NIGHT BEFORE THE ORDEAL GAMES
(AT WHITE ORDER CHURCH)
The great hall stretched high above, its walls polished to a brilliant white that caught the glow of golden chandeliers hanging from vaulted ceilings. Marble pillars carved with intricate dragon motifs lined the room, their bases inlaid with silver filigree that shimmered like frost. The floor—made from the same white stone as the mountain peak—was so smooth it reflected every light, every shadow, as if the hall itself were watching. In the center of the room, a long oak table bore ancient tomes bound in white leather, their pages yellowed with age.
CRACK!
Abe's fist slammed into one of the solid stone pillars, leaving behind a web of cracks that spread across its surface like frozen lightning. He pulled his hand back, flexing his scaled fingers with a snarl.
"Tchhh—those lower life forms," he spat, pacing back and forth across the polished floor. "The guts they have… With all due respect, Bishop Kor'dor—why waste time with these Ordeal Games? I could end those puny weaklings on my own. No rules, no fuss—just done."
Anniebie stepped forward, her golden scales catching the light as she nodded in agreement. "Yeah, my lord. Why put the Book of Vanessa on the line like that? It's been our most sacred treasure for centuries."
Louie sat at the far end of the table, his eyes closed, hands folded in his lap. He didn't move, didn't speak—just breathed steadily as the others talked.
The Bishop turned from where he'd been studying a large map of the mountain, his weathered face calm despite the tension in the room. "Why do you look so frustrated, Abe? Don't you believe you'll win?"
"It's not about winning," Abe growled, slamming his palm down on the oak table hard enough to make the tomes rattle. "It's that you'd risk everything for a bunch of outsiders—and for whatever that pendant is they're carrying."
Anniebie sank into a chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back, her expression dark with worry.
The Bishop walked slowly to the head of the table, resting his hands on its surface. "I did this because I know beyond doubt that you three will win. And you must win—no matter how strong they prove to be." He paused, his voice growing heavy with gravity. "That elf—Hythesion—is carrying something the White Lord himself seeks, The Pendant of Morea. And it will be our protection to whatever the White Lord is planning."
Anniebie's eyes widened slightly. "The Beast… right?"
"Yes," the Bishop confirmed, his gaze distant for a moment. "If we can get our hands on that pendant, the White Lord will spare our order—spare this mountain and everyone who calls it home. That's why victory isn't just our goal tomorrow… it's our only chance at survival."
Abe let out a sharp laugh, pounding his chest with his fist. "Please—like I said, I could take them all at once. They're weaklings compared to us—we're the elite of the White Order!"
The Bishop glanced over at Louie, who still hadn't spoken a word. "Louie… you've been quiet. What's on your mind?"
Louie opened his eyes slowly—they were sharp, focused, like a hawk watching its prey. "Nothing you need to worry about, my lord. Just thinking about who they might choose to send into the games."
"And who will be the ones he'll be sendin for the dungeons." he added silently in his head, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.
Abe waved a dismissive hand. "It doesn't matter who they pick, Sir Louie! We're stronger, faster, better trained—we'll crush whoever stands in our way!"
Louie said nothing in reply, just turned his gaze to the window where moonlight streamed in, painting patterns on the white floor. "So," he thought to himself, "what will be your move now, Silver Lake Strategist?"
(AT THE BOTTOM OF THE MOUNTAIN)
At the mountain base camp, inside Hythesion's tent
The canvas walls of the tent did little to block out the mountain chill, but the warm glow of lanterns and the press of bodies made it feel cozy—like a small island of warmth in a sea of snow. Hythesion had spread out a rough map of the mountain on a wooden crate they'd turned into a table, and everyone leaned in close as Arkar spoke, his voice steady and clear.
"Yes," Arkar confirmed, running a finger along the map's edge. "Abe WhitFang, Louie Zafra, and Anniebie Incoy—they're the White Order's top elite. I trained alongside them once… that's why I know we can't take them lightly."
Hythesion nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing as he felt the faint hum of power each elite carried—even from miles away, their mana signatures were strong enough to prickle at his skin. "I can feel it too. Their auras are intense… they're not just strong fighters. They're dangerous."
Arkar took a breath before diving into details, his gaze serious as he looked at each of them. "Abe Whitefang first—he's the brutal one you all met today. A master of hand-to-hand combat, but that's not all. He's a descendant of the Ice Dragon Clan… a cryomancer who can freeze the air around him or turn his fists into blocks of solid ice."
