by T. C. Edge
A noise sounds behind me, footsteps echoing inside. I turn, my eyes hurting with the pouring sunlight, to find the Overseer heading our way. I watch him, hardly able to blink, my mind filled with a memory that isn't my own. A memory from many decades ago.
The sight of my grandmother, as a young girl, standing where I am now.
Being selected as the Chosen.
I hardly slept having seen the vision, my journey to the dorm-chambers a blur. I don't remember travelling down those stairs, taking off my robes, getting into bed. I don't remember much at all, my mind accosted by a vision of the past, playing over and over before my eyes.
Now, exhausted, my muscles aching from the previous day's exertions, I stand and look at the Overseer once more. He looks older, certainly, than he did in the vision, but not by the six or so decades it's been. Can he really be that old? He looks only middle-aged, yet must surely be far older.
It is of minor concern, others of a far greater significance looming in my head like terrible spectres.
My grandmother. The first Chosen Fire-Blood.
Is it true? Can it be true?
I trace back into the past, trying to seek answers, searching through the clues that float around across the many years of memories. For so long she spoke out against the Children of the Prime, telling me of their true origin. For so long she displayed her bitterness towards them without truly explaining why. For so long she remained murky on the subject, never revealing the full truth, always keeping it for herself.
The lies...
How many has she spoken to me? Only recently did I discover her true heritage as a Fire-Blood, the fact that she'd once lived in Olympus. She spoke of the city as a place of wonders and horrors combined. I wonder, now, just what she meant. I wonder so many things.
Lies, so many lies...
I feel sick just to think of it, of the years of mistruths and misdirection. And ahead, right before me now, I find the man with the answers. The man who was there at the start, who guided my grandmother just as he is me. The man, I know, who is behind this reveal. I look at him now, and see the spark in his eyes.
He knows. He always seems to know.
"I hope you all slept well last night," the Overseer begins, curling that signature smile, "because today you'll need your strength..."
I hate his words. I hate his voice. Tired, confused, my mind churning like mud beneath the plow, I stare at him and hate his very existence.
And he just smiles back.
"We journey north once more," he continues after a brief pause. "There is but one test today, but it is crucial. More will be revealed in time. Please, follow your High Worthies outside. The carriages are waiting."
He spins away on completion of his words, moving off smoothly, far too smoothly for a man of his considerable age. I watch him go with a face like thunder. I need answers. I deserve answers. If he doesn't give them to me, I'll...
"Lady Amber, are you all right?"
I turn to find Marlow's soft expression greet me. He recoils, my visage sufficiently dark to have him almost stepping back.
"My Lady," he says. "Are you..."
"I'm fine," I grunt. "Just tired." My eyes sweep off, watching the Overseer disappear from the building. A further ripple throbs through me. If I had any energy, I'd go after him now, demanding answers.
"Well, um, perhaps some rest on the way will help," Marlow says, managing to keep his voice light. "Do follow me, my Lady. This way now."
His voice, his manner, grates. I find everything around me insufferable right now.
The journey seems to take little time, the carriages rattling through the city and out of the northern gate. I try to sleep, but find myself unable to, my mind lost to endless rumination. Within the blink of an eye, we're passing through the gate, over the great drawbridge and across the moat, rolling off over the barren plains beyond.
I look out through the windows, pulling sharply back on the curtain, almost ripping it from its post. Marlow recedes a little further into his seat. Krun, riding along with us, sits silent, observing me carefully. I ignore them both, as I have the whole journey so far.
I am in no mood for trivialities and I think they can sense it. The few questions I've been asked, mostly by Marlow to see if he can help, had been met with an arctic response. Part of me feels bad about that, but it's currently being overwhelmed by something far more powerful. I'll apologise to Marlow later. I need to get some closure first.
Out of the window, I gaze out at the wide world, part of me vaguely searching the horizon for some way of escape. It isn't that I necessarily want to leave this place, or step off this path I've found myself on. No, I need answers, that's all. I need to see my grandmother and find out the truth. I need to face someone I trust and hear it from her mouth.
