The Saints of the Radiant Axis linger at the edge of the platform. The ravine is in the distance, and the adventurers pour toward it as if driven by a collective suicide pact. For every one who falls, a dozen more take their place in attempting to cross.

  Evelyn is seated in a chair made of pure light that she conjured up. She presses her hands to her mouth, eyes wide as a child’s, and for a moment she shakes as she tries to contain her laughter at the sight. A moment later a priest prays to Evelyn herself before throwing himself off the side of the ravine. This is enough to break her. Evelyn throws her head back and lets out a laugh that's closer to a howl than anything.

  She turns on Cirelian, grabbing at his sleeve. She’s still laughing, and far too violently at that. "Did you see that dumb fucker walk right off the edge? He seriously thought I’d help him get across!" She points with such gusto that she nearly falls out of her chair.

  "I saw," Cirelian states, and stares straight ahead with his hands on his shield.

  Terra is on the side of the platform, arms crossed as he tries to hide the disgust on his face. He looks down at the ravine and closes his eyes momentarily, as if hoping the scene might change if he just wishes hard enough. Sadly, it doesn’t. Terra spots Clarence and Sen floating over the crowd, and over the ravine. He purses his lips as he watches a blue-haired mage jump after them and drag them into the depths of the ravine.

  "Well enough bodies have hit the bottom, it’s time to spice this thing up a bit! You take a cute little healing spell like this, and then a sinner’s magic, and you get... Blight!" Evelyn raises both hands, and the world seems to shudder. A pulse of white-golden magic erupts from her frame, turning the air above the ravine into a haze of malignant light. The corpses below would soon turn into monstrosities, ready to swarm and kill any poor soul still alive in the ravine.

  "Do you really need to use such magic in our presence?" Caedis says, his voice low and his face does little to hide his utter disgust at the sight. "It’s unholy."

  "It’ll be too easy otherwise! Oh look, they found the barrier I set up!" She gestures with one pale hand, and the crowd’s attention shifts to a man halfway across the ravine, running on nothing but faith. He hits an invisible wall and explodes, leaving only two legs that plummet down below.

  The five of them continue to watch the ravine for the duration of the trial.

  "Well I guess it’s about time to wrap things up. I was hoping that more of them would have died. Seriously, there’s like 50 of them left!" Evelyn tugs at her hair, clearly upset by the outcome.

  Terra, eyes are still locked onto the ravine. Clarence and Sen still haven't come back up yet. With how many people had fallen in the ravine, it must be filled to the brim with monsters by this point. Terra’s eyes fall on Evelyn as he grits his teeth. Would he have to change his plan so soon?

  "Maybe we could wait a moment longer! A few sinners fell into the ravine. It's entirely possible they're still alive," Elen interjects, leaning over Terra's shoulder.

  "Huh? I doubt it. With how many Blight I've got down there, that's-" Evelyn begins to say, but she stops.

  A streak of ivory white flames can be seen coming from the ravines pit. Everyone's attention is drawn to it, and a few moments later, an unknown, inflated sack of black flesh can be seen rising from the ravine's depths. This is followed by a flash of blue, a dryad’s leaf, and Clarence. The trio barely reaches the edge of the ravine, then Clarence and the girl collapse, unconscious, onto the dirt.

  Terra can seen that Sen is stuck between them, and immediately claws his way out to defend their bodies. He throws out gusts of wind, hurling back any adventurer that dares come too close.

  "There’s a couple of sinners in the crowd, gross... Elen, kill them," Evelyn commands, and points to her sister.

  Elen already has her bow out, but before she can nock an arrow, Terra steps forward and grabs hold of the weapon.

  "Everyone that’s reached the other side did so through their own strength and faith," Terra says, voice just loud enough so that every Saint present can hear him. "It wouldn’t be right to kill them now. Where’s the justice in that? Caedis?"

  Caedis does not move for several heartbeats, his eyes fixed on the ravine. Then, with the smallest inclination of his head, he lets out a sigh.

  "He is right. If a couple of sinners managed to make it this far with their own power, then they’ll be of use for the inquisition that’s to come. Allow them to live for now." He holds up a hand to Elen, who slowly releases her grip on the bowstring.

  "Oh, and Terra?" Caedis adds, not looking away from the ravine. "That bow you just so casually grabbed was gifted to Elen by the Lightbringer herself. I will forgive you this time, but if it happens again, I’ll be removing the offending hand."

  "Thank you for your mercy, it won’t happen again." Terra holds his hands behind his back, and goes back to watching the adventurers on the other side of the ravine.

  Caedis directs his voice to the crowd of 50, amplifying it with magic.

  "The third trial has ended! For those of you who have yet to pass, you will die now. May the Lightbringer watch over you poor, lost souls!" He raises his hand, and Cirelian, with a single stomp, sends several of the arenas from the second trial, flying forward. They collide with any adventurer who is still on the wrong side of the ravine. Many die on impact, but those who only become broken, fall into the ravine, and die there. The arenas fall into the ravine, creating a large, flat bridge to the other side.

