The room was silent. So silent that the nervous breaths of everyone present could be heard. Today was the day that they had all been preparing for. Today was the day that would determine their fates.

Ignatius sat back along the wall. His back pressed against the cool stone wall. Pondering who their instructor could be. He had no doubt that everyone else was wondering the same thing as him.

It was crucial to know who the instructor was for this year's Tribulations of Pyrsia since it was the instructor who determined the rankings of the Tribulations. The more battle experience the instructor had, the harder and pickier they were when deciding the rankings. Vice versa for a least experienced instructor. Most would find a less battle-experience instructor to be better but it was quite the opposite for nearly everyone in this room. Today was all about impressing and trying to get as high as possible in the rankings. The better the ranking, the sooner to fight and the greater attention at the Tribulations. Those with a high ranking were paid closer attention to by the Warlords, who chose new Clan members during the Tribulations on behalf of their respective Clans.

Ignatius looked around the room. Only the seventeen-year-olds from the Pyri Clan were here. If the rest of the Clans were here, it would be a mess, which was why evaluations were now done separately. In the past, it was attempted to do with all the Clans; it ended poorly. The Clans did not get along well, to say the least.

"I heard that this year's instructor is going to be the prince himself." Ignatius heard a boy say to another boy sitting a few people down from him.

"No way! The King would never allow that. He's only a year older than us. He may be general of the army, and an amazing warrior—,"

"And hot too." The girl on the first boy's right said.

"Shut up, Syra, no one asked you if he was hot or not." The second boy snapped at the girl.

The girl huffed and turned to the girl next to her, continuing their gossip about the prince.

Ignatius ignored the rest of their conversation and turned his attention back to the empty platform centered in the front of the room.

He focused on his breathing as he waited. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three. He continued his breathing and allowed his mind to clear and his body to relax as he awaited his impending trial with fate.

An hour passed before they finally were told to shut up before their instructor arrived. Apparently, the gossip of the two boys spread and got the entire room chattering about it to the point where the guards outside could hear them through the granite walls. Everyone was hoping it was Crown Prince Surya Aelius.  Ignatius knew it wouldn't be. The prince may have blown the competition away during last year's Tribulations, nearly beating Warlord Baskara Abellona's record speed, but he would not be their instructor. Last year participants of the Tribulations were only allowed to be an instructor for the Tribulations after a period of half a decade had passed. Besides, the Royal Family had never been permitted to be instructors so there was no point in starting now, especially since he already knew who the instructor was now. It took time but he did finally piece together who their instructor would be. It was someone no one would be happy with, himself particularly.

Ignatius sat and focused on his breathing. With every breath in and out he swore he could hear them in time with a pair of footsteps thudding lightly in the corridor. He doubled his efforts to clear and calm his body. He would not fear the instructor, he would not fear the instructor, he would not fear the instructor, he repeated over and over in his head.

The wooden doors creaked open and those footsteps he thought he heard outside, reverberated throughout the dead silent room. Stairs and wood groaned as the instructor ascended to the platform and stood looking at a single one of them and all of them at once in an unnerving manner.

"Good morning," he said, his voice hard and unforgiving, " I will be your instructor for this year's Tribulations of Pyrisa. I do not believe I need any introductions. You should all know me or by now you should." Everyone knew who he was from the telltale silver mask that covered the entire right side of his face. "The Flame Touched Warrior '' and "Flame Cursed" were a couple of names he was known by. He was one of the greatest warriors of his generation. "I do hope you all are well prepared. I will not tolerate laziness or lack of participation. Everyone will participate just as everyone will have a chance to spar against one another. So I hope that all of you know how to fight. Those monsters do and they will not hesitate to kill every single one of you if given the chance. May Fya's Flame guide us and Pyrisa's Sword protect us." The man's lone orange eye darted over all of them.

Ignatius felt that lone eye land on him and he raised his eyes to the orange eye, knowing the man was expecting great things from him, specifically to be at the top of the rankings.

