CH. 54 The Trial of Endurance, Part III
The desert sun bleeds into the horizon, turning the dunes gold, then crimson, then a sickly purple.
Sorien slows.
Farro stops talking entirely - a miracle.
Gavin's curls have transformed into something that could legally qualify as a dry shrub.
I'm delirious enough to think the sand looks comfortable.
Then the wind shifts.
A low vibration trembles beneath our feet.
Sorien lifts a hand. "Storm."
And just like that-
the sky explodes.
A wall of sand rises in the distance, a massive roaring beast made of dust and fury.
"Move!" Sorien shouts.
We sprint.
The sandstorm chases us like a starving tiger, swallowing dunes whole.
I shriek, "THIS IS NOT WHAT I SIGNED UP FOR-"
Farro grabs my wrist. "This way!"
Gavin shoves Sorien forward. "Find cover!"
The world turns dark.
The wind screams.
The sand slices.
Visibility dies.
At the last second, Sorien spots it - a jagged hole in a cliffside.
"A cave!" he yells.
We dive into it just as the storm slams into the rock behind us.
Darkness.
Silence.
Our gasping breaths.
The wind howls outside like a thousand ghosts having a group tantrum.
I slump to the ground. "I hate endurance trials. They should rename it to 'The Trial of Suffering and Terrible Skin Conditions.'"
Farro collapses beside me. "Water... I need water..."
Gavin kicks his boot. "Drink your own tears."
And then-
Something clicks in the dark.
We freeze.
A low growl echoes through the cavern.
Wet. Raspy. Hungry.
I whisper, "Please tell me that was someone's stomach."
Farro whispers back, "If it was, kill me now."
Another growl - closer this time.
Gavin draws his sword. "Form up. Sorien at center."
I blink. "...since when do you take orders?"
He snarls. "Since I'd rather not die in a hole."
Sorien lifts his sword, breath steady. "Everyone stay behind me."
Another click.
Another growl.
Then-
The eyes appear.
Dozens of tiny glowing dots burst open in the darkness - red, yellow, green, shimmering like demonic Christmas lights.
I squeak. "NOPE. NO THANK YOU. ROTTEN IDEA. LET'S GO BACK INTO THE STORM."
Farro lifts a trembling finger. "That's-they're-ARE THOSE BABY DEMONS?"
The first creature scuttles into the firelight.
"Oh gods," Gavin breathes.
"What... is that?" Sorien asks quietly.
I answer honestly:
"A mistake. A biological mistake."
It looks like a giant lizard fused with a centipede, covered in bony plates and armed with too many teeth.
Then another crawls out.
And another.
And twenty more.
The cave pulses with clicking jaws.
Sorien whispers, "Ready yourselves."
Gavin hisses, "I WASN'T READY TO BE A SNACK."
Farro screams first, "GET THEM AWAY FROM ME-!"
The swarm lunges.
---
Swords flash.
Teeth snap.
Creatures shriek.
Farro uses another creature as a club (effective but disgusting).
Gavin is swearing in seven different noble dialects.
Sorien fights like a storm contained in a human body.
Me?
I throw rocks.
And also scream.
A lot.
One creature leaps at me-
Sorien shoves me behind him, slicing it midair.
"Stay close!"
"Working on it!"
Another creature clamps onto Gavin's boot.
He screeches, "GET IT OFF-GET IT OFF-GET IT OFF-"
Farro karate-kicks it.
It flies.
Hits the ceiling.
Falls unconscious.
We all freeze.
"...Did Farro just save you?" I whisper.
Gavin glares. "Tell no one."
Finally - FINALLY - after what feels like an hour (but was probably just Sorien killing everything while the rest of us panicked artistically), the last creature falls.
The cave falls silent.
Our breathing echoes.
The storm outside starts to fade.
Farro flops to the ground. "I'm retiring."
"You don't have a job," Gavin mutters.
"I KNOW."
Sorien cleans his blade, glancing at me. "You're shaking."
"I'm fine," I lie.
Sorien's voice softens. "You held your own."
"No I didn't. You did. I was decorative."
He almost smiles. "A very loud decoration."
I gasp dramatically. "Was that humor? Are you feeling well?"
He rolls his eyes.
Progress.
---
A soft glow sweeps the cave - warm, golden, healing.
The storm quiets to nothing.
The creatures dissolve into dust.
The world shifts-
And suddenly we're back in the Resanarum, standing in the center of the arena, surrounded by rippling light.
The Seer appears, eyes gleaming like pale moons.
"Endurance," he says, "is not surviving one storm, but surviving the many that follow."
Gavin groans. "Can someone please make him stop speaking in riddles?"
Farro leans on Sorien. "Is the next trial... naps? Please say naps."
Sorien shakes his head slowly. "We survived."
I lift a hand weakly. "Can I file a formal complaint? About everything?"
The Seer ignores me - rude - and raises his staff.
"The Trial of Endurance... is complete."
Light explodes.
The arena shifts.
The world breathes.
And the next trial waits.