Sen finds himself in a rectangle of light. The girl who had stuffed him into a bag and laughed as she did it stands a mere ten feet away from him now. Her hands are curled around a wand, and her teeth are bared in a smile that is all nerves and no joy.

  "I just have to kill you and then I can move on to the next trial!" The girl shouts, and squeezes her wand tighter. "Once I complete all the trials I’ll get a Divine Aspect of my own, so just hurry up and die!"

  She’s short, has blue hair, a large set of thick glasses, and oversized, blue robes. Everything about her is laughable, but her gaze is one filled with determination. Sen has never been good at guessing the age of humans, but she looks close in age to Clara.

  The girl is already charging Sen, a streak of blue hair and flapping sleeves, the wand in her hand flashes with an arc of electricity. She’s fast, faster than she should be for her size, but Sen is ready for her.

  Her wand is mere inches away, and Sen moves his hand the smallest amount, a gesture so slight it could be mistaken for a tremor. The air in the arena answers, not with a gale but with a perfect, sharp breeze that catches the girl’s wand and sends it flying from her hand. She doesn’t miss a beat; her foot comes up, aiming for Sen's body, but the wind carries him out of harm's way.

  He lands, light as a feather, and tries to let out a chirp, but the girl doesn’t listen. She comes at him with both of her arms encased in crackling torrents of electricity, her face twisted in concentration, and her hair stands on end now due to the static.

  He could end this. It would be easy, all he had to do was force the air out of her lungs. But Sen remembers what it was like to be fragile, to be prey, to be stuck in a cage.

  So he can’t do that to this girl.

  Instead, he lets this fight continue, letting her wear herself out. This is a dance, and he can feel her growing tired. Her wild swings turn into desperate jabs, her breath becomes ragged, and she overextends. Sen sweeps her legs out from under her with a strong breeze. She goes down hard, but not hard enough to break anything. Her magic momentarily leaves her as she lets out a pained grunt.

  Sen gathers the air around her, a cocoon of gentle pressure, and pins her to the floor. She struggles, she screams, but the wind only grows, more insistent, until she is forced to lie still.

  A large mass of mana can be felt gathering somewhere, and Sen looks up just in time to see what must be 20 spells going off at once. They tear through numerous arenas, and it’s heading straight for theirs too. Sen throws himself against a wall, and pulls his opponent to him with his wind as the vast majority of their arena is obliterated in an instant.

  "You saved me?... Why? I’m trying to kill you!" The girl screams, and once again her arms become covered in electricity.

  Now that the barrier is gone though, Sen can dispose of her. He holds his hand up, and a strong gust of wind ejects his opponent from the arena, and away. It continues to push her far, far away until an updraft catches her legs and she takes to the sky. The winds carry her out of sight, and away from the dungeon.

  *

  Eight arenas over, Clarence faces a man three times his size, and equally as dense. The geomancer is bald, and only wears sandals and torn shorts. This makes it easy to see the numerous tattoos that cover his body.

  Clarence isn’t simply scared, he’s terrified, but more than that, he’s upset. Upset that he was picked out, upset that he was deemed an easy target, upset that he was stolen away.

  The man opens with a stomp that cracks the arena floor, sending a wave of stone spikes racing toward Clarence.

  Clarence leaps. It’s awkward, and graceless, but just high enough that he avoids taking any damage. The next attack is a boulder, torn from the floor and hurled forward. Clarence ducks, the rock grazing his hair and detonating against the arena’s barrier.

  Clarence tries his own magic. He hurls a fistful of fire at the geomancer, but the man doesn’t even flinch. The flames are merely swatted away, singing hair and darkening the man's skin.

  "I knew you were weak! I’m real smart, I’ve always been good at picking out the weak ones. I get a new tattoo every time I kill a weak one. I’ll get a new one soon because of you!"

  Clarence backs away, heart pounding. He’s scared, he’s really scared. His magic just bounces off of this guy, but…

  He remembers Seraphine’s words.

  "You can’t always rely on magic, so go ahead and pull that blade of yours out. I’ll teach you a few things."

  He draws Trinity’s Thorn.

  The geomancer laughs at the sight of it. "What’s that supposed to do? You think you can poke me to death?"