"Especially to those of us that need it the most." He felt the blow hit him in the gut and he knew it was a warning that if he should fail expectations then there would be a price to pay.

Ignatius held that orange eye for a moment longer before he had to look away.

"I want everyone to gather their equipment and meet in the training yard in the next fifteen minutes. If you're late, well you don't want to know the consequences." The man excused himself and left them all to fend for themselves.

This man would not hold their hands or coddle them like the last few instructors. His intent was to make them learn to fend for and take care of themselves through whatever means possible. That was his way for as long as he could remember, as long as anyone could remember. There would be no prince for the girls to goggle at or for the boys to ask how he managed to nearly beat Warlord Baskara Abellona's score. No, there would only be a battle-hardened warrior who would do anything to drill into their soft heads that this was not a game but life and death.

The training field was set up as he had seen it many times in the past for each year's Tribulations. There were several roped-off sparring rings, an assortment of wooden practice dummies, obstacle courses, and the arena. The arena was a large wooden ravine-looking structure that was erected to mimic that of the real one in Rift. It was barely a fifth of the size. But it would work for training purposes to get them used to the tight spaces and obstructions they would be fighting in at the Rift.

"Is everyone here?" The man asked from where he stood in front of the wooden doors to the arena.

Ignatius saw everyone look around to see if they were all accounted for. By his count, there were thirty-six of them present when there should in fact be thirty-seven of them in total.

"Who is missing?" The man came to the same conclusion as Ignatius did. When no one offered up a name, the masked man started to pick someone to go first. "Aithne—Enya Guafi, how nice of you to join us."

The girl with burnt orange hair and eyes approaching them looked out of breath and her face was slightly red from running and exhaustion.

"I am terribly sorry, Lord Farja." She said, bowing her head in deference to the lord before them all.

Ignatius saw a few others widen their eyes. They must have not known he was a lord and was just a well-renowned warrior, or that he was the Lord Farja, the very same person as The Flame Touched Warrior. There was a common misconception that Lord Farja and The Flame Touched Warrior were two separate people when in reality they were the same.

"I hope you are because you will be making it up by going into the Ravine first."

The mimic of the Rift was nicknamed the Ravine due to being based on the Rift but lacking the length, width, and height of the actual Rift, hence the nickname.

Enya looked flustered but recovered quickly and did as she was told.

They all gathered at the top of the mezzanine, where below they could watch Enya enter the Ravine.

Ignatius knew that the Ravine was riddled with all sorts of hidden mechanics that activated once at a certain point, prompting a wooden monster to pop out. Enya's job was to get it to go back into the wall. How she was to accomplish that could be done in various ways. Her main objective, however, was to make it to the end of the Ravine without being hit by a wooden monster.

They all held their breath while waiting for the first hidden enemy to pop out.

Ignatius watched how she moved cautiously. She would stop at each corner and peek around it to check for monsters before returning to her slow stalk. He did not know her well but had met her on a few occasions. She was well trained though, he would give her that. He knew that most of these other idiots were going to go blundering through because there was no real danger. He would not be surprised if Lord Farja put real monsters in the Ravine, tucked away in hidden compartments instead of the wooden ones.

It was like fate heard him and a wooden door snapped open followed by a wicked, sharp hiss that rang in his ears.

Down below in the Ravine from one of the hidden compartments, slithered out a baby Hydra on its four stubby legs. The Hydra was barely the size of a full-grown human but it was still large enough to do major damage with those five heads and venomous spit.

Enya jumped back, the shield coming up to ward off any spit and her sword rested in a neutral position.

A few people by him stilled. None of them had expected there to be real monsters. Fools, all of them. Lord Farja was not going to let them get away with fighting wooden monsters and act like it was the same thing. What he was doing right now was the best way anyone could be prepared for the Tribulations, even though it was dangerous. Though, monsters weren't huge like the ones in the Rift. They were just the right size for training and for keeping damage and injuries under control.

"Go ahead, Enya, show us all how to effectively kill a Hydra." Lord Farja told Enya.

