Trials [2]

The relief was like a drug, sweet and short-lived. It lasted exactly as long as it took for Riku to stumble back to the group of passing aspirants. The sneers though were gone. He surprised and that made him unpredictable. He could notice the handful of calculating eyes on him.

His heart was still trying to hammer its way out of his ribs. He replayed the last seconds in his head. The Hound’s leap, its stretched out claws, the certainty of failure. That fear had been a cold fire in his gut, and he’d channeled it without thinking. He hadn’t just made a simple toy as he expected, but he had coded a decoy on the last second. The energy expenditure had been massive. He felt hollowed out, like a battery run dry.

That’s the trigger, he realized. It was fear. Not just fear. The fear of failure. The fear of death. That’s the high-octane fuel. It was a terrifying thought. To get stronger, he had to constantly dance on the edge of disaster? He thought.

Master Kaelen’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Well done to those who passed the first trial. You have demonstrated control and presence of mind. However, survival is only the first lesson. A Spirit Hunter must also possess the power to subdue.”

He gestured, and a different section of the arena wall slid open. This time, the darkness within pulsed with a different, more intense energy that made the air taste weird. A low growl, deeper and more terrifying than the Vex-Hound’s chitter went across the room.

“For the second trial, you will face a Wraith-Scourge. An Upper Tier 4 spirit.”

A collective gasp went through the aspirants. The difference between a Tier 4 Lesser and a Tier 4 Upper was like the difference between a knife and a broadsword. The Vex-Hound had been a test of skill. This was a test of raw power.

The spirit that flowed out of the darkness was a nightmare of smoke and sharp edges. It was taller than a man, its form constantly shifting, but solidified into vicious, blade-like limbs. Two points of cold blue fire burned where its eyes should be. It radiated a chillingly cold and focused menace.

Goran, the boy who used the granite-skinned skill, was called first. He roared and charged, just as he had before. The Spirit didn’t pounce. It just extended a limb. It hit Goran’s stony chest not with brute force, but with some piercing, corrosive energy. There was a sickening crack. Goran’s fortification shattered like glass. He was thrown back ten feet, skidding across the dirt, his skin reverting to normal, a deep, smoking gash across his chest. He didn’t get up. Medics rushed in.

The message was clear: Your previous tricks will not work here.

Elara, the fire-whip user, fared slightly better. She managed to land a searing lash on the Scourge’s form, but the spirit seemed to absorb the heat, its smoky body glowing hotter for a moment before it retaliated. A wave of freezing shadow erupted from it, extinguishing her flames and sending her stumbling back, shivering violently. She barely managed a defensive posture before Kaelen called, “Enough! Fail.”

One by one, the aspirants were broken. Finn’s shadows were torn apart by the Scourge’s disruptive aura, but he maneuvered his way in. Lin’s iron-hard vines were frozen and shattered, but her determination kept her firmly fixated on winning. The few other Lower Tier 3s and most of the Tier 4s were dispatched with ease. This was a demonstration of the Ascendancy’s power and the harsh hierarchy of this world.

Riku watched, his mouth dry. These were some of the people who had seemed so powerful moments ago. Now they looked like children swinging sticks at a professional soldier. The energy he’d felt after his victory was gone, replaced by a deep, chilling dread. This thing was in a league of its own.

“Riku.”

His name echoed in the suddenly quiet arena. The Wraith-Scourge had dissolved back into its containment area, leaving the field scarred and empty. It would be recalled for him.

He walked forward, his legs feeling like lead. The judges watched, their expressions unreadable. This was where the fluke would end. This was where the “toy maker” would be exposed.

The Scourge materialized in front of him. The cold from it washed over Riku, a physical weight dropped on his shoulder. The fear was immediate, paralyzing even. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t the same sharp fear of a single mistake. It was more of a deep, existential fear of being utterly, completely outclassed.

He tried to focus, trying to pull on that fear, to shape it. He threw up a wall of light. The Scourge didn’t even break stride. It passed through the illusion as if it weren’t there, its icy gaze locked on him.

Riku stepped back, panic taking the better of him. He created a decoy. The Scourge ignored it completely, its senses far beyond such a simple trick.

He was out of ideas. Out of energy.

The Wraith-Scourge raised a blade-like limb. Riku froze, utterly helpless.

“Enough,” Master Kaelen’s voice rang out, calm and strict.

The Scourge halted, its limb inches from Riku’s face.

“A valiant effort, given your… unique specialization,” Kaelen said, though his tone held no praise. It was a simple statement of fact. “But some gaps cannot be bridged by cleverness alone. You lack the necessary power density. Fail.”

The word was a physical blow. Riku stood there, trembling, as the Scourge was withdrawn. He had known he would lose, but the reality of it - the sheer, hopeless gap in power - was a different kind of crushing weight.

He had passed the first test by being clever. He had failed the second for being weak.

As he walked back to the group of failures, he caught General Torvin’s eye. The General gave him a look that was almost pitying. “Tricks are for children,” the man grunted. “Power is for warriors.”

Riku said nothing. 'I failed. Fine. What's with all this extra shit? Let me be.' He thought. He had gotten a taste of success, only to have it ripped away. The Ascendancy’s gates had opened a crack, and now they had slammed shut in his face.