It's starting.
Adyr watched the golden sand beneath his boots loosen with a dry hiss, then gather as if drawn by a tide. It spiraled around his ankles, pressed into itself grain by grain, and climbed.
He did not try to run; there was nowhere to run. This was the 4th trial, Break Out the Cage, and the tower would never allow its opening act to be avoided.
Across the arena, the same process was underway. Beneath every Practitioner, the sand lifted in slow rings that thickened and rose.
A few panicked and leaped away before their cages closed, but they instantly regretted it. The ground answered at once: fresh bands of gold surged up beneath them, wrapped their shins, and yanked them back into place. A brittle creaking followed, like stressed wood, except the sound came from bone. Faces tightened, and the struggling stopped at once.
Adyr stayed still and watched the construction continue.