Enya didn't say anything. In fact, her eyes never left the Hydra. Both girl and monster stared at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

A low hiss came from one of the Hydra's maws as it sized up Enya as he was sure Enya was doing the same to the Hydra.

Everyone held their breath as Enya took a step towards the Hydra and another until she was ten feet from the Hydra, within maximum spitting distance.

The Hydra hissed louder, its tails and necks coiling, preparing to strike. In the blink of an eye, the Hydra launched itself at Enya. Enya ducked and rolled under the Hydra, slicing at the Hydra's soft underbelly as she went. The Hydra hissed in outrage and pain and whirled around to face the girl once more but was faced only with the kiss of her silver blade as it sliced through the two heads on its right, leaving only the central and left heads remaining. The Hydra backed up, as its two other heads started regrowing slowly from the stumps Enya left in her wake.

If Ignatius recalled correctly, it was the middle head that had to be sliced off, all the way to the body. If not, then the head would just grow back. He didn't know why she didn't slice off the middle head when she had the chance to do so. She could have—

Enya ran. She didn't run away from the Hydra but straight towards it. Her shield caught the venom the other two heads spat at her. While venom flew, fire gathered at the maw of the main head. Enya dropped to the ground and rolled as a pillar of flame surged toward her. She jumped back up, as fast as a Phanthera, and continued her race to the Hydra. Again and again, the Hydra rained venom and fire down at her. Enya caught the venom on her shield and dodged wisps of flame until she was upon the Hydra. Slamming her shield into the other two Hydra heads, her sword arched through the morning sun and sliced through the center head. Enya jumped back as liquid fire spurted and oozed from the Hydra's decapitated head and stump. The rest of the Hydra collapsed on the ground; the two remaining heads withered up like a mummified corpse.

Ignatius just stared in wonder. She was either really experienced or insane. If she had been a second too late, the other heads would have finished regrowing and she would have been killed. But somehow she survived and triumphed over one of the nastier monsters of Elementa. It was a good thing that the Tribulations were restricted to only five monster species.

Everyone was stunned at the performance. Then one person started clapping and another until everyone was clapping and applauding Enya.

"Well done, Enya Guafi. Hopefully, your fellow peers learned something from your performance. Now, who would like to go next?"

Ignatius saw no hands fly into the air, wanting to go smashing through the Ravine because they knew it would be easy just moments ago. No, everyone was terrified. This was the first taste of monster fighting most of them would have had in their entire lives. Very few had actually fought a monster before. Monsters were starting to dwindle and they were only seen in the remote, wild areas untouched by human hands. Villages that used to be harrowed by monsters, were now free from their dark shadows. Alongside the monsters, the Dwarves, Elves, Dragons, and Dragkablod were disappearing too, fading into the legends of old when they walked Elementa and ruled as the masters of this world.

As he waited for the next person to be called, he looked down to see the Hydra being dragged away and its blood and venom washed away by a mage with Water Elemental Magic. The blood looked dark in the morning sun. It reminded him of a time when the darkness did not scare him and the world seemed more carefree. He glanced a look at Lord Farja. Before he had been sent to Pyri to live with Lord Farja, his father, and his own personal Nether from the Neth itself.

At last, Lord Farja called someone and into the Ravine they went. This time instead of a Hydra, it was a Phanthera. The Phanthera put up a good fight but the beast of a boy by the name of Flint Bodaway ultimately crushed it. The adolescent Phanthera never had a chance.

Into the Ravine another went and another until they were halfway through. It was then that he was called upon to go into the Ravine.

Whispered crawled in his ears as he headed down the stairs and to the door.

"Do you think he ever saw Lord Farja's face under the mask?"

"That's his father? He seems like the complete opposite."

"Wait until you see him fight. Like Father, like son. It won't be a disappointment."

"If Enya was the opening act, Ignatius should have been the grand finale. This will be a fight to remember."

Those whispers chased him all the way down into the Ravine. Even from in the Ravine, he could hear them making bets on who would have the fastest time between him and Enya.