  Clarence says nothing, and retreats as he pants for air. This only causes his opponent to grin as he holds his hands on his hips, watching the young Crowsong try to catch his breath.

  Clarence waits for the next attack, and when a spray of gravel comes at him, he moves, not around it, but through it. He holds the blade low, but steady. He slices through the debris, and with a swift thrust, it impales his opponent's arm.

  "Pretend to be weaker than you really are."

  There is a sizzling sound, and the tattooed flesh glows where it is cut, a thin line of red. The man howls, more in surprise than pain, and swings at Clarence with a fist that could cave in a skull. Clarence steps back, and reaches into his back pocket. A moment later, he throws a jar of water into the air. A ball of flame hits it, and mist fills the air. Clarence memorizes where his opponent was, and steps back in, going for the thigh this time.

  This wound isn’t nearly as deep, but he does manage to stab the man in the thigh.

  "Use misdirection to get a leg up in a fight. It’s not unfair if you win!"

  The geomancer is angry now. The ground ripples, shifting beneath Clarence’s feet, but he manages to keep his balance, walking, and climbing over moving ground. A boulder rises from the earth, this one is the size of a small child, and the man hurls it forward. Clarence throws himself out of the way, and as the boulder sails overhead, he throws his own weapon in retaliation.

  This surprises the man, and he tries to avoid the spinning weapon, but it cuts his cheek as it passes by.

  "You don’t need to pull off any flashy moves. If it works, it works. Anything is fair as long as you win!"

  The effect is immediate.

  All three wounds ignite at once. A hole is created in the man's arm, and a sizable chunk of his thigh is removed. The explosion on his face isn’t that bad, but he still collapses to the ground, smoldering from the wounds he’s received.

  Clarence stands over him, and grabs Trinity’s Thorn with a trembling hand. He looks at the blade, and then down at the man before stepping away and waiting at the edge of the arena.

  *

  Terra stands over Clara’s body, with Eloria's Vow in his hand. He watches as Clara’s blood pools, hot and dark, soaking through her clothing. Her breathing slows, and he watches her ribs shudder in and out slowly, then he looks at the bloodied, golden sword in his hand. He lets it dissolve into a small spray of bloodied gold, and then into nothing.

  "I forfeit the duel," Terra says, holding a single hand high in the air.

  The ground instantly begins to shudder in response. Terra and Clara’s duel was the last one the Divine Axis was waiting on, and now that it’s ended, the proctor would deal with those who lost.

  Terra looks to the neighboring platform and he sees Cirelian with his own hands held high. He claps his palms together once, and the sound echoes for all to hear. It’s followed by silence, and then death.

  The stone beneath the arenas part and then rise, forming perfect stone slabs around those who had lost their fights. There is no drama during this process; the walls rise in total silence, and the only sound is the wet, crushing noises that come next. Many try to flee from the stone and escape their fates.

  None succeed.

  In the end, there is only a red mist, and the stones that once made up the arenas are now stained a deep red with blood.

  When next Terra blinks, a figure is standing before him. She appears in a blur of white and silver, her eyes wide. She came so fast that she left her bow behind.

  "Uhm, hello? It is clear to all that you were the sole victor, what do you mean you forfeit?"

  "I forfeit. I give up, I concede, I am withdrawing from the battle. It is my loss."

  Elen merely blinks in response. "Hold on! You can’t do that! You won, you-"

  Elen is interrupted by the ground shifting beneath Terra’s feet. Stone walls begin to rise, forming a cage meant for the defeated. Elen lets out a yelp and places herself right in front of Terra, and raises her hands as if to fend off the attack.

  "Hey! Not this one! Not this one!" Elen shouts, and her eyes lock onto Cirelians.

  For a moment, the walls hesitate, as if the earth itself is confused. Then, with a low rumble, the two slabs stop moving. They fall down, and crumble away.

  Elen lets out a sigh and lowers her arms before flashing a smile up at Terra.

  "You know, you’re quite the handsome one. It would be a shame to lose a face like that. And more than that, you’re strong! My sister won’t admit it, but you scared her shitless with that attack of yours."

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "Should a Saint of Eloria be speaking so informally with someone she doesn’t know?" Terra asks.

