The Elder Lands
Chapter 27

The passage was dark and spiraling, but not too lengthy. It only took Lucan a bit of time before he was liberated from its narrow confines, replaceing himself in a large hall with a flat ceiling. At the center of the hall, there was a bronze-colored, metal sphere floating in the air. The sphere was larger than a head and porous. Through its holes, he could see more metal spheres and small parts spinning quickly. The outer sphere itself spun lazily, unaffected by its constituents.

There was a table with two opposed chairs in front of him, but Lucan only noted them in passing, his eyes fixed on the spinning, floating, and impossible sphere. Magic. Oh, he’d seen a bit of magic before, but not enough, it seemed. He gaped at the artifact for a while before he got his bearings, and turned his head this way and that, until he caught sight of her Highness.

She was on his left, the distance between them larger than when they’d entered the passages, but that wasn’t the first thing to catch Lucan’s eyes. What caught them was the faint fog between them. He could see the princess well enough, but there was a slight blur threatening that clarity of vision.

He was surprised to replace that the princess was as bewildered by the sphere as he was, from what he could see. She was staring at it intently, with a twist of disbelief to her features. It meant that it wasn’t ordinary, after all, even for someone well acquainted with magic. Lucan, like most nobles, knew that she was a mage, but not much more about the intricacies of her practice.

Without warning, she swiftly turned her head in his direction, catching his eyes and smiling playfully. “I suppose this will be as wondrous as promised. Already, there’s such a bewildering sight.” She gestured towards the sphere.

Lucan nodded softly, though he was perplexed by her tone. In the outer hall, she’d been quiet, restrained, and regal. She had only spoken the least amount of words that could deliver her meaning, and she hadn’t seemed amenable to pleasant talk, only what was necessary. Here, she was different.

Perhaps having discerned the question in his eyes, she spoke, “Oh, it seems I’ve confounded you. Worry not. You see, there,” she gestured backwards, “I must carry myself in a certain manner in front of my retainers. Particularly the knights. They’re quite stuffy. Though…” she sighed, “I do have some new maids who think they can please me by seeming all prim and proper.”

Lucan only endorsed her every statement with a small, polite nod, unsure of what to say.

“It is quite impolite to let a lady speak to herself,” she gave him a pointed look.

Lucan stammered before quickly steadying himself. He inclined his head and said, “Apologies, Your Highness. I didn’t mean to turn a deaf ear. I just don’t know what to say.”

“There’s little you could say that would offend me,” she said. “Worry not.”

Lucan realized that those words did somewhat liberate him. He hadn’t thought that he would insult her. He knew how to be polite and proper in the presence of those above his station, but he couldn’t help but worry about offending royalty, even when he didn’t know how it could happen. Her statement now gave him a feeling of true freedom to speak in her presence.

“Well, your highness, I’m astonished by…” He looked at the sphere, words unneeded to convey his meaning.

“Yes,” she said. “House Elmere’s artifact is quite something. It’s said that the third Lord Elmere, a formidable mage, found it in an ancient ruin.”

“I thought it was found in the Labyrinth,” Lucan said.

She huffed. “Perhaps that is true too. No one truly knows. Much is said about the sphere, yet only one thing is for certain, it is priceless.”

“Indeed.”

She sighed as they continued watching the sphere spin upon itself, its speed climbing, so much that Lucan worried it would burst apart. He shifted his eyes from it to the princess again, still replaceing her demeanor peculiar.

“This will take a while if what I was told is true,” the princess said. Her eyes suddenly found his again, catching him as he watched her. “Perhaps you have questions?”

Lucan hesitated.

“Go on,” she said, giving him a light smile. “It will keep me entertained.”

Lucan inadvertently shrugged, going with something safe. “What is it like living in the Royal Palace?”

His words elicited a long-suffering sigh from the princess. “Now you’re simply trying to bore me to death. I say you can ask me anything, and something duller than what comes out of my suitors’ mouths comes out of yours.”

Lucan pressed his lips, unsure what she wanted particularly. He certainly had pointier questions, but would she be as gracious as she claimed to be when he asked them? Well, she’d asked–no–demanded it. And she’d brought up something that many in the Kingdom pondered upon. “Your Highness,” he said. “You are nearly twenty years of age–”

“And you are nearly seventeen yourself,” she interrupted him.

His countenance changed, surprised. “You know about me?”

She covered her mouth and laughed, as though she’d seen the most amusing thing. “I know about Sir Zesh, and his only son. I know when that son was born. But no, I don’t know about you.”

“Oh.” He flushed, embarrassment overwhelming him. For a moment, he’d thought that she’d heard about him. Suppressing the feeling, he continued, for it was the best way to bypass the discomfort. “Is it true that you are not married yet because no man with enough valor has come forward to claim your hand?”

The princess laughed again, this time for long enough that her chuckles echoed like pleasant bells to his ears. “No, it isn’t true.” She dared him with her eyes to continue with this line of questions.

He did. She’d given him leave to do so, after all. “Then why?”

“I simply haven’t found someone I can trust enough with my fate,” she said. A sound came from Lucan’s right. The princess suddenly turned towards the sphere. “Ah, it seems that it is finally beginning.”

