"This is a bad idea. The last fight almost killed me, and this challenge is going to be harder."
"Yes, but I don't think this is a fight. The sign is a square, not a fist."
"True, but why are we rushing? We already completed one trial, so we still have thirty days to do another six."
"Are you sure about that? I've been thinking. Clearing seven challenges in thirty-three days seems too...easy. We're missing something, and I need to figure out what."
Seth rubbed his temples. He didn't know about it being too easy. They had barely survived the last room, after all. Then again, Therus knew more about these kinds of things than he did. Up until recently, Seth would have dismissed all of this as simply impossible. Still, the thought of going through the door to enter the trial made his knees feel weak.
"If I were to bow out of this, you'd just come back by yourself, right?" Seth knew what the answer was. He just needed to hear it.
"Yes. I appreciate all the help, but..."
"Then let's do this." Seth forced a confident smile. It felt wrong to push his friend to go alone at this stage. Therus' smile told Seth he made the right decision. Pushing open the door, they entered their second trial.
The room was the size of a large gymnasium. Looking up, the ceiling was at least two hundred feet above them. In the center of the room was a large circle on the floor made of flowing inscriptions glowing a pale, ghostly blue. Along the edges of the room were waist-high tables of stone. Some held dusty tomes, while others held bowls, beakers, and flasks of various materials. Seth recognized some of the materials from the tomes in the trial library. If he was right, they would be binding spirits.
During his research, he had learned that sorcerers derived their power from binding spirits. The binding rituals took a significant amount of preparation, and needed to be precise. A large mistake, and the ritual would simply fail. A minor mistake, and the spirit would break their control. This loss of control was universally harmful, and often fatal. Seth had a sinking feeling he wouldn't have as much time as he would have liked to make this work. He had no idea what kind of spirit they would need to bind.
The first hint of spirits was a faint wailing, so quiet he thought he was imagining things. That was accompanied by a gentle breeze that carried a variety of floral scents. A couple of humanoid spirits lazily floated in a circle at the top of the room, glowing green with open mouths and ruby eyes. Rushing to one of the tables, he flung open a book. It was a reference book of spirits, with how to identify the spirit, mana affinities, and warnings. Flipping through, he found the entry on wailing specters. The identification matched the signs he was seeing. Thankfully, they weren't dangerous in small numbers.
The wailing became painfully loud, causing Seth to look up. What began as a few spirits had now multiplied to a few thousand ever so slowly descending. Seth opened another book; a reference for performing actual binding rituals. Seth dashed toward one of the tables that had supplies. He pulled a white crystaline powder, incense sticks, chalk, and a gem off the table.
"Wailing specters," Seth shouted, rushing to an edge of the circle, materials and reference in hand. He drew a test line with the chalk. The chalk stuck to the floor inside the circle, but stopped drawing as soon as he left the circle. He backed up to a point halfway between the edge and the center of the circle, and began drawing his ritual. To the side, he thought he heard Therus begin to work, though it was almost drowned out by the wailing.
Seth looked up as he finished. The ghosts were halfway down from the ceiling. He looked over at Therus. Another thirty seconds until he finished. Seth tried to the ritual. Nothing happened. He double checked the lines. Those were fine. The powder was in the right spots. As was the gem. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, and took a deep breath.
Out of ideas, he activated his qi sight. Thankfully, it didn't overwhelm him like it had outside the temple. Looking at the qi, he finally saw the problem. The ritual was trying to draw in qi in a certain way, but the natural qi wasn't cooperating, causing it to flow unevenly through the ritual. Biting his knuckle, he scrambled to think of a solution. The spirits were a quarter of the way down. He didn't have the confidence to directly manipulate the ritual; that might get him killed. Therus cursed out loud, also having issues. He checked the space between the rituals and the circles edge. There may just be enough for his idea to work.
He started constructing an array around the ritual circle. If he needed it to actually do anything, he would have been in trouble. But all he needed it to do was change the flow of qi. A trick that Elise had introduced him to for dealing with ambient qi changes quickly.
"Therus, you having trouble too?" Seth didn't stop working. He could feel the spirits pressing down, almost on top of them.
"Yeah. You have any ideas?"
"Start copying what I'm doing around your ritual. I'll come over and finish once I'm done."
Seth could no longer stand straight up by the time he finished his own ritual. He didn't activate it yet. Instead, he crawled under the descending spirits to Therus' ritual. The ritual itself was perfect, and the adjusting array was very good, only needing a couple of minor tweaks. By the time Seth drew the last array lines, he was lying flat on the floor, the spirits breathing down their necks. Seth nodded, and low-crawled back to his ritual, activating it as soon as he could.
Stolen novel; please report.
A sense of connection flowed into his soul. That connection turned into an aggressive beast, tearing at him. The books had warned about this. Spirits didn't like being bound much. Refusing to back down, he kept the ritual up while fighting off the spiritual attack. He wasn't sure whether it was determination, or fear of joining that screaming river that kept him going through the soul shattering pain.
The pain ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving only him and the newly-bound spirit gem in the middle of his ritual. Grabbing the gem, it was warm to the touch, but otherwise looked ordinary. The strange pressure was also gone. And the wailing. Still, Seth didn't dare stand up for a few seconds.