  Terra watches Cirelian’s face, and he doesn’t see an ounce of pride in the mans actions, he is simply doing a job.

  "For those who have come this far, I’ll keep this short. The fourth trial is the trial of the self. Face your past, overcome your fears, and come out stronger! If you’re unable to do this then you’re unfit to join this inquisition with us! Now begin!" He taps the tip of his blade to the ground, and a wave of golden light sweeps the remaining adventurer.

  And then every adventurer present falls unconscious where they stand.

  *

  Clarence sits at a long table, feet dangling, eyes fixed on a bowl of soup that somehow smells both comforting and unsettling. The room is a haze of faces. Right across from him is Clara, head down on the table and snoring softly; Miriam, has David in a headlock; Gabriel and Iris are deep into their own conversation. Esmerelda is sitting in her own seat, upside down, idly kicking her feet in the air.

  Elias enters the room and takes his seat next to Clara, watching over her. He even shoots Clarence a quick glare. Clarence's own brother, Nathaniel sits at the far end of the table, with his nose buried in a grimoire. Even Jameson is there, running circles around the table, a ball of energy. At the head of the table is Lord Victor who looks tired of it all as nearly a dozen other children swarm around him.

  "Clara, wake up! W-We're back… We went back, didn’t we?" He reaches out and shakes her shoulder, but Clara just groans and waves him away. She looks younger, he realizes. They all do. Like a painting of a memory, except the colors are too bright, and the edges are too soft, too fuzzy…

  "Wow, lackey, you’ve got quite the family here," comes a voice from his right. Clarence turns and sees Isalithe, sitting in the next chair, legs propped up on the table. She looks out of place with her blue mages robes.

  "Isalithe?" Clarence asks, blinking. "Why are you here?"

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  Isalithe massages her temples softly as she rocks on the two back legs of the chair. "If I had to guess, this is the next trial. If this is a memory of yours, then maybe we need to escape, or do something? I don’t know, this shit isn’t my speciality… Also you were cute as a kid! What happened?"

  Clarence looks down at himself, and his eyes widen in surprise. He’s smaller, much smaller. Just like those around him, he too has changed with the memory.

  "I’m little!"

  "Yep, you’re little. I want to check something, try making one of those fireballs you’re so proud of."

  Clarence obliges, and he just barely manages a ball of fire the size of his palm. It’s much weaker than his usual output, and a draft in the house's walls is enough to blow it out.

  "It’s just as I thought. Physically you’ve regressed to accommodate this memory. I wouldn’t be surprised if you mentally regress soon too," Isalithe says, and then holds her own hand up. Five bolts of electricity tendril out from her fingertips, and then she spins her hand around, and shoots a bolt of lightning at a far wall. "I’m feeling just fine though."

  Clarence is no longer listening to Isalithe though. He stares across the hall, eyes wide, and jaw slacked. At the far end of the Grand Hall is his mother, her hair is as red as blood, and her skin is as pale as a ghost's. She takes a tentative step towards Clarence who is already up from his seat.

  He runs around the table, narrowly avoiding his mother's grasp as he leaves the Grand hall, and barrels through the front door. His mother gives chase, leaving the house too.

  "The fuck... What was that about? If this is a memory, then this all happened before. Could it be that he's just acting out what happened?" Isalithe mutters, and begins to rub her temples aggressively as if the action will allow her to understand what's happening here.

  When Isalithe opens her eyes once more, there's an empty white space in the wall behind Clara. She stares at the white block for a moment longer, and then it duplicates. It's slow at first, a block of reality missing here, a block missing there, but soon enough dozens are appearing at once, and the entire wall is gone in an instant.

  Isalithe pushes herself from her chair, and those blocks follow along the ground, dismantling the room piece by piece. It hurts to look at, and Isalithe is already making her way towards the front door. One of the blocks appears on her sleeve, and it's transparent now. She rips her robe off in a moment, throwing it aside as she runs.

  Just as Isalithe is about to reach the front door, it's erased from existence. It's that same empty white space. She turns on her heel, and starts running down a hallway that's already missing a few blocks of reality.

  "So it's a race then, is it? Thunderfall," Isalithe mutters the spell under her breath. Her footfalls hit the ground at thrice the speed speed. She pumps her arms faster, and the world around her begins to blur as she makes for the finish line, a window at the end of the hall.

  Isalithe bursts through the window with a spray of sweat, blood, and broken glass. She hits the ground and rolls several times as gravity tries its best to slow her.

  Isalithe sits up and pants in an attempt to catch her breath. Now outside, she can see just what it is she's dealing with. The world itself is a finite space. Blocks of memory drop away, tumbling into a white void just a dozen yards away. The Crowsongs Manor falls away into the void, and then Clarence's mother comes into view. She runs right at Isalithe, and Isalithe braces for impact, but the two don't collide. Clarence's mother simply phases through Isalithe, and continues chasing after Clarence.

  Isalithe follows Clarence’s mother, who is running toward the woods.

