[Skell]
Boots crossed on the table. Arms folded. Back reclined.
If I'm gonna sit here and be a big red target, then Abyss, I'll at least be a comfortable big red target…
And I was comfortable. Outwardly. Wedged in the corner of the commons, I put on a show of nonchalantly resting in my chair, gliding fingers along the dark surface of my staff.
Things stayed that way over the next few hours. Applicants emptied their silver plates and glasses and turned to other ways to fill their time.
Some crowded to the larger tables near the center. The Ratfolk man - loudly introducing himself as Ra'Kol - thrust himself into the biggest group and made clear his mythical talent of shifting every conversation to being about him.
Other groups socialized nearby. A collection of wealthy types, most fawning over a "dashing" white-haired nobleman. Another of more rural-seeming people, arm-wrestling with a boisterous one-armed woman who reigned as the current champion.
Then there was Hyland. The ex-Templar hunched calmly over a net of fingers as others leaned in close, tripping over each other to ingratiate themselves with him.
Do they know his Templar past? With all he's seen, proving it wouldn't be hard, and if he did, that'd explain them flocking to Hyland like flies to a carcass. He did pass the Ordeals once before. Follow him, and they might think their victory's just as assured.
I kept a furtive gaze on the group. 'Til Hyland seemed to say something just as slyly behind his hands.
And the entire group's attention pinned on me.
Shade, did he… no. No. I've been over this. He won't go out and claim I'm undead. Even those bootlickers would figure he's a nutjob. But whatever he said, if it's about me… it can't be good.
My gaze quickly darted elsewhere. Further from the crowds were smaller groups - like Soleil's, which wrestled with their wits… by playing a game of Brigade.
What? Where'd they find a deck of cards?
Past that was the woman with dark hair and a darker journal, sitting solitary at a faraway table. She'd look up from her scribbling every so often. And glance at the man who saved her in the preliminaries: Niles.
The swordsman was alone in the opposite corner, bouncing the boots he propped onto a second chair. He'd spent the bulk of his time picking over a plate of food. It was unlike him. Niles was the guy who'd delve into a crowd. Crack jokes. Smile.
Then again, how well do I really know him?
That thought kept me occupied for longer than it should've. I'm not sure if it was good luck or bad, that she interrupted it.
"You," addressed a wispy, proper voice - like that of a talking flute. "You're the dark mage, correct?"
"…What do you think?" I growled.
I looked up to a face as grave as mine, powdered pale and cut across by a narrow slash of mauve lips "I think you are in need of advice."
"Advice?" I genuinely laughed. "And what's that?"
"Forfeit. While you are still able."
My gaze dropped to the sharp point of the thrusting weapon at her side. "Your 'advice' comes off more like a threat."
"View it however you like," she threw up an uncaring hand, bouncing the pink hair that twirled down to the shoulders of her lavender doublet. "I myself have more important matters to attend to than provoking a duel. But a dark mage has no place within the Order. Most agree. And seek to see this blunder… adjusted."
Staring tables peered from behind her like packs of hungry wolves. She wasn't lying.
"Yeah? Then let them try. I won't be going anywhere."
Her pink eyes hardened. Before she sighed and turned away with a shake of the head. "…Why did I even waste my time with this malarkey?"
I watched her start for the others. "…Wait," I sat up. "Why tell me this?"
She half-turned. "Not everyone favors chaos, dark mage."
"You wanna keep the peace?" I looked past her. "They don't know that. They can't hear us. If they this as you getting chummy with me, then what?"
"You're not scared of anyone here." The woman set herself ahead. "Neither am I."
She left for a chair near the center of the commons and seated herself with a practiced etiquette - even as snide looks and whispered gossip surrounded her. Among them, I made out what sounded like a name:
Penelle.
But my mind quickly left her, and shifted to what she said. Shade. I can act invincible, but the fact of the matter is, I'm outnumbered. Bad. And without the Templars here, nobody's gonna stop them.
Ahead, Hyland stared daggers at me. Under his fingers I caught the glint of a smile.
I wrapped a hand around the glass of water at my table, wanting to trigger my Shroud and shatter it into desperate pieces.
Don't kid yourself. As much as you've improved, Hyland's fully recovered since Belza Hill - and he's got light magic. He alone could be a death sentence, and he won't be alone. Say he tries something now. Everyone's here. Applicants will flock to his side to help against the big bad dark mage. That can't happen.
I stood up. You gotta make the first move.
Attention rose from cards and conversation as I crossed the commons. Nervous fingers were buried in my pockets; eyes ran straight ahead and my face - on the surface - rested unconcerned.