Akmenos' jaw tightened, his knuckles white as he clenched his hands—but he stayed silent, listening closely.
"Next is Anniebie Incoy," Arkar continued. "She's their 'punisher'—fast as lightning, and that's not just a saying. She channels electricity through her blades and can move so quickly she looks like she is lightning itself. Descendant of the Lightning Dragon Clan."
Maitara whistled low under her breath, while Ethan adjusted the strap of his lute, his fingers already finding a quiet, steady melody to ground them.
"Then there's Louie Zafra—the leader, and the strongest of the three," Arkar said, his voice carrying extra weight. "He doesn't come from any dragon clan… but he's mastered every elemental magic there is. Fire, water, earth, air—he can call any of them to his will. They say he's the strongest mage the White Order has ever seen."
A heavy silence fell over the tent for a moment before Arkar added, "I never saw the dungeons myself—not once. The Bishop kept them locked tight, even from the elites. But Louie mentioned once that he'd gone down there with the Bishop years ago. All he'd say was that it was massive… like a whole underground cave system carved into the mountain's heart."
Hythesion leaned back, his brow furrowed as a memory flashed through his mind—Louie's calm gaze, the firm grip of his hand when they'd shaken earlier. "I wonder if you think like I do," he thought to himself, his eyes drifting to the tent flap where moonlight seeped in. "If you're a strategist too… then you'd know we'd never come for just the games. You'd know we'd go for the dungeons as well."
He stood up straight, clearing his throat to get everyone's attention. The tent fell quiet, every eye on him.
"Then it's settled," he said firmly, looking around at each face in the lantern light. "I've chosen the teams not just for your skills—but because I know in my heart you can see these missions through. Here's how we'll split up…"
He spoke with a clear, firm voice that left no room for argument. "Geth, Ethan, and I will compete in the Ordeal Games. Our goal is to keep the White Order focused on us—buy as much time as we can for the other team."
His gaze shifted to Dale, who sat at the back of the tent with his arms crossed, listening intently. "Dale… you'll lead the dungeon team with Maitara and Akmenos. They'll need someone with experience."
Dale gave a short nod, his weathered face serious but steady. "Understood, I'll find Janna there."
"So Maitara, here's what you need to know—" Hythesion started, but his words cut off as Akmenos shot to his feet, his chair scraping loudly against the ground.
"Sir Hythesion!" Akmenos' voice was sharp with emotion. "—let me join the Ordeal Games team instead. I need to face that Abe myself."
Hythesion's expression didn't waver. "I'm sorry, Akmenos. But I've thought this through carefully. Abe is stronger, faster, more experienced—he's trained for this his whole life. I can't risk putting you in a fight you can't win."
SLAM!
Akmenos slammed his palm down on the crate-turned-table hard enough to make the map slide and lanterns flicker. "With all due respect, sir—I don't care what you think is possible or not! I don't care if it messes with your perfect plan!" His voice cracked slightly as he continued, "That Abe… he looked down on all of us, called us 'lower life forms' like we're nothing. And he called me…" He trailed off, his hands trembling at his sides before he turned and stormed out of the tent, the canvas flap whipping shut behind him.
Silence hung heavy in the tent for a long moment. Then Geth raised his hand, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh… look, I'm fine switching teams. I'd rather be down in those dungeons anyway—fighting in front of a crowd's never really been my thing."
Hythesion let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks, Geth—but let me talk to him first." Without another word, he ducked out of the tent and into the cold night air, following the sound of heavy footsteps into the darkness.
Akmenos sat on a flat stone beside a small frozen pond, the water so still it mirrored the starry sky above. He picked up smooth pebbles from the ground and flicked them across the ice, watching them skitter and slide before coming to a stop.
Hythesion approached quietly, his boots crunching softly in the snow, then sat down beside him without a word. After a moment, he finally spoke.
"What was that all about back there, Akmenos?"
Akmenos let out a long breath, his breath forming a small cloud in the cold air. "You know, sir… I never had what you'd call a good childhood." He tossed another pebble, harder this time—it cracked through the thin layer of ice before sinking into the dark water below. "My human parents… they looked at me the moment I was born, saw my horns, my skin… and they left me. Just like that."
Hythesion nodded slowly, staying quiet as he listened.