But...do I trust her? How can I trust a woman who's lied to me all my life? Has she earned it more than the Overseer, or the people around me now? How can I trust anything in this pit full of snakes?
I heave a breath, and blow it out of the window, watching the horizon take shape with a cluster of low-lying hills and craggy peaks. We begin to slow as we get closer to them, the wasteland more rugged here, the earth seeming to shimmer with a great heat.
I turn my eyes sharply on Marlow, who pulls back, meek.
"What is this place?" I ask.
He tentatively looks out of the window. "I...I'm not entirely sure, my Lady," he stammers. "I've never been this far before. Truth be told, I've never ventured beyond the northern gate before attending with you several days..."
I lose focus, uninterested in any of his long-winded explanations right now. I make a further mental note to apologise later. The poor man is only trying to do his duty. I should probably tell him that, right now, his duty is best served by staying silent.
The carriages come to a stop at the foot of some craggy outcrops. We climb onto the earth, and I feel an immediate sensation of heat beneath my feet. My time here has taught me to be more mindful, more sensitive, to fluctuations in temperature. I can quickly tell that there's a powerful heat source nearby, somewhere underfoot.
I find my eyes working ahead, perusing the hills, and passing by Elian as they do. I expect to be met with the usual arrogance he's been assuming the previous couple of days since our 'falling out', if you can call it that. I don't, however, on this occasion. Instead, I notice a look of intrigue in his eyes, as if wondering what my problem is this morning.
He's probably happy to see me like this, knowing I've had a dreadful night's sleep. Anything to improve his chances...
I sneer as the thought comes, but am quickly distracted as the Overseer drops gently from his ornate carriage, red-blue robes shining magnificently under the sun. He looks to the sky with a smile, then turns his eyes to us.
"Isn't the sun hot today," he says, apparently setting off into another irritating preamble. "So hot that, even so far away, it radiates down upon us, gives life to this wondrous planet." He looks upon each of us candidates, his eyes moving more quickly over me than usual. "I wonder how you would withstand its heat? How close could you get before combusting, do you think?"
He lets the question linger, as if expecting an answer. He doesn't get one, of course. There is no possible answer.
"Alas, we'll never know," he goes on after a pause, "but we can try to find the next best thing." His eyes flash. "Now follow me. The next trial isn't far away."
I stamp after him as we set off once more, my expression enough to rival Hestia in pure, unrivalled anger and discontent. I imagine she must purposefully go without sleep to maintain this constant state of disgruntlement, moping about as if she's got the worst life in the world. We catch eyes a couple of times, going toe to toe for sheer facial fury. And, for some strange reason, that alone seems to get her off my back a little. It's as if she feeds off any sort of weakness, and feels more comfortable when being looked at with pure hatred. What an odd woman she is.
We don't take long before reaching
an opening that drops into the mountain. Sunlight brightens the mouth, but the interior grows quickly dark. The Overseer, with his Fire-Blood aids alongside, takes out a strange electronic device known as a flashlight, using it to light our way. His aids, meanwhile, let their robes glow to offer further illumination.
The cave is large, not too uneven underfoot, and easy to navigate. With the High Worthies, and Krun behind, we press onwards, the heat growing increasingly intense as we go. Soon enough, the humidity has reached its apex, the air close and puffy, billowing around us. Ahead, at the edge of the narrowing tunnel, I see a large cavern open out.
And in its middle, a gaping hole.
A subtle orange glows around the opening, steam rising from within like a pot over the stove, endlessly boiling. I see those without Fire-Blood enhancements begin to sweat profusely, shielding their faces from the blasting heat as they advance. The Overseer, helped by his aids, moves up to the lip of the hole and turns his eyes down. He waves us forward and we gather around the edge.
I step forward, look down, and see a thick, orange-red soup bubbling below.