But the commons hushed. Loathing and fear came from every angle, just like in the preliminaries. Though this time no one made a move.
Except him.
"Going to bed?" questioned Hyland.
The other's stares? Hard to ignore. His? Impossible. Memories of Belza Hill fastened my legs in place. Of Bo'Rah. Of Oliver. Of me. Raw hatred emanated from his glare. Matching my own.
Hyland rose at his long table, the only other to stand besides me. "Or did you come to eat?"
Fists tightened in my pocket. But I chose to say nothing.
"You should've said so," Hyland's severe expression betrayed his cordial tone. "There's more than enough to go around."
He pushed a full plate from his side - crowded with huddled applicants - to the opposite end, where I stood alone.
Momentum let go of the plate there. Near the edge. Just over my boots.
"No? Not enough? Here, then," he snatched up a half-eaten plate. "Have mine!"
The plate splintered against my chest, covering it in stew and meat pie and sopped bread. My armor absorbed most of the pain. And most of the liquid.
It was right there: my Shroud. Just a thought and I'd have the power to leap over the table and maul him. I could see it in my mind. Beating my staff into him, and his little posse, and everyone who looked at me sideways. The idea felt good. Right, even.
But then, that's what Hyland wanted. For me to snap, and for those nearby to have reason to mob me. One incantation in the chaos is all it'd take. I'd be dead. My glamour would vanish. And…
He'd win.
I stifled the blaze inside me and grabbed a nearby towelette. With it I wiped up what little I could off my leather armor, then tossed it aside. My eyes returned to my goal, and I walked a wide berth around the ex-Templar.
Seeing I wasn't taking his bait, Hyland reached a vexed hand around a glass of water - his only remaining snare. He raised it, and-
A crack. Hyland winced. He looked aside to find ice-cold water streaming down his wrist.
His grip was tight. Too tight. He'd cracked the glass and its contents pooled onto the floor. The whispers finally turned silent.
Our eyes met again for a split-second. I tore mine away, and moved on to the dormitory door. Nothing stopped me the rest of the way. I pushed through.
Then shut the door.
I laid against the other side, closing my eyes with a deep sigh.
If he'd thrown that glass too, I - I might've lost it, and… I shook my head. Quit entertaining what-ifs. There's no time.
My eyes opened. A long hall of blues and whites stretched ahead - two rooms on each side. I collected myself and investigated further.
Along the walls were intermittent, small cages of protective glass. Inside them were what I first thought were applications of the Glow art Amara used. These, though, were smaller - yet brighter, more like prisms of glass than wisps of gold. They lit the commons room too. I was glad to find them elsewhere.
Against the right side were a pair of dorm rooms. One was labeled "A-I". The other, "J-R". On the left, further away, was "S-Z".
And closer to my left, a bathroom. I'd overheard the more exploratory applicants mention them. Not that toilets were a surprise to find here, but as a bladder-less, bowel-less man, their purpose sometimes slipped my mind.
Not then. The second I realized there was one, I got to thinking.
If I sit around in the commons, sooner or later, I'll be made a victim of. There's just too many of them, and Hyland isn't gonna let a day pass without settling the score.
I looked ahead. But the dorm rooms are dead ends that'll be packed by nighttime. Bunk in there and I won't make it to sunrise.
I ducked inside the bathroom - the only option left. Inside were a few shining prisms along the ceiling, again covered in glass. Left side presented a wide mirror and basins for hand-washing. Right side had a trash bin - then several open stalls leading to toilets made of a luxurious porcelain.
This, though? It's far from perfect, no less a dead end than the dorm rooms. Yet it's my only shot of surviving the night.
I wrapped fingers around my staff. But I'll have to work quickly.
—————————————————————————————————————
…They were coming. Boots that had no intention of treading lightly.
I'd heard them earlier, passing minutes before to check rooms further past and opposite the bathroom. They didn't find what they were looking for. But they narrowed things down to one possible place.
And their footfalls stopped just before the door.
"Remember what I said," ordered an arrogant, measured, all-too-familiar voice from behind the wall.
Silence followed. What could only be agreement.
Anxious seconds passed. Then, Hyland stepped inside and shut the door.
"Th-the lights?" he muttered quickly. "What happened to them?"
I wouldn't answer. Especially not with information he'd quickly gather himself.
"That new toy of yours…" he took tentative steps further into the dark bathroom. "Must've used it to reach the lights above and shatter them. I suppose such wanton desecration is to be expected of you."
Fingers moved to his sabre, a metallic screech marking its unsheathing. "But that leaves your aim. Intend to scare me?" he scoffed. "Cowering in here - you're the one whose frightened. Of course you'd be. Last we met, you ran, and relied on the aid of foolish Gervais - and that addled bumpkin of a boy. I wonder where he is? And if he'll weep for you once I'm through?"