He blocked them all out and focused on his breathing. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three. And again and again, as he rounded the corners, awaiting the horrible monster that would pop out to be his opponent.

After rounding the third corner, he heard wood creaking and something snapped open behind him. He whirled around with his sword and shield at the ready. He was prepared for the worst of the worst. But what he saw was the complete opposite.

Standing behind him was an Arciak cub, staring up at him with large brown eyes.

Ignatius did not know what to make of the cub. It wasn't horrible, frightening, or monstrous in any way. It looked almost innocent, free of the stain its forefathers had left for it to inherit.

"Go on, kill it. It's a monster after all." His father called from above.

He didn't dare look up for fear that Lord Farja would see the weakness in his eyes.

Ignatius knew only one to kill the Arciak cub without causing it to harden into stone in defense.

Dropping his sword and shield, he slowly approached the cub.

People whispered, wondering what he was doing. He ignored them once more and focused his breathing again and again until he had reached the cub.

The cub looked up at him and crossed to him and placed its paws on his shoulders. Ignatius reached up and scratched the cub behind its ear as his other hand drifted to his belt and loosed the dagger there. Taking in one last deep breath and looking at the wooden wall, he dug the dagger into the cub's chest and jumped back. The cub screamed in pain and tried to slash at him with its inch-long claws. Ignatius avoided those claws and retreated to where he left his sword and shield. He hoped he didn't miss the cub's heart. He didn't want to make it endure any more suffering than it had already. It had already been separated from its mother. A pain he could relate to. His own mother, Lady Farja was still back at her family's estate. Awaiting for the day her son would come home, which was never if his father had his way.

The cub tried to attack him one more time, its claws screeching on his shield. The cub fell down to all fours and then onto its side and did not move as its eyes became drained of light and life, passing to the Neth where it belonged.

Ignatius left the Ravine as soon as the cub had died and retrieved his dagger before the mages came to drag the Arciak cub off.

He spaced out for the rest of the day, unable to focus on the rest of the people.

When everyone had finished going through the Ravine, the ground was stained in so much blood that it looked as black as night.

Ignatius kept staring at the dark stain on the ground. He had never been able to stand the color black anymore ever since that night the boy showed up at the estate, covered in dark blood that was both his own and not.

"I hope you all learned today that not all monsters are horrific creatures. Some look innocent but they are not. If given the chance, any monster will kill you, even if they are young and small. A monster is a monster." Lord Farja finished speaking. Ignatius felt when that gaze landed on him. It was a hard, piercing gaze that stabbed repeatedly over and over until he looked his father in the eye. That orange eye was hard and cold as the steel that covered the right side of his face. Ignatius immediately knew there was going to be a talk as soon as they got home. A talk he knew how would end. 

"You all are dismissed for the day. We meet back here at dawn."

There were quiet grumbles as they all left the Ravine. Ignatius figured most of these kids were never used to getting up this early just to train. He noticed that it was just the Tier Five kids, children of privilege and wealth.

The capital of Pyri was divided into five Tiers. Each Tier represented the ranking outcomes from each Tribulation. Tier one represented those who made it past the First Tribulation, making them the lowest class in the capital. Social status increased with each Tier. Families could move up or down Tiers depending on how well their kids did in the Tribulations. So it was of most importance to train children to reach the same Tribulation as their parents if not higher. A family's social ranking rested solely upon their child's training and success. It annoyed him that those kids were complaining in the first place. They probably thought they couldn't go down a Tier or two since their families had stayed in Tier Five for generations. All it took was one slip up and suddenly a family could go from the top to the bottom in a single day.

That was precisely why Lord Farja wasn't messing around or holding their hands. He knew how important it was. His very place in Tier Five rested on Ignatius's shoulders. And it was stressful and hard to meet the expectations his father had set for him. Expectations that seemed higher than the sky itself. Sometimes the weight was too much and felt like he was suffocating. That he couldn't breathe; drowning and no one could hear him screaming for help.

