Chapter 4
Imarvel at the hard cobblestones beneath my feet.
We traveled two months to reach Snomas, the only area in the Highlands where the first trial is held.
Excitement and trepidation coil in my stomach; it’s my first time in a new town.
I clutch my cloak tighter around me. It’s held up remarkably well despite its daily use since Sully gifted it to me nearly five years ago.
Here in Snomas, we are still far from the hilly Midlands, dripping with waterfalls and meadows, where Gildorea Universitás was established.
And farther still from the capital, Riicah, in the rich old-growth forest of the Lowlands, where the Queen’s emerald castle sits atop cliffs that give way to the ocean.
The last rays of sunlight twinkle goodnight over the jagged fangs of mountain peaks.
I take in the single-story stone buildings lining Mainstreet, dimly lit by the faerie light lanterns strung along metal posts peppering the walkway.
Each building is filled with various goods: fabrics and leathers, books, spices, herbs.
There’s even a bakery still alight, displaying window shelves overflowing with so many colorful desserts, I start drooling.
I imagine what the sensation of sweet icing would be like melting on my tongue.
That’s as good as it’s going to get though, since I’m certain I don’t have enough coins to afford anything.
I wonder how Sully is faring. After we initially arrived, he told me to explore the town while he went off to talk with every military person he could find in an attempt to get my name on the list. I don’t know if Sully is well-known from his time in service, but he was an Ellian Knight, and that has to matter.
Plus, he killed a Wuvon and their Crowven before he retired.
That must be a big deal, right? I shake my head.
Of course it is. I shouldn’t doubt his ability to get me on the list. He never seemed worried about it.
The racket of a group of drunk Elarians screaming at each other causes me to lengthen my strides, avoiding all the noise I’m not accustomed to.
The shadows cast by the buildings here are large enough for me to dance through, but I ignore their call to meander on the main road, absorbing everything new and foreign.
I snarl at a male air Pixie, who knocks into me in a hurry, fluttering on translucent wings.
Shifting my attention to the shop he was leaving.
It’s filled with fabrics strewn together to create eccentric outfits.
My eyes catch on a black dress made of shimmery material in the shop window.
I walk into the store with an undeniable urge to touch the fabric.
“That black velvet dress would look absolutely divine on you,” an odd, jovial voice muses from behind, startling me.
I turn to see a male-like figure with long, metallic gold hair, done up in a high braid.
Their face is painted in makeup that makes them almost look like a female; they are stunning.
Their form is of a Fae, except their arms are covered in purple scales with ears shaped like fins.
My eyes widen; they’re a Pesche, a fishlike Fae subspecies I’ve heard Sully talk about.
They’re originally from a continent that lies further south, called Perch.
Unfortunately, political unrest and pirates plague their country, leading to some Pesche splitting off to make Cascara their new home.
I recall Sully harping on how they’re excellent swimmers and insanely quick on land thanks to their scales, reducing turbulence and drag.
I clench my jaw, preventing it from gaping, as I curiously glare at the being before me.
Canary-colored eyes look me up and down. Taking in my disheveled appearance from months of traveling on the road, the weapons sheathed along my body and peeking out of the large bag slung over my shoulder.
“Well, this attire and your… lack of hygiene certainly won’t do, darling.
Not in my shop.” They flick their wrist, and water washes over me, drenching me as I gasp.
What the fuck is going on? I don’t even know this Fae.
Their fingers twirl, wringing the water from my clothes and hair into a muddy, suspended puddle, floating beside me before splashing it out on the street through the open doorway I’m still perched in.
I look down to find I’m spotless, my hair and clothes clean. Their flagrant use of magic on a stranger alarms me. I’m glad Sully isn’t here to see this. He always scolds me for using my magic frivolously. You never know when you will need all your reserves to save your life.
“Ah, that’s much better. Now let me get this dress off the display for you.”
“Do you normally go around bathing your customers without permission?” I scowl, checking my weapons to make sure they didn’t abscond with any.
“I have a reputation to uphold, and you smelled… well…like a vagrant. Now that you’re clean, let's get you into the dressing room!” They beam.
I eye them suspiciously. Why are they so set on getting me into this dress? “No, that won’t be necessary. I don’t have that kind of coin,” I grumble, turning to leave.
“Nonsense. Clothing is my art. By the looks of you, perhaps metalcraft is yours? You’re certainly drenched in enough weapons.
” Their eyes drifting down, splaying their fingers to inspect their nails before they continue.
“It just so happens that I’m in need of a short sword.
One can never be too careful, you know, with the Blackwood advancing every day.
Do you have an extra one you’d be willing to part with for a trade?
” They flit around me, blocking off my exit.
“Blocking my way is very unwise. It would displease me to mess up your beautiful makeup,” I growl low. I don’t like this stranger trapping me.
“Apologies. I didn’t mean to upset you. I can get a little overzealous. It’s the artist in me. Especially when I find a being who… completes the image in my head.”
I pull my large bag in front of me, rattling around to find an extra short sword.
I crafted several, since I knew I couldn’t access a forge until entering Universitás.
Short swords are my preference over long or greatswords.
I snatch the weapon by the hilt, shoving the flat side against their chest.
“Take it, give me the dress, and stay out of my way.”
“Oh, yes! ‘Tis a shame I won’t get to see it on you… but, alas, my mind can dream,” they squeak as they take the sword, prancing over to remove the dress from the mannequin before delicately wrapping it and handing it to me.
I trudge towards the inn, more than done with people for the day.
If only there was a stretch of Mysticwoods close enough to slip away to.