Another attempt to strike at my nerves. It was working. I wanted desperately to jump out and attack. But that'd be a terrible idea.
His steps reached the stalls. "Having to reenter the Order… your limited mind couldn't possibly imagine the disgrace."
Hyland threw open a stall. Empty. He continued. "But dragging you into the light? Here? My acclaim will be tenfold."
Another stall. And another. He'd opened the first half - stomping unrelentingly to the next.
"It's as if fate itself prepared me a reward even grander than I expected. All I had to do was endure. And blast it all, I've endured."
Boots kicked open the fourth. I wasn't there. Even so, I knew his blade would be waiting for me. I fidgeted nervously.
"My rounds and lodgings and armor and my title, stripped away. The glares of militia officers and plebians who should be bowing to me. All because of your flimsy facade."
Hyland pushed open the fifth. He knew I wouldn't be inside. Much as I hated to admit it, the ex-Templar was beginning to understand me. How I'd delay things 'til the final moment. How I'd fight to the very end.
"But your time's run out," he sighed. "I don't know how you eked your way past the preliminaries - I don't care. You're here now… and I'll tear that false skin off your very bones!"
He charged at the door.
And it… didn't budge.
"Wh-what!? How did…"
When he saw it, his surprise was audible.
"The door!" he stepped back. "What have you done with it?"
Bottom of the door… well, there was no bottom of the door. The crack between it and the ground below was gone. Both of them were as one, fused together with precise use of Hand of Decay.
If I'd decayed them for too long? They'd have deteriorated into dust and the gap would've widened. Not long enough? The part attaching the door to the floor would've been brittle - easily broken through. But I'd found the perfect balance, thanks to Amara's practice. A thick door, fused to the ground itself? I liked to see Hyland try.
And he sure did.
Boots dented the door further with each heavy kick. "Abyss!" he panted. "You think this'll bar me?" The door started to cave through. That wasn't fast enough for him.
"This is merely a stopgap! But I refuse to waste time breaking it apart. You want this dragged out until the very last? I won't allow you the kindness."
Light began to consume most of the room. An old fear panged inside me.
Hyland swung his sabre high. "This charade is over! Radiant Arc!"
It happened in a flash. A wave of light cleaved the door in half and flew through unheeded.
There was nowhere safe to stand inside.
The bathroom returned to darkness. For a moment, Hyland just stood there absently.
A smile crept across his face. An exhale followed… one that grew into raucous triumphant laughter. "Ha! Finally! It's done!"
He pressed hands against the two halves of the door, grinning like a fool. "Hyland Peredur: the man who detected and eradicated an undead - masquerading as a Templar applicant - in the very heart of the Citadel. A tale to be remembered forevermore, alongside my next."
Hyland pushed the halves apart. "But before that, let's see what of this monster can still be salvage-"
Paralysis overtook the ex-Templar. And why wouldn't it?
Behind the ravaged door was an empty stall. I wasn't there.
I never was.
Matter of fact… I was right behind him.
I leapt out of the shadows like a serpent from the waves and fired a mid-air kick that channeled every ounce of rage I had for the ex-Templar. He couldn't even catch me in the corner of his eye before I launched him through the gap he'd made, crashing into the bisected toilet.
I landed onto sure feet, looking down upon the ex-Templar, doused in water and covered in broken porcelain. "Decent enough tale. But this is much more memorable."
Whew. Can finally talk again.
Believe me, I wanted nothing more than to press the attack, or just to savor the dying dreams in his eyes. But he'd shake off the shock soon enough. I wouldn't stick around for when he did.
I turned my way to the door. Though as I passed the stalls, I couldn't help wonder what Hyland was thinking. Not because I cared one bit about the prick and his rabid ego - but because he'd never know I'd been playing him from the start.
Hyland wouldn't realize I broke the lights for two reasons. One: to cast Shadow Form, and two: to draw his attention to the ceiling, and not the slightly darker imprint lying in the corner.
Neither would I tell him I decayed the stall door not to protect myself from him, but to make him believe with complete certainty I hid behind it, ensuring a sneak attack when he least expected it. Best of all, he knew basically nothing of Shadow Form. The applicants saw it for just a moment in the preliminaries. They didn't know how it worked.
So when Hyland took his first steps into the room, he'd already clamped down on my bait. All I needed to do was move in behind him and trail his own shadow every step of the way. Only problem was…
That was the easy part.
I raced to the door, brainstorming how best to deal with those behind it with the little time I had before Hyland came to his senses. What I thought up… wasn't my best work.
