CHAPTER 3 #2
“The first challenge will take place in one week,” Kilian said.
“You’ll need to use the time to prepare.
The sparring room we’re in is available for all.
Make use of the facilities provided in Valhan House and Lomask.
You are free to wander the city and visit the libraries, but do bear in mind that Lomask’s citizens do not take kindly to deserters.
They have been warned not to offer you any elven food or drink or harm any of you for the duration of the Mortal Trials, but should you choose not to participate, you will no longer be afforded the protection of the Trials. ”
Kilian glanced to Blondie at his right and took a small step back. “Septimus will explain the rules.”
Septimus cleared his throat. “The first challenge will test your survival skills. For this one, you will be split into three groups of four. Split at your own discretion. It does not matter to us.” He gave us an expectant look, accompanied by a shooing motion, the rings on his fingers glinting as they caught the light. “Well, go on.”
There was a hustle of activity as people broke off, chatting to those closest to them. Lana and I shared a look. We did not need to say anything further to know we would stick together. We turned to face Rayna and Moric.
Rayna gave us a dubious look, her nose scrunching slightly.
“I’d offer to pair with you, but honestly, you don’t look like you’d last very long in a survival challenge.
” Rayna’s eyes scanned the torn material of my sleeve, the cut on my wrist and tense set of my shoulder, the joint having nearly subluxated.
“Maybe you’d manage,” she said to Lana, “But I doubt you’d consider pairing without Lirah? ”
Lana shook her head. “It’s going to be a hard no.”
Tears nearly welled in my eyes at how fiercely loyal Lana was to a girl she had met only an hour ago.
But Rayna was right. This was a survival challenge, and only the strongest stood a chance.
I had grown up peeling vegetables and cooking stew.
I had not traveled Tarlor. I had not even met anyone from any of the neighboring isles. I was inexperienced in survival.
“Lana,” I said to her. “It’s okay. Rayna’s right. You need to do what’s best for you.”
“I know. And what’s best for me is sticking with you,” Lana said simply.
Rayna nodded. “Good luck to the both of you.” She turned to Moric. “What about you? Are you coming or staying?”
Moric shook his head. His eyes, a striking shade of hazel which contrasted against his dark skin and the jet-black hair cropped close to his head, narrowed. “It’s a survival challenge. If it comes down to sticking a knife in my back so that you stay alive, I know you wouldn’t hesitate.”
There was a bite in his words, and I wondered what exactly had happened during their unofficial challenge.
“I’m staying.”
Rayna shrugged. “I won’t apologize for prioritizing my survival.”
With that, she pocketed her lighter, turned on her heel and headed toward another group.
“That means nothing if you lose your soul in the process,” Moric muttered at her retreating form.
“Welcome to the Mortal Trials,” Lana said sardonically.
I scanned the rest of the room. There was one group that had broken off and formed a quartet. Rayna stood near three men, all twice her size. There was only one other person who stood on her own farther out, a distant look on her face.
I jerked my head toward the older woman. “What about her?”
Lana gave me a look that clearly asked if I was being serious. “She’s too old. She’ll never be able to keep up with us.”
I pressed my lips together, biting down with my teeth.
The woman was old. Perhaps the same age as Umma.
And though she might slow us down during the challenge, she had probably seen five different Trials.
Maybe she had heard stories of how others had passed various challenges.
Besides, it seemed Rayna had joined the group of men and now stood with them next to the other squad.
“It doesn’t look like we have a choice,” Moric said, observing the same.
Lana groaned as Moric waved the woman over.
“If she gets us killed, I’m going to be so mad at you,” she hissed.
The woman crossed over to us, a questioning look on her face.
“We’d like you to join our group,” Moric said when she had reached hearing distance.
“Me?” Surprise colored the word. “Are you sure? The others said…”
“We’re sure.” I gave her a soft smile, one I usually reserved only for Umma. I knew it was stupid and probably just because she was older, but something about her reminded me of my mother, of baked bread and warm fires. Of home. “What’s your name?”
“Anama,” she said. Like the herb that only grew on the western isle of Kraventhorn.
“We’re Lirah, Lana, and Moric.” I pointed us out, our names starting to feel like the childhood game Umma used to play with me where we kept adding items to a list, seeing if we could remember each one.
With the groups finalized, Septimus said, “You will find your dorms in the hallway beyond this room. Bathrooms are shared and at the end of the hallway. Tomorrow morning, you will each be assigned an instructor who will guide you through the Trials. Meals will be served in the mess hall one floor above. Any questions?”
“Yeah,” Rayna said. “How do we know our food won’t be poisoned?”
Septimus rolled his eyes. “It won’t be. Everything in Valhan House is safe for mortal consumption.”