Lucan turned towards the artifact too. Then he saw something more wondrous than the presence sphere itself happen. Specks of light flew out of it like fireflies, coalescing together to take the form of something…

He turned to the princess, but surprisingly the fog had thickened and he could no longer see her.

Once his eyes returned to the forming shape again, he began to recognize the silhouette of an individual. A blinding flash suddenly burst out of the shape, impairing Lucan’s vision. Once the shine faded out of his eyes, he saw a man standing in front of the sphere.

Lucan was so taken aback that he failed to speak or demand an explanation.

The man beat him to it, raising a hand. “Greetings.”

Lucan didn’t return the greeting, scrutinizing the man instead. Everything about him was perplexing. His hair was a deep shade of purple, and his skin was so white that one would think he was born sick. He wore plain clothes, but on his hands and cheeks, there was azure paint, arrows pointing downwards, and unintelligible runes.

The man lowered his hands once Lucan failed to respond, walking towards the table and taking a seat.

Meanwhile, Lucan watched incredulously. Soon, the man gestured towards him then towards the empty seat opposing him.

Lucan finally realized that he must be the spirit of the Trial. He’d imagined that the spirit would be something detached, guiding him through the demands of the Trial. He’d never thought of it in depth, but he’d never imagined it would be a man either. He wondered if he was real.

Eventually, Lucan complied with the gesture of the spirit, fearing that he would irritate it and get expelled. He approached the table cautiously and slowly, very slowly, he took a seat in front of the spirit in man’s form.

“Your name?” the man asked.

“Lucan,” he answered through a hoarse throat. “And yours?”

“It’s not important,” the man said, his tone soft, slow, and calming.

Lucan nodded. But scrutinized the spirit, trying to see if there was something unreal about its presence. “Are you truly a man?”

The man chuckled, showing teeth as white as his skin. “That depends.”

“Upon what?”

“It’s not important,” the man said.

Lucan raised a brow. This was already feeling very odd. He stayed silent, hoping the spirit would continue, but it, or he, didn’t. “Should we not begin?”

The man sighed. “I thought I would wither and die before you asked. Yes, we shall begin. But what should we begin with?” he asked himself, resting his chin on his hand. “Perhaps arithmetic. They did always love it.”

Lucan tilted his head, still perplexed by the whole demeanor of the spirit. But he caught onto one thing. “They?” he asked. “Who?”

The man gave him an amused look, as though watching a dog chase its tail.

Lucan rolled his eyes. “It’s not important, I imagine?” He reproduced the first part to sound like the spirit.

“Precisely,” the man said as he flicked his fingers in a loud gesture.

“What’s the Trial then? And why are most accounts of it conflicting?”

The man chuckled, that twinkle of amusement permanent in his eyes, and a bit infuriating to Lucan. “It’s simple. The Trial is a riddle.”

“Well, I suppose we should begin this riddle then?”

“Yes,” the man said. “Arithmetic first then.”

Lucan raised a brow again. “Can’t we begin with the real Trial right away?”

This time the man’s laughter was explosive, as though he’d heard the most humorous jest in his life. “Oh dear,” he said between bouts of laughter. “The Trial is everything, and everything is the trial, dear Lucan. Though, if you wish, we may bypass your first test. But you will miss your opportunity to earn this.” He upturned a hand. Then the paint on the back of his hands and face began glowing softly, and a reddish hue began to take to the air above his palm. Soon enough, an orb of red essence was floating above his hand.

Once the orb formed, Lucan failed to look anywhere but at it. He didn’t just see it, he felt it in his very being, in his Blessing. “Is that…a Vital Orb?”

The man grinned and nodded, his actions only caught through the corner of Lucan’s eyes which were still fixed on the Orb. “Shall we begin?”

Lucan nodded intensely, bracing himself for whatever it was that would be thrown at him. A Vital Orb. The spirit could gift it like it was nothing, as though it could simply be conjured from emptiness. Madness. He’d never known that there was a way to gain Vital Orbs outside of leveling up or consuming God Orbs. Some of the accounts he’d read of the Trial had hinted at something like this, but Lucan had assumed the meaning to be that they’d earned the Orbs through leveling up in the Trial.

His attention was soon attracted to the man’s face as the latter retracted the red Orb back into wherever he’d conjured it from.

His voice soon came neutral and flat, unlike his previous cheery tone. “There once was a tamer, who would only raise certain beasts; wolves, tigers, and bears. In fact, his animals were all wolves bar three, all tigers bar four, all bears bar five. May you tell me how many of each there are?”

Lucan was stumped for a moment, replaceing it incredulous that the vaunted Trial would be about this. But the lure of the blood-red Orb forced his mind into action. In a way, it was simple, if mind-twisting. All wolves bar three, so there are either two tigers and one bear or two bears and one tiger. Either way, no more than two of either.

All tigers bar four, so four between wolves and bears. I already know that there can’t be more than two bears, so there are at least two wolves; either that or three at most, if there’s only one bear.

All bears bar five, so between the wolves and tigers, there are five. But at most there can only be two tigers, and at most there can only be three wolves, meaning that those were their numbers, since that was the only instance in which there would be five animals aside from the bears. And since there were three wolves, then there must only be one bear.

