Chapter 5
Charisma
No one realized I was here yet, so I used that to my benefit, observing my surroundings before making my presence known.
The arena that yesterday was bare except for a weapons table, now had a climbing wall towered ahead, streaked with thick and thin green vines instead of handholds to grip.
Yvonne yelped as her foot slipped off a tendril.
I held my breath, teeth sinking into my bottom lip as my mind took the reins and formed a scenario—I imagined how she fell from the vertiginous height, her arms flagging in the air, searching for something to grasp before she plummeted on the marble ground, blood splattering everywhere.
Goose bumps erupted on my arms as I watched her, my mouth agape as her hair swayed behind her before she gripped a wide vine and regained her balance.
The air I’d been clutching slipped through my lips.
Yvonne peered over her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with a strange mix of triumph and relief before she ascended again, a determined expression on her face.
I pushed the morbid image away as others attempted the climb, their movements tentative, distrustful of the strange, living grips.
Beside the wall, long ropes as broad as sprawled from the circular margins to the floor.
Draven gripped one with both hands, his fingers whitening against the abrasiveness of the string as he hauled himself upward, working his legs and torso at once.
Every time his palms moved forward, a trace of blood was left behind.
With each pull, the rope quivered, but I tore my gaze away and focused on the shifting terrain next to me.
The area was wide enough to accommodate three people at once, their feet running before them as the unforgiving ground refused to remain motionless.
Platforms of stone shifted and tilted without warning; rising, falling, and spinning as if the earth itself was alive.
Each step demanded constant adjustments—one moment the ground was solid beneath them, the next tilting, forcing them to leap before it shifted to a muddy road.
In the blink of an eye, the ground morphed into a pool, and the twins and Verena hit the surface with a loud splash, their limbs immediately starting to move.
A shiver ran down my spine, causing the hairs on my arms to stand on end. I observed that the contestants seemed more interested in identifying each other’s weaknesses than in dedicated training.
Yvonne watched with a glint in her eyes as Verena struggled to keep pace with the turning tides of the water.
With his tongue against his teeth, Draven’s gaze conveyed his annoyance as he observed Yvonne climb effortlessly.
Even Zachary strained, pushing his physical limits in a desperate bid to edge ahead of his brother and Verena.
My teeth gritted against each other. It would be an unwise choice to train now. I was going to return later tonight.
“Ready to sleep?” 226688 asked a couple of hours later when everyone was asleep.
“No. Veyrith us to the arena.”
The fairy made a show of rounding his eyes. “Now you want to train? You should sleep! Why do you have to do everything backward?”
I was doing things backward, but I had my own reasons, and it wasn’t because I was stubborn or considered myself too good to train with the rest—quite the contrary.
We all had our weaknesses, myself included, ready to be exposed if the situation arose, and it was my duty to prevent that from happening.
Neither the giant ropes nor the climbing wall caused my discomfort—though both made my toes curl.
I had a small, perhaps insignificant advantage: my hands and feet were calloused enough that they wouldn’t bleed or slip.
But, there was something in that arena that awoke a sickening feeling in my stomach, threatening to spill all its contents out.
I had a vulnerability, or better said, a lack of skill that promised my imminent death.
I was afraid I wouldn’t overcome it just by counting on my survival instincts.
A fear of heights could be defeated if a life was at stake.
A fear of the dark could diminish if one’s existence was in danger.
A life or death situation wouldn’t magically bestow missing abilities—it was as useless as holding a knife to someone’s throat and demanding they read, despite their illiteracy.
It would be impossible, even with the natural self-preservation instinct.
With a sigh, I blinked myself back to reality. “Just do it.”
226688 tightened his eyes, head tilting, like he wanted to read something about me hovering under the surface. As soon as his fingers snapped, relief washed over me. I didn’t like being seen.
Then we plunged into the inky blackness.
When I opened my eyes, we were inside the colossal arena. My head throbbed; a stinging sensation like something had bored into my skull, and I let out a grunt, the sound amplifying in the sudden hush as I stumbled backward.
It will get worse before it gets better.
“Just how bad will this get?” I asked, my voice strained as I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers against my temples. The pain was searing, a brand against my skin.
