Zhuul was not only missing his feet, but also his manners. He spat a ball of saliva in my direction, but it failed to go the distance. I stood several yards away in the warmth of his comrade's entrails, wiggling my toes, hoping to regain some sense of feeling.

  The coat I had secured was multilayered and heavy, which didn't matter considering all my body heat was seeping out through the soles of my feet.

  "Where are we?"

  Zhuul lay with his back against the white bark of a pine adjacent a species of tree, featuring a ginormous trunk and rows of grey fascicles. I couldn't tell if his face was pale from the blood loss or if every frost orc shared the same complexion as a whiteboard.

  "You can die fast or painfully."

  "I'm already dying painfully, dumb human."

  I pulled the fur trim along the coat's collar tight against my cheeks and buried my trembling hands underneath its cover. The blood on my feet already ran cold.

  "Fine, die alone in the cold in silence. Though, where you're going you'll have plenty of that."

  Zhuul turned his nose up at me, while I turned my attention to the gear belonging to whoever's insides I was using as slippers. I found a skirmish bag tied around the top half of the orc's severed torso and picked it up.

  "I'm on my way to Gruk'thar's Embrace, following in my brethren's steps. A warrior's death begets a warrior's reward of endless feasts, fair maidens, and glory."

  "Is that so? I died once. Nobody embraced me. " I unfurled the bag made of animal skin, revealing two red vials, and a flask carved out of bone, sealed with a tin cap that was warm to the touch. "And I don't know about the feasts and maidens."

  I flipped over half of the corpse, discovering a spliced open rucksack on his back and pulled a wool blanket out. Wasting no time, I sat down atop the corpse across from Zhuul and dried off my frostbitten feet.

  "You lie, human."

  "It's only going to grow quieter. Enjoy your senses while you still have them."

  After drying my feet, I took a knife from the supply pack and carved several strips out of the blanket, and wrapped my feet tight before stealing the dead' orc's boots, which may as well have been clown shoes. With a little ingenuity, I secured the boots with loose leather straps around the bottom of my legs.

  "Trust me, if death were paradise our primal instincts wouldn't fight so goddamn hard to avoid it."

  "Shut up, fool human."

  "Our subconscious is wired for survival because it knows the abyss lurks at the end of it all."

  The frost orc slammed his fist into the snow, steam seething out through crooked teeth. "Only human fear death."

  "No shit?"

  "No, we do not shit. It is forbidden until after the trial ends."

  "Aha, so you know this is a trial," I said as I unscrewed the lid from the bone thermos.

  Citrus, floral scents filled my nostrils before the piping hot liquid hit the back of my throat, and warmed my belly.

  "Damn, this is good. Warms the soul right up." I tipped the thermos in Zhuul's direction.

  The frost orc craned his head back against the tree, breathing slowed, waning adrenaline replaced with the agonizing reality of his body's condition. He shifted in pain, watching as I used his comrade's corpse like a beanbag chair, rifling through his belongings while I enjoyed a nice hot beverage.

  I took another sip, set the toasty thermos in my lap, and tore into what looked like fish jerky wrapped in paper. "Tell me where we are and I'll share a piece."

  "Like us, you turned the key."

  "I didn't touch the key. Someone else did, a portal appeared, sucked me in, and spat me out in the sky," I said.

  The orc smirked. "Entering through a cursed god's gate means Gruk'thar views human unworthy. Hail Gruk'thar!"

  "I wonder how your god looks upon those defeated by an unworthy human. Doesn't sound like he'll welcome you with a warm embrace and a peck on the cheek," I said. "You did lose a 5v1."

  Zhuul hawked another glob of saliva, once again coming up short.

  "Hear that Gruk'thar?" I shouted into the sky. "Zhuul spits on your name!"

  "Huh—no, human liar!"

  "Hear that Gruk'thar, Zhuul says fuck your face!"

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  "Stop!" he screamed.

  "Gruk'thar strike me down this instant or you're a pussy god!" I yelled atop my lungs while Zhuul tried cancelling me out with his screams.

  I took another sip of the blistering hot, milky citrus tea while the orc's fake god did nothing, its inaction drawing Zhuul into a mid-death existential crisis.

  "You're definitely going to the abyss."

  "Dumb human, damned us both."

  Zhuul stared up into the canopy, gaze fixed with sorrow. I tossed the thermos at his side. "Since you're damned, it can't hurt to start talking? Like I promised, I'll even share the fish."

  ***

  Zhuul died from blood loss with a belly full of fish jerky and strange milky citrus tea that I was pretty certain contained alcohol. Before he passed, granting +335 XP and +55 Karma, we talked for the better part of an hour.

  He told me about the unpronounceable realm he came from. I zoned out during most of the boring details, only finding interest when he spoke on this challenge scenario, which Zhuul referred to as an Astral Crucible.

  In frost orc tradition, participating in the crucible served as a rite of passage, marking the final trial before one could claim the title of warrior. Two warbands of orcs entered the trial. According to Zhuul, the remaining warband would "rip my guts out through my ass." When I brought those logistics into question, he passed, leaving me alone in the middle of the frigid cosmic arena.

  Most importantly, our chat confirmed the only thing that currently mattered was completing the scenario and whatever tasks it presented to return to Gadika.