He thought over the riddle and his answer one more time before being assured and mouthing it. “Three wolves, two tigers, and one bear.”

“Ah!” the man exclaimed. “Right on the mark, my young friend. Right on the mark.” He tapped the table. “Shall we push on to the next one then?”

Lucan looked at the man, aggrieved, but he held himself back from snapping.

“Of course, not without imparting your reward first,” the man chuckled. Putting his upturned hand forward. Soon, the Vital Orb was conjured once more. “Go on, take it.”

Lucan reached for the Orb cautiously but eagerly. His fingers crept closer and closer, until they brushed up against the red glow and he felt something hot and fluid flowing through his hand and his arm, and then a sudden jolt went through his whole body.

You have been gifted a Vital Orb.

Lucan stole a glance at his Blessing’s manifestation to affirm the gain, before quickly dismissing it. The new Orb was there, added to his already existing five.

One simple question answered had given him a Vital Orb. Something that would cost at least a hundred gold if purchased with coin in the form of a consumable God Orb, and only when on the market and presented for sale. This Trial was already proving to be as invaluable as was rumored.

“On to our next three riddles then,” the man said. He tapped on the table and glowing dust was conjured out of nothing, quickly coalescing into a board and pieces. Chess. That was promising. Even though he wasn’t a prodigy in the game, he liked it enough. Perhaps another Vital Orb awaited him at the end of this? But…

“Three riddles?” Lucan asked. “Do I get an Orb for each?”

“No, no. For this, you must answer three to be given one. But worry not, it shouldn’t be difficult.”

Lucan nodded in anticipation, watching the board intently. Suddenly, the pieces began to move on their own. Some of them hopped off the board and some took advanced positions as though two players had paused in the middle of their game.

“As you can see, this is quite the balanced position,” the man said. “Now kill the King.”

The words jolted Lucan out of his thoughts, making him steal glances around himself in panic. “Please mind your words,” he pleaded.

“You needn’t worry, young Lucan,” the man said, chuckling again. “No one can hear us here. Now kill the King. Four moves, no more, no less.”

Lucan nodded, though his neck was stiff as he did so, hesitation still having a hold on him. The spirit spoke such incriminating words without care, but if someone were to pay dearly for them, it would be him. And the princess herself was within earshot of them. Hopefully, the spirit spoke true, and neither she nor anyone could hear them conversing while they were here.

He scrutinized the board, trying to replace weakness in his opponent’s position. At first, he could only see weakness in his own, but it soon became clear that a sacrifice was necessary. He reached over the table, looking at the spirit in the form of a man for permission, and the latter gave it. He then began moving the pieces. First, he sacrificed his Elephant to crack open the guard of the King, killing a pawn. The opponent would now either greedily take his sacrifice, consigning themselves to a quick death, or avoid it and suffer a slow one. Either way, the next moves were mostly the same. He moved in with his Vizier and Horse for the kill, and he got it.

“The next one then,” the man said, gesturing at the board, upon which the pieces rearranged themselves into another position, much more open than the last one. The Towers were already vying for the columns in the middle of the board, but his opponent appeared to be in a better position than him. “Cripple your opponent.”

Lucan nodded. It took him a while longer this time, but he eventually realized that his opponent’s second most threatening piece, a Tower that was dominating an important position, was in fact stuck in place to defend an apparently fine but actually smothered King. That allowed Lucan to forcefully capture the other side’s Vizier with his own without the retaliation of the Tower to equalize the field. A crippling strike.

“Good,” the man said. “Next.”

Lucan eyed the new position with more confidence, and was soon rewarded for it as he spotted a weakness again. This time the spirit didn’t have to tell him what needed to be done. It was obvious after a while that the enemy King could be killed. Lucan assaulted his imaginary opponent, taking advantage of his more advanced and properly positioned pieces, and eventually overwhelming the enemy’s defense.

As Lucan finished the King, the man once again reached an upturned hand forward, though the board stayed present below. Then he conjured another Vital Orb, and this time Lucan reached for it hastily, as though it would disappear if left unclaimed.

You have been gifted a Vital Orb.

He grinned in satisfaction as the pieces began rearranging themselves on the board again. He looked askance at the man who shrugged. “Win.”

Lucan bobbed his head and focused on the board once more. Yet this time, he found no weakness, no opening, no opportunity. There were only locked doors and false chances. No matter how he thought of it, there was no solution.

After a while, the man’s voice interrupted his knotting thoughts. “Your time has come to an end.”

Lucan’s head snapped up so he could look him in the eye. “I didn’t know there was time! You didn’t tell me.”

“Precisely!” the man guffawed. “Now, onto the next one.”

Lucan grit his teeth and set himself in for a, now, more pressuring challenge.

And as expected, the positions didn’t get any easier, rather they got more difficult, and Lucan couldn’t replace any more luck.

It had been somewhat entertaining to crack open the riddles of the spirit and be rewarded for it. But it was, without a doubt, a miserable feeling to replace himself lacking in the latest ones. Hopefully, there was more to this Trial than damn chess.