"I grew up with nothing," Akmenos continued, his voice rough with emotion. "Sold mangoes I'd pick from wild trees, herbs I'd find in the forest—tried to make an honest living. But the other kids in the village… they'd chase me, throw things at me. Called me names because I didn't look like them." He paused, his hand tightening around a pebble he'd been holding.
"Horned devil," Hythesion finished gently.
Akmenos dropped the pebble into his lap, staring down at his hands. "Yeah. I thought if I worked hard enough, if I was good enough, people would see past how I look. But no matter what I did… it was never enough. So I started teaching myself to fight. Found an old martial arts master who'd take me in—taught me everything he knew. But he died just a week later from an illness." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "So I kept training on my own. Kept telling myself that one day, I'd be strong enough that no one could look down on me again."
He looked up at Hythesion, his eyes glistening in the moonlight. "When Abe called me that… it hit different. Like all those years of trying to prove myself just vanished. I thought if I could beat him—really beat him—maybe… maybe I could finally make them see I'm not some monster." He sighed heavily, slumping forward slightly. "But you're right. I can't let my anger mess up what we're trying to do here. Whatever team you put me on… I'll do my job. No complaints. "
Hythesion was quiet for a moment, then let out a small chuckle as he picked up a smooth pebble of his own and flicked it across the ice—it skipped three times before disappearing beneath the surface.
"You know, when you nearly started a fight with Abe up on the mountain… he hasn't taken his eyes off you since. That dragonborn is waiting to face you tomorrow. If we don't put you in the Ordeal Games, he'll get suspicious—and that could unravel everything we've planned." He looked over at Akmenos, a warm smile on his face.
Akmenos blinked, then let out a short laugh of his own. "Wait a second… you were testing me back there, weren't you? All that 'you can't win' stuff?"
"Maybe a little," Hythesion admitted, standing up and brushing snow off his trousers. "But here's the truth—I don't care if you win or lose against Abe. What I do know is that this fight will push you to be better than you've ever been. Your emotions—your anger, your need to prove yourself—they don't have to be your weakness. They can be your strongest weapon."
He looked down at Akmenos, his gaze steady and sincere. "You don't need every single person in the world to see your worth. You just need a few who matter. When I first looked at you, I didn't see a devil, or a tiefling—I saw a fighter who'd been through hell and kept getting back up. And I don't lie about things like that."
With that, Hythesion turned and started walking back toward camp, his footsteps leaving deep prints in the snow. Akmenos sat there for a moment longer, a real smile spreading across his face for the first time all night. He stood up, brushed off his clothes, and followed close behind—his steps lighter than they'd been in years.
Back inside the tent, everyone turned as Hythesion and Akmenos walked in—Akmenos looked calmer now, his shoulders relaxed instead of tensed up.
"Change of plans," Hythesion announced, moving back to the crate table. "Akmenos will be joining Ethan and me in the Ordeal Games. Geth, you'll switch over to the dungeon team with Maitara and Dale."
Geth jumped to his feet, beaming. "Yes sir! Thanks—I'll make sure I don't let you down."
Hythesion nodded, turning to Maitara next. "Maitara, your Mind Speak magic is crucial here—keep me updated on everything you see down there, no matter how small it seems. And Dale…" He looked at the veteran with a serious expression. "If you run into anything unexpected, hold off on acting. Let Maitara relay the details to me first. Remember—this is a stealth mission. Staying hidden is better than picking a fight you can't win."
His gaze shifted to Geth, who was already packing his gear into a smaller bag.
"I… I can be stealthy!" Geth protested, making everyone grin.
"Yeah sure you are," Ethan laughed, giving Akmenos a firm fist bump.
Akmenos chuckled—his first real laugh of the night—as Geth shot Ethan a mock glare.
Dale leaned forward, looking a little concerned. "Are you sure Geth is the right fit for this? We could swap him with Ethan"
Hythesion shook his head firmly. "I need Ethan in the Ordeal Games. I need your tracking ability Ethan." he looked at Ethan
Ethan and Dale nodded slowly, accepting the decision.
"But sir Hyth—won't the White Order be able to track us using the Mind Speak spell?" Maitara asked, her brow furrowed with concern. "They've got powerful mages up there—they could pick up on the magical signature."
Hythesion gave her a small, confident smile. "They won't. Trust me on this one."