My hand wrapped around the doorknob, and I opened it just enough to leave the slightest crack.
"…Oy, Hyland? That you?" A familiar voice leaned in. "You got 'im by the scruff yet-"
A kicked door to the face cut off anything else.
The door snapped back before I barreled through into the light, rushing through what must've been a dozen startled faces too blurry too discern. Before anyone could realize what'd happened, I was already halfway down the hall.
"Abyss!" Ra'Kol covered his snout with pink fingers "You little-"
"Don't stand there!" Hyland's voice echoed from the bathroom. "Move!"
Sweat flung from my face as I stopped at the dorm door. It was the only place to go. I burst through.
Inside was a room I barely got to glance at. My body darted past the blurred shapes of beds and stopped at the far wall. I spun around, slipping my staff from its cord just in time for the door to slam open again.
First to enter was a furious Ra'Kol, nose bloodied and teeth grinding. Others spilled in after him, some applicants from Hyland's group, Ra'Kol's, even a few among the nobles and common people. All in all, nearly twenty applicants had taken it upon themselves to see me ousted.
Even her.
"Penelle?" My gaze turned venomous. "I thought you wanted to prevent this."
"I did." She folded her arms. "You chose for it to happen. Blame yourself."
"All o' youse," demanded Ra'Kol, catching a fist, "hold him down. I got some payback to give."
Penelle turned to him. "We agreed to coerce him to forfeit. Not come to blows."
"That was before the sod did this!" he jabbed a finger at his face.
Wait… there's a chance this doesn't have to escalate? Maybe if I say the right things-
"Ra'Kol is right," Hyland appeared, wiping his mouth as he waded through the bodies crowding the door. "I did my best to convince him to come quietly. He wouldn't listen. We'll have to carry him to the escalift - after ensuring he won't fight back."
What!?
"You all don't really believe that, do you!?" I looked to the others. "Hyland attacked me - everyone saw what happened in the commons!"
Distrustful eyes stared back. They weren't entertaining a word I'd said.
"Idiots, all of you! Just listen! I don't know what you've heard or what you think, but-"
"Quiet, dark mage!" interrupted an applicant. "We don't care to hear your deceit!"
"Whatever occurred in there is irrelevant," another added. "At the end of the day, you do not belong here!"
Abyss…
"I like Hyland's idea." Ra'Kol reached for the heavy spear on his back, taking left. "Rough him up - then throw his bleedin' body on the escalift. You're lucky, dark mage. Your type deserves to be strung up and burrowed through with claws - but we got mercy."
I leapt onto the bed behind me, staff extended. "You attack me - force me out, that'll be against the fairness of the Ordeals. What'll the Templars have to say to that?"
"Nothing," Hyland unsheathed his sabre, heading straight for me. "They can't directly state their disdain for you. But behind closed doors, they'll celebrate your failure." He smiled. "Perhaps even look kindly upon those that caused it."
Penelle reached solemnly for her thrusting blade, taking right. "If there must be brutality… I will at least end it swiftly."
The applicants, led by the those three, slowly approached and pushed aside beds, swarming about the room and denying me any avenue of escape. Other weapons were pulled out. Pikes. Battle axes. Throwing knives. Among the field of sharp edges, my eyes met Hyland's.
There was no doubt, he'd kill me regardless of the other's intent. Then my undead body would be on display for all to see.
Fingers tightened. Sweat drenched my face.
Truthfully, my whole "plan" was really the death throes of a cornered animal. My best bet was hiding in the bathroom 'til morning, but the ex-Templar wouldn't allow that. I gave him the run-around, sure… but ultimately it'd always come to this: Me, against so many. I never stood a chance.
That didn't mean I wouldn't go down swinging.
"Fine!" Desperation raked my voice raw. "Come at me then! Corner the dark mage!"
At that, a few of them hesitated.
"But I won't go down without maiming the pack of you! Hand of Decay!"
Necrotic energy sparked in my hand - lighting my side of the room a sickly green.
"Arm? Leg?" I asked - no, interrogated. "Who's first? Abyss, who's got the most to lose!?"
"Mmrph…" groaned someone to my left.
Gazes swung to our sides. The room, it turned out, hadn't been empty when I walked in. In the corner lurked a small mound under the sheets, stock still and deathly silent. 'Til it started stirring.
A lithe hand reached out and slid over the edge of the bed. Tucked in the crevice between it and the wall, they pulled it out:
A scabbard covered in the flight of ravens.
Immediately the applicants crept back, fear in their eyes. All except Hyland, Ra'Kol, and Penelle.
"…Take. Your quarrel. Elsewhere."