  "How would you know how a Saint should act? Have you ever met one before?"

  "More than you’d think."

  This answer seems to please her. "Really… Just how old are you?"

  Before Terra can answer, Elen’s demeanor changes. She leans in close, and her voice drops to a whisper. "Sorry, I guess that’s a hard question with your current…affliction. My hearing is quite a bit better than that of my siblings. I heard most of what was said. You’re an undead, and that’s your master right there, right?" She gestures to Clara’s unconscious form with a flick of her eyes.

  "You’re half right. I am undead, but that is not my master."

  "Of course, one such as yourself who has been blessed by Eloria’s holy light would never take commands from one so stooped in darkness…" Elen casts another glance at Clara, and even frowns at her, but her features soften as she looks back at Terra. "You see, I have a secret, and I know that you can keep it. I was born with a special ability, a blessing, if you may. I can see the temperament of one’s soul with my eyes. Honestly? You’re blinding. I’ve never seen a soul so pure, a soul that burns so bright…"

  "Really? That does sound like quite the rare blessing."

  Elen nods as her eyes take on a golden hue, and she smiles even bigger this time. "It is! I know you’re a good person. Please, come with me. I want you to meet my siblings, they’ll be overjoyed to meet someone like you." She extends a hand, palm up and open.

  Terra’s gaze falls to Elen’s sternum. It’s only for a moment, but the sunlight seems to catch his eyes, and they glow a deep shade of gold as he looks upon Elen’s soul. It is impure, but she is far from being a bad person. Terra reaches out and takes her hand in his own, and in the next moment they’re on the other platform with the rest of the Radiant Axis.

  Cirelian barely glances in their direction. He is busy overseeing the last of the executions.

  The spellcaster of the group watches Terra with narrowed eyes though.

  Elen leans in close to Terra, her voice dropping to a whisper once more. "The grumpy looking one is Evelyn. She’s prone to hold grudges, so please, don’t take it too personally."

  Evelyn scoffs as she overhears this, and turns away.

  Terra measures her soul with nothing more than a glance. It is a muddied black that even he finds uncomfortable.

  "You've already met me and Cirelian, so that just leaves-" Elen begins, but is interrupted as the last member of the Radiant Axis steps forward.

  The man is a little taller than Terra, and far more lean, every inch of him radiates an air of confidence that only comes from a lifetime of being the strongest person in every room he’s ever entered. His hair is an ashen grey, and messy. In a way, it’s similar to Terra’s own messy combover. His eyes are a cold blue, like a glacier. He moves with little grace, and more like that of a seasoned warrior. Little armor can be seen other than rounded shoulder pauldrons that seemingly meld in with his white and gold vestments.

  "The name’s Caedis, and who might you be?" His voice is smooth, but rough at the same time. It commands attention, and he gets an answer.

  "Terra."

  Caedis stands with his arms behind his back, chest thrust forward. "That is the name given to you by that necromancer over there. I am asking for your birth name."

  Terra focuses on Caedis’s chest, and sees the soul within. It’s mostly black, with the smallest hint of white. "I don’t believe I had a name before. Terra’s the name now though."

  "Alright, Terra. And what do you know about us? The Radiant Axis." Caedis gestures, gently sweeping his arm to show off his siblings.

  "You all came into this world from humble beginnings. By the time you left it though, you were known as the strongest fighting force in the Western Hemisphere. You’re best known for your eradication of necromancers, and small tribes you deemed to be heretical." Terra lets the words settle, and then quickly adds on. "You didn’t kill all of them though."

  Caedis’s eyes flicker to Clara’s still form from across the way. "It would appear so. Why does that one wear such colorful garments? They are similar to your own. I am used to seeing their kind wearing little more than rags, and robes sewn together from nothing more than trash."

  "Three centuries after the fall of the Radiant Axis, far to the West of our homeland, a threat unlike any other entered into this world. The Kingdom of Astrovia sent their most trusted vassals to the corners of the continent to plead for help in quelling the ancient terror. Eira commanded the Snowfall Eiraschade to move, Eloria collected her Saints, and the Ashenveil Sisterhood even came to assist in the subjugation of this evil. Death himself finally chose a living being to represent him unlike those beasts he relied on before. He chose the Crowsong clan, and they too came. That girl is one of the few remaining survivors of that clan, a family of necromancers."