I miss the soothing hum of nature. A frown folds over my lips.
I may never see some of my favorite alpine creatures again, who once made the wild feel like home.
I enter through the loud bar of the inn, heading upstairs to our room at the end of the hall.
There is a quaint, round, wooden table in front of a shabby couch by the metal hearth, with a small window looking at the wall of another building over the sink.
I hear a rattling cough from one of the wooden doors off to the side. I guess Sully went to bed already.
I head to the other door. My body collapses onto a wooden bed with a stiff mattress stuffed with wool as I drop my pack on the floor. My head falls to the pillow, letting sleep consume me.
I shoot out of bed like a forest sprite rising in spring. My blood humming with adrenaline. The first trial is today. A pit tightens in my stomach, despite Sully training me since I was nearly eight years old.
Or maybe the pit is from the sound of Sully’s cough that tortured me throughout the night. The cough has lingered and continues to worsen, despite me trying every magical healing herb Sully taught me.
The last few years have been like a vice slowly spinning. Constricting. Tighter and tighter around my heart. I watched Sully retire earlier and earlier each night from our training session, as his overpowering grizzly bear form dwindled, more akin to a brown bear now.
His demeanor changed during training, too.
I could see a hidden sadness in his eyes, just for a second, as I mastered harder and harder skills.
It was almost as though he felt making me stronger was putting me in more danger, rather than keeping me safe.
But he still refused to elaborate on his cryptic words that night by the fire and kept pushing me harder.
Some days he pushed me so hard, I think he was hoping I would quit. But I enjoyed the challenge.
When I tried to pester him about traveling to find a stronger healer for his cough, he waved me off, saying, “Focus on your first trial. This cough is nothing to worry about. Just too many years of inhaling fumes from the forge, and now I finally got to cough it all up.”
Even I could tell he didn’t believe his own words. I spent all of my free time delving deeper and deeper into the Mysticwoods, speaking to any plant, mushroom, or creature who would listen. Trying to find a cure for a cough that wouldn’t relent.
I sip on a warm cup of silk bark and frostflower tea, steam rising between my eyes as the cup sits between my hands, braced against my lips. The warm liquid slinks down my throat, heating my muscles, while racing thoughts of the first trial consume my mind.
I will be dropped into a pit where one of three monsters could be released. I either win or become dinner. Simple. A nervous laugh sneaks out as I gulp my tea. My next sip balls up in my throat, refusing to submit. I will fucking survive today, I repeat to myself as my grip tightens on the mug.
I spread my knees, grounding my feet, clenching the warm mug tighter as I swallow harder. The tea abides, settling heat in my stomach, casting off the chill lingering on my skin.
“What is the weakness of the Casin?” Sully chimes as he grabs my shoulders, shaking me, causing me to spew my next sip on the table.
“For a big old man, you sure can be quiet, Sully! Wait, were you trying to sneak up on me? You know you don’t always need to keep me on my toes…” I stick out my tongue at him, wrinkling my nose as I wipe up the mess.
“You didn’t answer my question. Are you getting slow and dull-witted at your age? Already?” he teases.
I sling him an annoyed scowl, but a smile curls on my lips at seeing him so full of energy, like he used to be before that fucking cough. “My failure would only be a reflection of you, big ol’ bear! Now let a lady drink her tea in peace.” I sigh.
“Ouch. That may have actually hurt my feelings if I didn’t know who trained you.” He smiles. “And I still expect an answer.” A knowing brow arches at me.
A Casin is an undead, humanoid-like creature with hollow white eyes, elk antlers, and poisonous, rotten flesh.
“A Casin’s weakness is their unsteady shoulder joints before their disturbingly long arms. Two daggers to the shoulder, and one to the knee.
Then slit its throat, but don’t let its skin touch you, and mind the antlers.
They are fast once they get moving, so distance and not missing your targets are key.
If you do miss a target, create distance, and strike again. ”
He smiles with pride, taking his big hand and ruffling up my hair again.
I cross my arms, blowing the hairs out of my face as I huff.
“Bone-thresher, a creature made of thick bones with long bone spikes down its back into its tail. Its skull has a lockjaw. If it bites down, you’re as good as dead.
Normally, it prefers pouncing on its prey from high places.
Weakness: less agile in tighter spaces like the pit, without the high ground, but the only way to kill it is the soft gullet, the finger-length unprotected area down the underbelly of its neck.
The key is sliding under the beast to cut its throat. This is your only chance.”
Sully manages to ruffle my hair again! I scowl at him, unamused, as I blow even more hair out of my face this time, twirling like beams of rainbow light trapped in a crystal prism.
“Now you’re just showing off, huff the little dragon.” He scoffs before continuing, “Remember: no use of magic in the pit, or you will be disqualified. But wear your armor. It will keep you safe.”
I pause before looking up at him, leaning back into my chair. “Isn’t that kind of cheating?” I shrug. I’m not opposed to breaking a few rules, as long as I don’t get caught and screw up my one chance of getting into Gildorea.
He smiles slyly. “Only if you get caught. But I made it to not be seen. Plus, I’d rather you lived through the trial and be disqualified than be cleaning your bloody mess off the pit floor.” He winks at me.
I stand up and try to shove him for suggesting there’s even a chance I could lose today. Despite how much he’s withered in the last six months, it’s still like pushing into an old tree, firmly rooted. I change the position of my arms, falling into him with a big bear hug instead.
He whispers over my head, “I don’t doubt you for a second.”
My heart is almost full at that moment as I push his sickness out of my mind and savor this memory, breathing in the familiar smell of metal and soot.