From a shadowed chamber, Thalso observed the candidates through a mirror identical to the one in Kaedros’s room.
"Pathetic," he muttered. "They are not used to long training. They’re worse than we thought. What’s all of this?"
Chef sneered. "And they dare think they’re ready to open the Trial Doors?"
"Don’t you find it interesting?" Nyra purred from her place on the floor, where she lounged like a content predator. Her green eyes gleamed. "Two humans... and a Dragon. I can’t wait to see what unfolds in the coming years. To think it’ll be that Dragon!"
"You love chaos too much Nyra," Chef snapped.
"And you don’t?" Nyra stretched like a cat that she was. "We’ve been here too long. You’ve forgotten how exhilarating the outside world used to be."
Chef’s lips curled into a grin. "Maybe. Maybe they’ll spark chaos, no, they will. But only if they survive Throne of Ruinlight."
Nyra grunted. "Are you really going to do this the old way, Thalso? Training warriors went out of fashion centuries ago."
Thalso clenched a fist. "If they’re to have any chance, they must be forged in something hotter than fire. If they die, better now than when everything is riding on them."
"Their being here already means everything is riding on them," Chef said.
"True," Thalso replied simply.
They stayed that way for a long time, whether minutes or hours, they couldn’t tell. Hunger and exhaustion blurred their sense of time, numbing everything.
Kaedros opened his eyes just as a dagger came plunging down. He rolled instinctively, adrenaline cutting through the fatigue. His body collided with Rauk, who cursed and snapped upright, his own eyes widening at the danger.
The shadows were back.
And this time, something was different.
"Not this again," Taria murmured, her voice thick with dread as the shadow before them flipped its dagger in a casual spin.
It was only one this time. But it was unlike the others.
This shadow had form, its skin was made of hardened, gleaming darkness, wrapped around corded muscle like a living statue of night. A hood covered its face, but its gaze was unmistakable, malice so sharp they could feel it pin them in place.
Kaedros cursed inwardly. He had forgotten to grab his sword in the scramble. He moved behind Rauk, who stood ready, both hands gripping his longsword, eyes narrowed at the shadow.
Taria tried to maneuver around, but the beds hemmed her in. She leveled her spear instead, relying on its reach. But one look at the way the shadow carried itself told her, this one knew how to fight. It could get inside her guard easily.
Then the shadow moved.
Or rather, it didn’t. It stepped from one shadow to another, crossing the room in an instant.
Suddenly, it was in front of Rauk.
Rauk couldn’t react in time. The shadow was already within his reach, no space to swing his heavy blade.
Kaedros didn’t hesitate. He hooked an arm around Rauk’s neck and yanked him back, just in time to dodge the dagger’s fatal arc.
He followed up with a horizontal slash, trying to cleave the shadow in half like the others before.
But this shadow wasn’t like the others.
It batted the blade aside with a sharp strike of its dagger.
Rauk stumbled from the impact, eyes wide. He hadn’t expected that kind of power. The shadow pressed in and drove a gleaming dagger into Rauk’s neck.
The blade dissolved into his flesh, and Rauk staggered back, confused. His hand brushed the spot...dry. The only mark was a spreading dark patch.
Maybe it’s just an illusion, Kaedros thought. Maybe it’s practice...
Then Rauk’s eyes widened. His whole body locked up. His pale eyes rolled back....and he screamed.
He collapsed to the floor, convulsing. His hands clenched and unclenched, his sword clattering away. The scream had been raw, stripped of anything human. Kaedros had never heard pain like that.
"Shit," he whispered.
"Watch out!" Taria shouted.
He had made a mistake.
He had taken his eyes off the enemy.
The shadow’s second dagger was already coming.
Even Taria’s warning shout came too late.
The dagger sank into Kaedros’s chest.
He stared at it in stunned silence as it dissolved into his flesh.
He couldn’t see the creature’s face, but somehow... he knew it was smirking.
The first sensation was cold, like ice flooding his veins.
Then the ice became fire.
Kaedros opened his mouth to scream, but he couldn’t tell if he made a sound. The pain ripped through him, a torrent of agony that sent him into spasms on the floor.
It felt like thousands of white-hot needles were being jammed into his body, one at a time, slowly, until his lungs refused to draw air. His skin itched, his muscles screamed, but his body refused to obey.
His spine arched as his mouth hung open, spit dribbling from his lips. Brown sweat poured from him like a river. He wanted it to end.
His head slammed against the ground repeatedly as his body convulsed under the weight of the pain.
"T–Kaedros?" Taria whispered, watching the one she trusted most, the one she looked up to, writhe on the floor.
Her grip tightened around her spear.
Her voice turned to a blade.
"You will pay for this." just as a dagger slammed into her as well.
The three lay there, whimpering as pain turned their bodies from stiffened meat to soft pulp and back again. The agony was their new prison. Their hunger was long forgotten.
Kaedros twitched first. A hand tapped the floor. His eyes peeled open, barely.
He was lying on his back. The candles still burned dimly, unchanged.
The pain had dulled, but his limbs felt like lead. Poison, he thought. The dagger was poison.
Or worse. maybe the dagger itself was the poison.
He tried to grit his teeth. Pain stabbed through his skull.
"This... feels... like... hell," Rauk whispered. He lay face-down, dried tears and snot crusted on his cheeks.
Kaedros didn’t answer. Moving risked waking the agony again. Then a new scent crept into his nose, the start of decay.
"This... is more than hell," Taria groaned, her voice raw. Her gray eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I thought I would die."
None of them replied.
Because they all had.
Only the sound of strained, broken breathing filled the room.
Then the shadows came again.
Silent. Gliding. Holding daggers that devoured the candlelight.
"No..." Kaedros rasped as a dagger plunged toward his chest.
Pain exploded again. His body convulsed. He screamed.
The others did too, their cries mixing into one horrible sound as the blades stabbed into them once more.
It felt like their flesh had been peeled open and hot wires, dipped in acid, were used to sew their skin back.