  "A threat unlike any other? You speak as if you were there yourself."

  Terra says nothing.

  Caedis considers this for a moment, then shakes his head dismissively. "She is still a necromancer though, no? She should be put to death immediately." He takes a step towards Clara, but Terra moves to intercept him, holding a hand in front of him.

  "I'm going to have to disagree with you, and I ask that she be exempt from any of the other trials."

  Caedis merely stops and looks down at Terra’s hand. "And why is that?"

  "She is an exceptional fighter. You saw the blow she dealt to me during my duel with her. If you allow her to live then she will certainly be of use during the holy inquisition." In Terra’s other hand, a small bit of ice forms into the shape of a dagger just behind his back.

  Caedis’s eyes widen, but only the smallest amount. "If I say no, then are you going to prick me with that blade you’re hiding?"

  "Terra wouldn’t! He’s pure of soul, I saw it myself! I-" Elen begins to shout.

  "No, it’s alright." Terra says, and opens his palm to reveal a ball of ice. "As you’re well aware, this body is not my own. If I don’t keep it cool then I will begin to rot, and it is awfully hot all the way up here." Terra shakes his head before pressing the ice to his temple, sighing with obvious relief.

  Caedis grins, and then turns away from Terra. "Be sure to regulate your body temperature. The girl will be exempt from any further trials per your request. Now, Evelyn, are you ready to-"

  Evelyn can be seen hanging from Cirelian’s arm, suspended in air as she shouts in his ear.

  "Don’t kill them all! I need some to replenish my mana! Stop! Stop it!!! Stop!!!!!"

  "Cirelian, listen to your sister. Bring three of the losers here," Caedis commands.

  Evelyn drops from Cirelian’s arm and floats toward Caedis now. Her dress billows in the wind, and her face is red with anger.

  "Five! I need five at the very least!"

  "Two," Caedis argues.

  "Are you fucking deaf? I said five! A handful! I-"

  "One," Caedis says, and holds a single finger up to Evelyn’s face.

  "You’re impossible! What am I supposed to do with one?!" Evelyn cries, banging her fists against Caedis's chest in anger.

  A moment later, a slab of earth brings one of the losers to the top of the platform. The loser hits the ground hard as he lets out a pained groan. Evelyn floats over to the man and smiles down at him.

  "Fine, I’ll just make do with one… Welcome, sinner! You have lost your battle, therefore you must die."

  The man is a bald brute, covered in tattoos and a piece of his cheek is missing, along with a large chunk of his thigh. They were likely wounds received from fighting a pyromancer. "The fuck are you talkin’ about!? I didn’t lose, I was about to get back up and crush that little shit to death. Just you wait, you little bitch!" He points a finger dejectedly at Evelyn, and in a moment it’s gone, then his wrist, then his forearm, and then his entire arm to the shoulder. He shrieks in pain and clutches the bleeding stump. The remnants of his arm lie on the ground underneath him.

  Terra barely saw what caused this. Thin sheets of light appeared between the joints, dissecting the man's arm in less than a second.

  Evelyn waits for the screams to die down to sobs and pained whimpers before she addresses the man once more.

  "Poor sinner, don’t you know that insulting me, a Saint, is tantamount to insulting Eloria, the Lightbringer? If you’re extra nice and apologize then you won’t have to lose your arm. Apologize to me, the Saint of Mercy, now!"

  The man looks up, eyes wide with fear. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Saint of Mercy, oh holy Saint of Eleanor! T-The uhm… The Light…"

  Terra cringes at the man's mistake. Before the only killing intent that could be felt was Evelyn’s, but now Terra can sense the ire of each and every one of the Saints. All but Elen converge on him in an instant.

  "Cirelian, hold him down. I’m going to make sure he doesn’t bleed out," Caedis demands, and marches over to the man on the ground.

  The man looks around in a daze, but finds a large boot pinning him to the ground in a moment. It’s Cirelians. Next, Caedis holds a hand over the man's nub, and with a small golden glow, it stops bleeding right away.