Hyland's eyes darkened. A bead of sweat gathered at Penelle's brow. And Ra'Kol-
"Hey - that's the pintsized brat from this morning!" the Ratfolk announced the obvious with a chuckle. "What? Think because you ran up some rocks you can tell us what to do!?"
"Ra'Kol…" Hyland cautioned. "Don't involve others. We can-"
"You ain't bossin' me around either!" he spun to Hyland. "I'm here to do the world a favor - not you!"
A wall of bedsheets suddenly flew into the air and blocked the corner. Another moment and it was in tatters, falling around the revealed swordsman.
His weapon clicked into place before we ever glimpsed its blade. "I shan't say this twice. Bark like mongrels, and be butchered like mongrels."
"Settle down - the two of you!" Hyland demanded. "The dark mage is our target; we've no interest in-"
The ex-Templar ducked like lightning - the ends of his black hair cut loose in Yamui's wake. Hylands' eyes stretched wide at the floor as his attacker stood directly behind him, sheathing his blade.
Only after it locked inside the scabbard did I see red. Gashes leapt across the cheeks of Ra'Kol and Penelle - who hadn't even realized Yamui was behind them 'til pain and panic sent their eyes around the room.
I barely noticed him move either. But I did catch his whisper.
Flash Iai.
"That attack was delivered from a half-woken hand," warned Yamui. "Trod off before I have my senses about me."
His words were only meant for the closest three. By then, every other applicant had hightailed it.
Penelle pressed fingers to a cheek, and they came back bloody. A scream perched at her lips. She sealed them just before it took flight. Instead she turned, and took cold, trembling steps toward the door.
Ra'Kol tried to appear unphased after staring decapitation in the face. But his breathing quickened and his chest rose and fell and his gaze shot to the door and… he blazed through it. Abandoning Hyland.
The ex-Templar rose slowly, back-to-back with Yamui. "Y-you… what you're interrupting, it's so much bigger than-"
Yamui crept fingers to his blade. His final reply.
Two forces raged inside Hyland's eyes, then. Sense versus pride.
And unfortunately, sense won.
"…Very well." The ex-Templar rose and passed Yamui. "Take your blasted nap."
He stopped at the door. Then half-turned - revealing the most venomous eye I'd ever seen. "And you? A time will arrive when you'll have no one to hide behind. No shadow to cower inside. That's the day I win. I vow it."
Hyland slithered out of the dorm room like the snake he was. Not long after, roars echoed from the commons, of "blasted cowards" and endless strings of curses.
I wished I was in a good enough mood to listen to the sweet melody, but to be entirely honest, I was too busy taming my shivers. I'd almost been killed, and worse, this didn't mean I was safe. Not by a long shot.
Still, I had enough of a mind to remember my rescuer.
"Y-Yamui, right?" I deactivated my art - watching him walk to his bed and yanking a nearby sheet on the way to replace his own. "Thanks for helping-"
"You and them are no different," he said. "They were simply the loudest. Silence, or my blade turns next to you."
I'm not ashamed to say I gave him a solid nod as he dug himself back into bed. I sighed glumly, before realizing I may have had more of a chance than I first thought.
Nobody wants to get on Yamui's bad side, huh? I can exploit that. If people know he's in this dorm room, maybe they'll avoid me. At least here.
Quietly, I scooted a few beds closer to Yamui.
The guy's a little prick, but if he's my only shot of making it through the night… I gotta do what I gotta do.
I slipped into bed, leaving my staff slanted against the pillow. Just in case.
Urgh… I miss Oliver and Amara.
—————————————————————————————————
Nighttime had come. Or at least my closest approximation of it. Every light in the Ordeal's facility went dim, and all the applicants assigned to my dorm room had long since entered.
A few were part of the same group that followed Hyland. They stared daggers at me as they walked in; I just pretended to be asleep. Even if Yamui was close by, he wasn't a ticket to invincibility. He was fickle, and I didn't feel like testing my luck. Eventually, quiet conversations turned to snoring. Everyone seemed to be catching z's.
Except me.
…Don't drop your guard. It might seem safe now, but there's over a hundred people in this building, and all of them either hate you or won't sabotage their chances by coming to your rescue. Though… I looked to my side, seeing a hedge of vacant beds between the rest of the applicants, and Yamui and I, at least I've got some breathing room.
I sighed. Tomorrow's gonna be tough. And the day after that, assuming I survive. And the one after that…
My head shook. But it's okay. These Ordeals, they're named this way for a reason. I can't expect the life I want to come easy. Even if I have to stand against applicants, ex-Templars, and Commandants, I'll do this.
And it all starts tomorrow. With the First Ordeal!