(BACK AT THE WHITE ORDER CHURCH)
The moon had climbed high in the sky, casting silver light through the tall stained-glass windows of Louie's private study. He sat at his desk, a steaming cup of dark mountain coffee in his hands—his usual night ritual, the only thing that helped him clear his mind before a big event.
The door opened quietly, and Anniebie stepped inside, closing it softly behind her. She pulled out a chair across from him and sat down, her expression focused.
"Sir Louie—who do you think will be fighting for them tomorrow?"
Louie took a slow sip of his coffee, then set the cup down with deliberate care. "The tiefling will definitely be there—he and Abe have unfinished business. I doubt Hythesion will sit this out either; he is the most powerful amongst them, so he'll be participating. The black-haired cat—is one of Sikverlake as well—he could be trouble, but he won't be joining the games. Hythesion will need him somewhere else. That leaves the Council Knight to round out their team."
Anniebie leaned back in her chair, a small grin playing at her lips. "Impressive. So I'll be facing that human Council Knight then? Hmm—this could be fun. I've heard they're well-trained, but I've never fought one myself."
"No," Louie said simply, picking up his cup again for another sip before setting it down. "You'll be facing Hythesion. I'll take the Council Knight instead."
Anniebie stood up, looking confused. "May I ask why, sir? If you face Hythesion, it would be a quick victory—and I could handle the knight easily enough."
"Exactly," Louie replied, his eyes meeting hers. "As Bishop Kor'dor said we need to win this. I don't think Abe could win his match against that Tieflinh. But if he wins, the better. But you, Anniebie, need to be pushed—challenged in ways you haven't been before. Facing Hythesion will force you to reach beyond what you think you're capable of. Winning against him will be great for you."
Anniebie nodded slowly, understanding dawning on her face. "Then it's settled. I'll go prepare now, sir Louie—train until dawn if I have to." She turned and walked out of the room, her steps purposeful and strong.
Louie was left alone with his coffee, staring out the window at the mountain below. "I won't be facing you, Hythesion of Silver Lake, not yet."he thought to himself, swirling the remaining liquid in his cup. "I cannot let myself go all out in such games and let you see what I'm capable of."
(BACK AT HYTHESION'S TENT)
Back inside the tent, the lantern flames danced as everyone gathered close, maps spread out before them. Ethan leaned forward, tapping a finger on the crumpled paper.
"Who do you think we'll be facing one-on-one, Hythesion? We should have some idea before tomorrow."
Hythesion glanced over at Arkar, gesturing for him to speak first. "What do you think? You know how they operate."
Arkar stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmmm… once we get up there tomorrow, Abe won't waste a second—he'll volunteer to fight Akmenos, no question about it. And Louie… I'd bet everything he has his eyes set on you, sir Hythesion. That leaves—"
"Anniebie Incoy," Ethan cut in, straightening up as he processed the thought. "So I'll be going head-to-head with her. Lightning powers, right?" He crossed his arms, his mind already racing with strategies.
Hythesion raised an eyebrow, looking at the bard with a mix of curiosity and hope. "Think you can take her?"
"Probably," Ethan said with a confident nod, though his eyes showed he was taking it seriously. "She's strong, no doubt about it—but I've faced faster opponents before. I think I can handle her."
"Yeah, use all that fancy Council Knight stuff you never talk about!" Geth chimed in with a grin, clapping Ethan on the shoulder.
Arkar turned his attention back to Hythesion, his expression serious. "What about you, sir? Do you think you can beat Louie?"
Hythesion was quiet for a moment, then looked at Arkar with steady eyes. "I don't know. He's mastered every element—something I've only ever read about. But I'll try my hardest." He paused, his gaze falling on the map where the temple was marked. "For the book. For all of us."
Arkar nodded firmly, understanding exactly what was at stake.
Hythesion stood up, looking around at each face in the tent—at Akmenos' determined stare, Maitara's focused gaze, Dale's steady presence, Geth's eager smile, Ethan's calm confidence, and Arkar's unwavering loyalty.
"Listen up, everyone," he said, his voice carrying through the quiet space. "This mission will put every single one of us in danger. But that's what we signed up for when we chose this life—we risk everything for what matters. Usually, it's gold or treasure… but this time, our reward is the Book of Vanessa, and bringing Janna home safe." He looked directly at Dale, then at all of them. "I know we can do this. We just have to trust each other—and trust the plan."