  "Eleanor… You called our holy Matron, Eloria, the Lightbringer, ‘Eleanor’, didn’t you?" Evelyn whispers, and takes a step forward. She tosses her staff aside, and holds both of her hands out.

  "Things are going to get messy, don't let him die," Evelyn instructs, and both of her hands begin to glow a golden hue as Caedis nods to her.

  The man begins to writhe under Cirelian’s boot, but he is unable to move even an inch.

  "Wait! No! I’m sorry! I-"

  His pleas fall on deaf ears though.

  "Trisection." No sooner does Evelyn say this, and three perfect sheets of light slice through the man's foot. A small spurt of blood escapes, but Caedis instantly heals the wound.

  This does not lessen the pain, but it stops any immediate loss of blood.

  This goes on for the duration of both legs, inching up three cuts at a time until they reach his hip. By the time the Saints start on his remaining arm, he can no longer scream, his voice has grown too hoarse. The only thing that can be heard is small whimpers as tears stream down his face.

  Once it’s finished, he is surrounded by four dark, red piles of meat. Caedis and Cirelian release him. Evelyn leans forward, and looks down at him, beaming from ear to ear.

  "Isn’t there something you’d like to say?"

  "Saint of Mercy, I’m sorry... I-I’m sorry for disrespecting the holy Matron, Eloria, the Lightbringer! I will atone for this sin for the rest of my life!" He stutters, a weak half cry.

  "That’s much better! Don’t you feel better now, sinner?" Evelyn says, waving a hand over him.

  His sobs stop instantly.

  His arms and legs are back.

  There are no wounds, no scars, nothing to so much as mark what he had just experienced. His eyes widen as he holds his hands out in front of him.

  He crawls to Evelyn right away, head bowed low. "Thank you, oh Saint of Mercy! I am eternally-"

  Evelyn kicks him in the face, her heel causing his teeth to invert and snap away as they fall into his mouth. He collapses and begins to cough them up, but she is relentless. Both his legs are obliterated in an instant by a sheet of light, reduced to mush, and he howls in agony once more

  Elen grabs a hold of Terra’s arm and pulls him away from the sight, whispering, "I’m sorry about that. My sister, you see… she has an affliction of her own. She was blessed with the greatest healing this world has ever known, but to replenish her mana, she must inflict pain upon others."

  Terra glances back quickly. Evelyn is stomping on the man's head. Each time he’s about to pass away, she brings him back from the precipice of life and death with her magic. This goes on for quite some time before she accidentally kills him.

  Evelyn’s dress is entirely drenched in blood by this point, but she seems only slightly out of breath.

  "That wouldn’t have taken so long if you gave me five like I wanted…" She mutters, glaring at Caedis all the while.

  Caedis merely shrugs as he crosses his arms. "Does that mean you’re ready now?"

  Evelyn sighs and floats to the edge of the platform, holding her hands high, waving to those below.

  "Hi, and hello adventurers! Congratulations on passing another trial. You’re already halfway there, you’re all doing great! To show my appreciation, I would like to share a blessing with each and every one of you!"

  She picks her staff up and holds it aloft. A small pulse of white light emerges, then a second larger one, then a third that expands in a wave across the surrounding area. Every remaining adventurer is caught in its glow, wounds knitting, bruises fading, even bones aligning with surgical precision. When the spell ends, Evelyn tosses her staff behind her and claps her hands in delight.

  "Yay! You should all be in tip-top condition for this next trial! Talking about your next trial, I am your proctor, Evelyn, the Saint of Mercy! I want as many of you to survive as possible, so this will be an easy one! The first trial was one of the soul, the second was one of the body, and this will be one of faith! You all must pass across the ravine to the South the allotted time limit. I will use my divine powers to allow those with faith to walk across! But for those of you who doubt Eloria, the Lightbringer, you will fall into the ravine’s depths. You may not go around, but you are allowed to climb down and then up, but I wouldn't recommend that method… Now begin!"

  The few hundred surviving adventurers begin to move toward the ravine at once. Terra watches as the third trial begins, and in the corner of his eye, Evelyn’s soul grows just a bit darker.

  They're worse than he thought.