My chest tightens at the sight.
Lava.
The molten rock heaves and undulates, like some strange, formless beast, fatal to all those who go near. I see the High Worthies glance over the edge before quickly retreating, wiping their brows, whispering worried words between them. I fix eyes with Marlow, whose own are cloaked in concern.
And my own? Well, it'd be safe to say that the roaring hatred and anger has now gone. Sensing what's to come, I have little space for anything much more than a palpitating sense of fear.
Standing across the pit, the Overseer once more begins to speak.
"The challenge to the four of you is simple," he says, eyes falling down towards the lava. I see a set of stairs there, cut into the side of the rock, leading right towards the bottom. "You must descend the steps, and go into the lava itself. This is as much a test of bravery as your natural defences. Step in, and step out, covering yourselves to the shoulders and neck. I assure you, the experience will make you stronger. Now, would anyone volunteer to go first?"
We look at one another, not expecting this turn. So far, the Overseer has been consistent in his selection policy, always choosing the line up of the candidates himself. This, I know, must be another test. A test of bravery, he said.
It starts right now.
I prepare to step forward, to get this done, but find my attempt rebuffed.
"I'll do it," comes a deep voice.
I turn, expecting to find Elian acting the hero, but to my surprise discover Richter stepping forward. His face is pale, sweat beading on his forehead. He looks down over the edge, gulping back his fear, then up into the eyes of the Overseer.
"Go ahead, Richter," he says. "Remove your robes, and enter the pit. Show us what you were born to be."
Richter hauls a breath into his lungs, eyes attempting to fix tight, resolute. He moves around the edge of the pit, trying to stay steady, trying to hold his determination. I see the terror inside him trying to break free. My dislike for him fades immediately as I watch him begin to descend the stair.
He moves down the steps, a wince building on his face as he goes. Reaching the bottom, I watch as he removes his robes, leaving him in only his underwear. His body is slim, grisly, bearing marks and bruises from the previous day. Around him, I see a subtle glow begin to gather as he prepares to make the leap.
I find myself willing him on unexpectedly. It might just be me being selfish, knowing that, if he can withstand it, surely I can too. But, it seems like something more. Like the sort of shared feeling of support you have when faced by a mutual threat, as a nation embroiled in civil war, suddenly coming together to beat off an invading foe.
Do it, Richter, I find myself thinking, clenching my fist. You can do this...
He hesitates for a few moments, appearing to shrink back from the challenge. Rising again into the cavern, the Overseer's persuasive voice rings out.
"Step in, Richter," he says. "Make the leap. Show us what you are."
The words seem to inspire him, realign his focus. In a moment that seems to last forever, he straightens himself up, takes a long breath, shuts his eyes and then...
He makes the leap.
His body drops into the lava, the thick orange soup quickly wrapping up around him. It covers him right up to his shoulders, his head remaining out, face clear for us to see. For a second, I see a sense of calm spread through him, almost enough to bring a smile. He looks up with an expression that says, 'this is easy. Is that all you've got?'.
Then, the change occurs. It starts slowly, before advancing rapidly. I see a frown begin to fall, gentle at first, a mild confusion. Then, moments later, his eyes coil into a tremendous pain, and his mouth rips apart, howling into the chamber. I step forward on instinct, as if preparing to reach down and try to haul him out. He's too low, far too low. I feel an hand grab my arm and pull me back, and turn to find Elian there, shaking his head.
His eyes turn back to Richter, and mine follow. The man I see reminds me of Raymond, his face splitting in agony, his voice ringing out in a bloodcurdling scream. He thrashes towards the steps, trying to haul himself out. He manages to lift himself enough to show his shoulders and upper arms. I smell it even before I see it; the flesh melting away, his body so quickly disfigured.
"Help him," I shout out. "We have to help him!"
Once again, I try to move around, rush down the steps to his aid. Elian once more holds me away from the edge. And, once more, the Overseer speaks.