“Worse than this. It should be over in three . . . two . . . one.”
The pain was gone, fading away like a forgotten secret in the dead of night.
I peeled my eyes open and placed a hand on my full stomach. I shouldn’t have eaten so much.
The arena was empty, but I found solace in its stillness.
It gave me the opportunity to think, unburdened by distractions.
My eyes scanned the area, a panorama I’d glimpsed before, with the sun chasing away the shadows of the night.
Though it was strange to witness, the warmth of the day was far more inviting than the biting cold. It was always sunny in the arena.
“How is it possible that there’s sun at night? And why only here?” As the sun’s rays softly touched my skin, the words rushed out of me.
226688 sighed. “I am not allowed to say much, but to satisfy your human curiosity, the god’s creators—and enemies—live there. The sun striking at night is their way of letting us know they’re observing us.”
“Strange. We are taught that the universe gave birth to the gods, not the sun.”
He nodded, his gaze drifting away with a melancholy I couldn’t place. “That is partially true.”
Deciding not to push for more, my eyes moved to the shifting terrain.
“You said I couldn’t drown, correct? That it would eventually change to solid ground?”
“Correct,” he replied, and I let out an audible breath in relief, but then, of course, he had to talk again.
“Unless you have a panic attack and the oxygen doesn’t get to your brain, and you die before—”
“Comforting,” I mumbled.
The fairy bit his cheek, offering me a smile.
“If that happens, would you be able to get me out?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Why?”
“Magic is forbidden on the training grounds. All I can do is veyrith us here and nothing more. And as you can see, my great muscles”—he stopped to flex them—“no matter how big, can’t drag you out.”
Though this was quite a hassle, I couldn’t back down. I assumed there would be aquatic trials, so I had to build up my swimming skills to a decent level before I could attempt them. Unless I was lucky enough for that to be the first trial.
It was fine. It would not be a problem. As long as I remained calm, the shifting terrain would eventually bring me to the surface.
Stay calm, I told myself as I undid my boots.
Stay calm, I thought when I unbuttoned my pants and let them fall on the ground before stepping out of them.
Stay calm, I repeated when I pulled my shirt over my head and placed the dagger between my clothing. I was glad I slid it into my pants before heading out.
Finally, I stood there in only my lingerie, the loose cups of the oversized bra creating an awkward space between my chest and the fabric. I grimaced. It was an unpleasant view, and my protruding ribs only made it worse.
“Don’t worry, you have the biggest ta-tas I’ve ever seen.”
I shot him a glare, remembering I wasn’t alone. Though he may have intended it as a compliment, it did not come across that way. The only ta-tas he had ever seen were presumably those of a fairy, no bigger than my fingernails, so the compliment wasn’t exactly encouraging.
My nails bit into the skin of my palms as I watched the changing terrain, knowing that the unforgiving waves I had seen before would appear again. I shuddered as the pavement’s harshness yielded to a rocky path before dissolving into a muddy road.
I had to do this. My escape plan remained, but the possibility of failure loomed, and I had to be ready for the trials that awaited.
Like a chime from a tower bell, the water surfaced; perfectly timed. I took a deep breath, my limbs shaking. My nerves were jangling, but there was no time for a moment of hesitation.
Stretching one leg over the other, I dove through, the water closing around me. Despite the sun, my skin erupted in goose bumps at the contact with the icy water, a warning shiver coursing down my spine as I continued my descent.
I realized then that there was no bottom in this vicious ocean to propel me upwards like the lake in front of our shack. It was infinite.
Shit.
Below, the world morphed into shades of sapphire and emerald hues, while fractured fragments of sunlight were mirrored in the coins lying on the seabed. My lungs burned, a frantic drumming against my ribs.
Focus, Charisma. Stay calm and swim to the surface.
I ignored the sting in my eyes, pushing down on my feet as if I could feel the ground beneath them. It didn’t work. If anything, it only made me sink farther.
Use your arms. Your legs. Get to the surface.
The pressure, a tightening vise, squeezed the air from my chest. Panic clawed at the edges of my resolve. I flailed, arms windmilling uselessly in the liquid. Bubbles escaping my desperate gasps streamed upwards, mocking my plight.