  With Zhuul gone, I went to work emptying out all of the orc's supplies into a pile on top of a blanket. Their inventory consisted of rations, unlabeled vials filled with multi-colored liquids, flint and tinder, and rudimentary first aid kits. I helped myself to a bit of everything, stashing it away in a skirmish satchel that I slung over my shoulder.

  My final chore consisted of trimming down a very loose fitting pair of pants and poncho-like shirt to wear underneath the bulky coat. I worried about the Soul Viper trio, hoping and praying for their safety.

  "Please, Justice. If you're listening, don't let them get off easy. Please guide them, allowing safe passage until we next meet, amen."

  I almost finished with the sign of the cross out of habit, stopping myself, doubtful she'd even get my message. I knew I had asked Justice for more time during our last meeting over a week ago, before everything spiraled out of control when I came into possession of a chaos shard.

  Are you even listening? A little guidance would be nice.

  "Got anything for me?" I said, looking up at the grey sky between the gaps in the canopy. "Moses got a burning bush. I'll settle for a divine sticky-note."

  My request went unanswered and I shifted focus back on the scenario.

  Survive the night.

  The nondescript objective fueled speculation. I expected everything from spell flinging zombies to laser rifle equipped dinosaurs parachuting from the sky. I planned on lying in wait until night before giving chase to those Soul Viper bastards. Outside of the woods the brazen sunlight and the snow reflecting it neutered Shadow Weave's usefulness.

  Soul Viper's unrelenting intrusions irked me beyond reason and mercy. I recalled the pure hatred oozing from Whitcomb as he killed Gideon and possibly Celina. I never saw her status fade, but who knew if she or the others made it after I passed out. Either way, I'd take my pounds of flesh.

  My newly acquired garments smelled of garlicky body odor, but braced me from the harsh elements as I climbed into a tree and sought refuge on a large branch with my back against the trunk. Stamina regenerated bit by bit over the hours until the sun set and I felt fully recovered.

  Darkness drenched the forest and flooded the rolling hills in the distance, light sucked away in the horizon. Alone, and settled in silence, I figured now was the perfect time to break Void Seer out of its shiny new plastic.

  I took in a deep breath, closed my eyes and muttered the unfamiliar incantation. "Void Seer."

  I disconnected from my body for a split second, cancelling the channeled ability right away as I nearly fell out of the tree, totally discombobulated. It invoked the same sensation as lying in bed, seconds away from falling asleep when your body suddenly decides you're actually falling off your bike, rudely distorting your sense of balance and shocking you awake.

  Let's try that again.

  "Void Seer."

  The connection between mind and body severed as I became the darkness. My vision warped, field of view cracking open as I flew higher into the treetops. I saw myself conked out with my head resting back against the tree, eyes half-shut, pupils rapidly moving beneath my eyelids.

  I floated outward and upward leaving my body behind, swiftly gliding out from underneath the canopy, and into the empty night sky. I took in the vast view of the tundra. No moon, no stars shone overhead.

  Testing the ability's speed, I zipped up into the sky, weightless, and disorienting. I slowed myself before it could even reach its potential top speed.

  Like a drone, I hovered in the night sky, peering over the snowy hills the trio had trekked over hours ago. I spotted another patch of forestry beyond the hills. Concentrating on maximizing Void Seer's speed, I flew at an uncomfortable pace, tearing across the sky until the connection abruptly severed.

  I snapped back to my body, leaned over the side of the branch and puked up half digested fish jerky. Reeling from a combination of motion sickness and the jarring sensation of regaining my senses, I steadied myself on the branch, taking a few deep breaths.

  That's intense.

  Yet, I was eager to try again. As the nausea subsided, I noticed the stamina cost was almost non-existent. It was no more exerting than sitting on the couch and watching TV.

  "Void Seer."

  My gaze popped off through the trees once more, soaring out of the forest and over the icy hills. This time I maintained a steady speed as I swooped down across the tundra. My vision effortlessly shifted through the shadows until I saw smoke and the flicker of flames deep within the picturesque winter wonderland.

  It only took mere moments to eliminate the distance. A bonfire crackled in the center of a dug out clearing.

  I can hear it.

  Karma's Gaze pinged the Soul Viper trio as they sat across from each other, huddled with their hands out over the fire.

  Sticking to the shadows, I seeped down from the canopy, sliding down a tree beside their clearing. Finally, I affixed my vision between a grey bundle of pine needles, watching them from only a few feet away.

  Whitcomb's teeth chattered as he glared at Nyx.

  "Handler..." he said.

  Nyx sighed. "I never gave you permission to speak."

  "Where are we?"

  "Whitcomb, follow procedure," Khaled said.

  Nyx stared past them, her eyes flitting over the tree I was lurking in. Her gaze held fast and I thought my surveillance was blown. Then she turned her eyes down to the fire.

  "And what's the procedure for this, comrade? I see no moons, no stars. I hear no wind and sense no life. I'm not even certain these trees are organic. Can you sense any mana in their roots?"

  "No," Khaled said.

  "We must survive the night," Nyx said, finally breaking her silence.

  Both men turned their heads, silent as they eagerly awaited more detail.

  "I saw a message written in the sky by the gods."