Ignatius walked back to the Farja Manor alone. His father had to do something in the Citadel before returning home.

Upon entering the manor, he was greeted by the same emptiness that always greeted him every day. Here there were no smiling servants. In fact, there was no one. His father only allowed servants to come clean once a week. He liked the privacy and quietness of an empty house.

Ignatius missed the Calida Estate where his mother and adoptive brother lived in peace from his monstrous father. He missed the vast gardens and being outside under the sun and fresh, seaside air that kissed his face each morning. The air in Pyri was dull and dead, just like the rest of the city where everyone was stuck fighting for the highest ranking and never truly living for themselves. Just like him.

His father came home two hours later.

Ignatius met his father in his study, his back rim rod straight as he stood in front of the desk with his hands clasped behind his back. His father told him it was something he needed to start doing when speaking or being spoken to by someone of equal or higher ranking than him.

Ignacio Farja sat at the desk, his Wyrukh quill scratching against a sheet of parchment. The candlelight reflected dimly off that simple steel mask.

He had never seen how bad the burn was under that mask. His mother never had either. She had said the night it happened, his father had never let anyone see his face. The only person who saw it was the mage at the estate at the time. The mage hadn't been able to repair the damage done to his face, saying the fire left nothing to repair.

His adoptive brother had been lucky. His face and hand were able to be healed but not completely. The scar was now a thin line along his face and the bones in his left hand were still crooked. But his brother was happy now and so was he for him. His brother had been through so much. He deserved to be happy and there was no one better than his mother to make him smile and be happy.

"Do you know what you did wrong today?" Ignacio asked, never once looking up from his writing.

"Yes, sir." He replied.

"What was it?"

"I hesitated."

"And what does hesitation do?"

"It gets you killed."

"Exactly." The Wyrukh quill plopped back into the ink jar and Ignacio looked at him with that orange eye, that burned as bright as any flame. "If I see you hesitate like that during the Tribulations or during any training sessions I will tan your hide, boy." His father said with a cold and deadly voice. Ignatius believed every word. This was not just a silly threat to scare him. This was real. If he didn't want to go back down there, then he could not afford to hesitate again. One more slip up and the cold and darkness would return and devour him whole. It would destroy him this time for sure, he knew it. He couldn't go back there, not again. Never again.

"Yes, sir. I will not hesitate again."

Ignacio watched him closely. "You better not. Now go. I don't want to see you until morning."

Ignatius left the room as quickly as he could in a manner that made it look like he wasn't running away with his tail between his legs. 

He wasn't expecting a talk. He was thinking of the usual, which involved less words and more...physical communication. 

He returned back to his scarce and simple room. He never really needed anything when he came to capital. All he really needed was a roof over his head and a bed to sleep on. He felt bad for the servants who had to bring all of their spoiled master's kids' belongings.

Ignatius lay down on the bed, looked up at the ceiling, and closed his eyes, listening to the silence of his room. The light wind rapped against his window, the creaking stairs signaling Ignacio's own return to his chambers, and the crackling fire. He jolted up, looking at the fire dancing lazily in the hearth.

Rising from the bed, he put the fire out and opened his window. The moon was so bright tonight, like a second, paler sun. He loved nights like these. They were always his favorite. He could see everything all the way from the Citadel to First Tier and the surrounding lands. In the very distance, he swore he could see the Calida Estate. He wondered how long it would take him to return there on foot. Too long and Ignacio would kill him if he found him gone the next morning.

Overcome by the realization that he was probably never going back home for the next month or possibly even after that, he lumbered back to the bed and laid down on it, not even bothering with the covers. They made him feel trapped. He preferred being able to feel the wind and know he was no longer trapped in that darkness below where the wind did not dance nor the light could penetrate.

He closed his eyes and his mind gave him splendid dreams of happiness to combat the awful ones that were still fresh in his mind. When would he ever finally be free of the pains of this world he wondered, before slipping into a deep and peaceful sleep.