Seth's legs felt like rubber as he fought to stand. Therus was still kneeling, a half smile on his face. Seth looked around. There still wasn't an exit. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. A faint beat started to pulse through the floor and walls. Seth looked around. There was nothing save the materials, and Therus. The beat grew. And grew, until it rattled Seth's bones. A ghostly figure emerged from the top of the room. A red spectral horse with a rider started lazily circling around the ceiling. The rider carried a sword in one hand; a banner in another. The beating doubled as another came in. Then another. And another.
Not waiting for more, Seth dashed to the tables. Pulling open the tome, he searched for it. And searched. It wasn't there. He double checked. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His hands shook. He triple checked. It still wasn't there.
"They're Par'xihit," yelled Therus. Somehow, he wasn't completely drowned out under the thundering hooves.
Seth ran over to Therus' table. The tome was open to the binding instructions. Three pages of instructions. Materials were mostly the same. This one needed a bound spirit to power the binding ritual. Lovely. Seth drew the adjusting array Therus would need at the end of the instructions. A shockwave rippled through the room, sending Seth and Therus to their knees. He looked up. The horsemen were descending.
Both Seth and Therus scrambled to start their rituals. Every wave of force from the horsemen's hooves tested their control. A wave of force caused his arm to shift, breaking a line. Erase and redraw. His world became a rhythm of push and correct, each push getting harder, and each correction taking longer. Eventually, he finished both his circle and the required adjustment array. He tentatively put power into the circle, and immediately stopped. Something felt off.
Checking his ritual circle, one of his lines had been broken. A rock had fallen down, breaking a line in the center of his circle. He cursed as he danced through the circle, chalk in hand. He could hear Therus' circle activating. He fixed the broken line and threw the offending rock out of the circle. He almost jumped back, but in the corner of his vision he saw a spectral hoof landing an inch above his head. Crouching, he fought to make his way out of the circle. Therus had also started crouching. His eyes were closed and his ritual was glowing, his face screwed up in concentration.
As Seth reached the outer edge of his circle, he slammed his hand down and activated the ritual. A strong will clawed at his own, fighting for control. It tore at his mind and soul, but Seth held fast. He could feel his body be pounded by waves of force, but ignored those. Eventually, he could feel the Par'xihit losing ground. Then losing some more, until its will shattered with a scream. Seth opened his eyes. The spirits were gone. Therus stood there, a tired but triumphant smile on his face.
The other end of the room now contained an inky portal to what Seth hoped was their reward. Seth walked as quickly as his legs would take him. Therus kept pace. On the other side of their room was a collection of scrolls, rings, swords, and other oddities grouped in lose piles. An unseen hand lazily wrote on the wall in glowing gold lettering.
To the victors go the spoils, a prize.
Some are treasure, and others are lies.
One prize per victor, not more nor less.
To be chosen before five turns pass.
If beyond five turns you do remain.
Your flesh and bones will not leave again.
Choose wisely, oh victorious friend.
Do not falter here, right at the end.
On the other end of the room, a portal appeared. Above the portal hung a skeletal arm pointed straight up. A tick, and it shifted clockwise. Another tick brought another shift. Seth activated his qi sight. Most of the items were normal. Therus dashed toward one of the piles. Seth went to another.
None of the items with qi were at the top of the piles. Digging and verifying, he scrambled. By one turn, he had four candidate items. By two, he had seven. One more, and he had ten candidates. The most interesting were two scrolls that had immense qi. Trying to open them, it was like trying to open a steel rod. There was also a knife that held a surprising amount of qi. He also liked the serrated katar he found. Choices, choices.
He took a couple of practice jabs with the katar. It felt great. Much better than the small knife had. He missed having a blade. If it could be hidden, it would be perfect. It would have been useful in a fight. That would be a good reward, right?
The fourth turn had passed. Part of him desperately wanted the katar, but part of him couldn't shake the feeling he was missing something. He wondered how the katar compared with the Par'xihit gem he had, and tried channeling qi through the gem. As he did, his sight changed. All of his items went from brightly glowing to dark. Looking around, there were four items glowing in the room. Therus already had one. With half a turn left, Seth dashed toward the nearest pile with a glowing item. Digging through the large pile, he found the marked item. Dashing toward the exit, he crossed the threshold with a tenth of a turn remaining.
The room he found himself in was a dimly lit stone closet with no exits. Seth tried to speak, but no sound came out. He looked to his left and right. He was alone. Three breaths later, the unseen hand started writing, in neon green this time.
"Well done in conquering a peak. You will be taken to your prize."
The closet transformed into a vast purple expanse. There were no floors. No ceilings. Just endless purple. He raised his hand. Good, it was still there. He tried kicking his legs. It was just as ineffective as he feared.
A vast pressure filled the expanse. Two silver slits formed in the void. Those slits opened to reveal two disembodied eyes. A shimmering silver sclera containing a swirling blue thunderstorm that were the irises. Seth was both terrified and entranced. He tried to close his eyes, but was powerless to even do that. He could feel ice flowing through his veins, and bile clawing up his throat.
"To think, one of our potential inheritors would be a cultivator. How delightful." The deep contralto voice shook the void, along with every atom in Seth's body. The throaty chuckle that followed was anything but comforting. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. He could only pray for his survival.