rounds. The spray of ice lasted a whole three seconds in the tenth round. He almost got killed. John shivered as he tried to run his aura circuits to stay warm.

A bright light shone on him from the center of the tower. John felt warm once again. All his wounds began healing. Astari technology was too advanced for the likes of John to understand. “You have failed the first wave of ice,” the artifact spirit said. “Rest for half an hour and then begin again.”

“Can I quit?” asked John.

“Yes, whenever you like.”

“How many people have quit before me? What’s the percentage?”

“About fifty percent.”

John closed his fists tight with determination. He wasn’t going to quit. He wasn’t going to add to that percentage. He would stay here for the entire month.