  Clarence's small figure can just barely be seen in the distance.

  "Clarence, this memory revolves around you! If you get too far away, I don’t know what’ll happen to me!" But Clarence is already gone, swallowed by the tree line up ahead.

  Isalithe gives chase one more. Into the Veilwood Periphery, past the Withered Dreads, and finally they arrive at the third layer, the Sorrowmire Grove. The place is more of a decaying swamp than it is a forest, but she finally catches up to Clarence. His back is to a tree, and three wraiths surround him. Each is armed with a blade that looks more designed for torture than combat. A cleaver, a broken broadsword, and a thin, chipped blade.

  He’s too far away, so Isalithe opts to use ranged magic. She conjures up a bolt of barely contained lighting in her hand and throws at the nearest wraith. The spell seemingly crashes into an invisible barrier. The spell doesn’t stop though, it slows, and fizzles out after only making it a few feet past the barrier.

  "I can’t interact with that part of the memory…"

  Isalithe watches as a wraith swings down with its machete. At the last possible moment, a blur of red fills Isalithe’s vision. It's his mother. She takes the blow meant for her son, and holds onto him, shielding him from the wraith's attacks. When the opportunity arises, she pushes him away, and he stumbles out of the barrier that Isalithe couldn’t cross before.

  The wraiths work quickly, hacking and sawing their way through flesh and bone alike. Isalithe wishes she could say it was quick, but it wasn't. Once Clarence's mother finally dies, her spirit is freed from her body, only for a wraith to grab a handful of her hair, and pull her back down. The three take up their weapons once more, intent on making her suffer even in death.

  Clarence stands there, taking it all in as they pull at her spirit, and pin her to the earth. Face blank, a ball of fire appears in his hand and he tosses it at his mother’s soul. She goes up in flames, and he watches until her spirit is no more. Then he turns on his heel and runs right into another woman's waiting arms.

  "Are you hurt?" Ethel asks, her voice warm as she kneels in front of him.

  Clarence just shakes his head from side to side.

  "Where is your mother?" Ethel asks, but before Clarence can answer, a tall, robed figure appears beside them.

  Death, in all his glory. His scythe glistens in the moonlight at his side.

  "Clarence Crowsong, you have reached your First Requiem."

  Clarence’s composure breaks upon hearing those words.

  "I killed her, I took her life! Ethel, my mom, I took my mom’s life, it was all my fault, I took it, I took it, I-I stole it, I-" He sobs into Ethel’s shoulder as she holds him tightly to her chest.

  Isalithe takes a step forward, unsure of what to do, she places a hand on Clarence’s back. Ethel glances up at Isalithe and meets her gaze. It’s only for a moment, but she definitely looks at Isalithe. Ethel’s eyes glow a golden hue, and she looks back to Clarence.

  Then the world fades to black.

  *

  The two of them are back at the table. Clarence sits across from a sleeping Clara, head still on the table. The scene is exactly the same as it was the last time. He has a kitchen knife in hand, and he cuts a square from the tablecloth, sliding it into his shirt pocket. Isalithe then watches as sneaks a spoon, a salt shaker, and even a plate up his shirt.

  "Get a hold of yourself, lackey! We’re in a memory, and we need to get out! What can you tell me about Ethel?"

  "E-Ethel is old. Old spirit. She looks out for everyone. She’s everyone’s mom. She’s not my mom, but she’s everyone else’s mom," Clarence stutters out, and goes back to grabbing a hold of anything that’s not nailed to the foundation.

  "Where is Ethel right now?"

  "W-Why do you want to know?"

  Isalithe yanks the plate away from Clarence, and throws it at the sleeping Clara. It passes right through her, and shatters as it hits the floor.

  "I can’t interact with anyone here other than you, but in the last iteration, Ethel saw me. She looked me right in the eye, and just as quickly she looked away! Your mom’s gonna be here soon, and you can’t run away. We need to find Ethel."

  "Okay… I won’t run," Clarence whispers to himself, and presses his hands into his wet eyes in an attempt to stop anymore tears from falling.

  Just as Isalithe predicted, Clarence’s mother enters the Grand Hall. But...Clarence does not follow along with their plan. As soon as he lays eyes on her, he bolts out the front door, just the same as he did before.

  "Fuck!" Isalithe curses, and follows the two of them.

  The same events play out, and the world resets once more.

  On the third iteration, Isalithe finds Clarence already out of his chair, plucking gems from the sconces that line the walls of the Grand Hall.

  "You said you wouldn’t run when you saw your mom!"

  "I-I don’t know what happened! It just happened, okay?…"

  "It just happened? When you see your mom, that’s when the memory really begins. This is the only free moment you have unless I intervene. Listen up, lackey! You’re going to hide from your mom for as long as you can! If the memory begins when you two see each other, then she’ll likely just stay here until you come into her field of vision."

  "What are you going to do then?"

  "I’m going to find this Ethel of yours and have a talk with her. Now get going!" Isalithe commands, and Clarence is already running down a hallway to the West wing of the Crowsong manor.