"This is his challenge, Amber," he says. "If he cannot withstand it, then so be it. It is an honourable death."
His words should shock me, but they don't. I look down again and, ready to try to go to his aid once more, find myself instead rooted to the spot. I know, seeing him, that there's no longer any point. What was once his body will now be beyond saving.
He is already dead.
I stare down, watching him begin to disappear into the lava, his flesh and bone eaten away. I turn my hating eyes back onto the Overseer, but feel a strange conflict take hold.
Maybe he's right, I think. This was his choice, to be here today, to enter the pit just now. It wasn't forced upon him. No one can be blamed for this.
I accept my rationale, the thought helping to calm me.
And, just in time, as I feel my legs unexpectedly drawing me forward.
Next into the lava, is me.
The boiling pit awaits, down the steps ahead.
I look down, my robe tossed to one side, leaving me only in my undergarments. I know, should I survive, that they will not. When I step out, I'll do so naked. It's of little concern right now.
I look into the orange soup, wondering if anything of Richter remains. It is a strange thought, really, to be concerned about stepping on some piece of him in there, when I have far more pressing concerns. I almost draw an ironic smile as that thought comes. The expression fades as a waft of burning flesh pours up my nose.
He was too weak, I tell myself. But you, Amber, are strong. You have the blood of the Chosen inside you. The lava is no match for you.
My eyes fix, my face defiant. I see in my mind's eye the expression my grandma held when she stood there beside the other candidates, looking so confident as she awaited the calling of her name. I hold the same look now. Perhaps this truly is my destiny...
I step forward without thinking, dropping feet first into the pit. I plunge deep, the molten rock hugging my frame, gathering around my body and up to my neck. It feels almost comfortable, thick and unexpectedly soft. I imagine that I look like Richter did at first, before the reality set in, before his body was consumed.
I shut my eyes in there, ignoring the passing of the time. I brace for the pain, but nothing comes. My hands gently begin to move around my submerged body, prodding tentatively at my flesh. It remains intact, uneaten. My fingers pass by my underwear, or at least where my underwear once was.
No longer. It has already melted away.
I begin to move, wading to the left and right, pressing through the thick, semi-liquid. My hands open up, fingers splayed, letting it run between the gaps. Still, no pain comes, the impossible temperature barely registering. I press at my flesh once more, and once more discover no discomfort.
I open my eyes and turn them up. The Overseer looks down, no concern upon his face. He knew I'd be OK. He knew it before we came here. He's known it all along, hasn't he?
But...what more does he know?
I move back towards the steps, my eyes staying on him. One by one, I climb back out, the lava gliding painlessly off my body and dripping onto the rock with a hiss, my fingers reaching down to grab my robe, wrap it back around my naked body.
I rise up the steps, and stand before him. My hand lifts to my cheek, wiping molten rock away, flicking it to one side as I set my glare upon him.
"I want answers," I growl, the vessels in my body glowing red, my skin shimmering with waves of heat, steam pouring from the top of my head. "And I want them now."
I allow my body to flare, sparks of fire rising off it. The Overseer doesn't flinch or draw back. He just stands there, staring into my eyes, a smile upon his face.
"Oh, you're learning," he says softly. He frowns, his gaze intensifying a little, as if trying to penetrate my mind. "Yes, your skills are growing by the day. The molten pit has served you well..."
"Answers," I say, voice crackling, cutting him off. "You will give them to me."
That grin of his lifts a little higher. "Fear not, child," he whispers. "You'll get them. Be patient, they are imminent."
He opens out his palm, gesturing for me to step back. I hold my form a moment longer before finally relenting. Turning, I switch my gaze to Elian, eyes glistening as they stare at me, my robes draped loosely over my otherwise nude frame.
I step forward slowly, the cavern in a quiet state of awe, the High Worthies looking on, hands to mouths, eyes wide.
No weariness remains in me now, no exhaustion. Nothing like a nice dip in the lava pit to wake you up, I think.
