A noise from somewhere echoes through the mysterious facility as I follow the kosya into my bunker. We are silent, and I see no reason to speak as I’ve not been able to piece together the exact specifics of this place other than I came here for a competition, and that it runs on one’s soul. Upon entering my quarters, I sit at the edge of my cot, while she takes a seat in a chair across me.

“Why would you be confined in your world,” the kosya shifts in her position a little, “What would you do while confined?”

“That...” I rest my chin on my palm, leaning forward as I try to sort out my answer. It is not a case of myself lacking an answer; if anything, it was more of trying to translate my thoughts in a way that is coherent into Common--or “English,” as this woman and the people I’ve encountered at the competition facility seemed to call it.

“In Xaranya, the land I hail from, that would be a very dire situation.”

She seems intrigued by my answer, “A dire situation?”

“Yes,” I nod slowly, trying to convey the severity of the subject we are discussing, “No one in my home would discuss such a thing unless ...”

Grom’shiya, Common is such a hard language to express one’s emotions... I try to continue, “It is ... em, it would be like one speaking of a crime committed by someone who has taken the life of someone unfairly? Like those ‘news’ I see, talking about human tragedy -- it is very unusual to casually talk of confinement in this manner that is so ... ah, you say, ‘normal?’”

The kosya tilts her head at me, as if she, too, was struggling to understand, “Hm, are you meaning how we do not see it as something taboo? You know, something forbidden to speak of?”

“Yes, I think it is that. To be asking me of such a thing, I believe, is so unusual simply because this subject would barely be talked of. In the Kaiseevee tribe, there are many ... mantras, that are taught to us from child to adult; one of them I shall always remember because I was shown it in, ah, what you would call ‘primary school.’ The mantra goes, ‘Unite as one and Strength shall guide you. Succumb to selfishness and perish at the hands of the Devil.’”

“That’s quite a motto to teach a child.”

“But, it was and is necessary,” I explain, frowning just a little at how this kosya seemed to be focusing on the wrong aspect, “We were shown a frozen-over body, and the body was in such a state that it was clear how it lost its life--starvation and the harsh cold of the forest. When one chooses to be alone, to be isolated, it is death. The Arcana gave man a strength that flourishes in numbers, not isolation. It is why when someone commits treason on their tribemates, disrespects the natural order given by The Arcana, or disrespects their family, only then is one subjected to confinement and the throes of Xaranya. To speak of being alone is to speak of a severe, cruel death; it is the reason why I value company, regardless of the person, in any situation, I am placed in.”

“I’m sorry...” I draw a breath of composure, muttering a prayer of forgiveness to The Magician, “Please forgive me, it is the culture my heart knows of. I forget that those beyond Xaranya are not raised as such.”

“That is alright, Eridæus, this is about presenting yourself.”

After taking a few moments to re-gather myself, I continue, “So, if I were to be confined ... it would have happened if I recklessly continued to think about magic and using its properties to change the body I was born with. I would be sentenced to Xoenai, one of the many freezing northern forests in Xaranya, and left to lose my life, essentially. I would ... feel great shame. I do not wish to be so grim to say I would accept my fate--especially since Asra-miir has long taught me such thoughts are not taboo--but I would not do much to resist because I brought upon an action or actions telling my tribe that I disrespect them and wish to throw myself into the arms of The Devil. It is the punishment I receive for going against the life-force granted by The Arcana to help us survive Xaranya.”

She is silent again, and I grip onto the sheets a bit as I take a moment to face away from her--the feeling of “wrong” and dread is so overwhelming ... I know to her and many others it would seem “silly,” but the moment this is over, I intend to have a moment of repenting prayer to The Priestess. I may not be in the wrong, but it would not ease on my mind well if I did not do this.

“May I,” I steadily face her, “May I add some last words?”

“Of course, Eridæus, just remember your word count.”

Very slowly, I try to summarize my thoughts, “There are many things ‘the western world’ has shown me that are so unusual. There is the concept of a language using one’s gestures to communicate, or the concept of one’s first name not being held as sacred and is something one can casually say to a non-family person. But, from what I’ve seen of my temporary tribemates, I do not think I could understand this sense of ... ‘normal’ and even ‘glory’ that comes with talking about being alone and confined--how such subjects are not seen with such severity. How one sees death with pride ... it is something very concerning to me. That is all.”

She nods, standing up to leave, “Thank you for your answer, Eridæus. We will take the record of this interview along with those from your fellow contestants.”

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Author’s Note:

kosya is a formal honorific used to address a stranger when you do not know their name (derived from “kos” the honorific used when addressing a stranger whose name you know).

Grom’shiya is an expression that is the equivalent to “oh my God” or “seriously/really?” depending on the context. In this, the “oh my God,” context is the applicable one.

miir is an honorific to refer to a teacher or mentor, like sensei in Japanese.

Word count: 998

I am a soul that does not believe in revealing everything about myself; simply, I take the route of humility because I truly believe it is one of the greatest strengths of man. So, when I woke up in my cot, seeing a paper resting on the floor that reads, “Write two truths and one lie,” I feel perplexed--once again.

There are so many truths to pick from, which ones do I wish to reveal to the kosyii?

As I slowly pick up the paper, trying to think of the best truths and lies to pick from my life, I reminisce my first time going on a hunting troop when I was fourteen. I had just proclaimed to my Shaman that I wished to pursue alchemy, and it was only my fifth day of training in the field. There are two other pursuits one may choose from alchemy, shaman and medic. Medics are those who go along with the hunting troops and the battlers to be ready for anyone who may be injured, while a Shaman will stay with the tribe unless we are in battle. As part of my training, I was sent on a hunting troop under the supervision of a senior medic to tend to any injuries. No one had been injured that day I went, but what always stood out to me was the sensations one feels when hunting prey.

Your heart is pounding like crazy, everyone is so deliberate and silent in their pace, and the prey you set your eyes on ... it is in between oblivious and afraid. The snow deer have instinct, they know the feeling of eyes watching their move, yet when one is hidden they can never discern the specifics. They take steps, looking around and twitching their ears so frequently, but it is all in vain. The moment they step into the trap, their cries of fear mean nothing as the spear quickly punctures through their neck.

Thinking about the fear in the creature’s eyes in its last moments, reminded me of a moment of life-threatening danger I’d shared with my partner, Lucio, being on the run in the snow when I was sucked into The Arcane Realm. Lucio, for all the good in his heart, made many dark choices in his past. I will never forget the fear that surged through me when The Devil confronted Lucio.

Count Lucio, just before he was burned alive, made a pact with The Devil; in exchange for a cure to the Red Plague pandemic ravaging every part of the world, Lucio would allow The Devil to use his body as a vessel to rule Vesuvia. Unlimited power and immortality running amok is the fate the country would face had Lucio managed to get caught the first time, but he was burned alive before anything could be done.

Now, having been revived from the dead and roaming The Devil’s Realm, the tall, dark-horned demonic goat was out to collect his dues. The looming, ominous figure of The Devil grinning so eagerly as scarlet and ebony mist-like tendrils swirl out from his palm, aiming straight for Lucio is an image that still remains vivid to this day. I remember how they manage to grab him, muffling his cries as he struggles and resists against The Devil overriding his soul. At that moment, I do not think; all I can remember is a slight blue flash as I managed to conjure up a strong enough shield to protect Lucio and make The Devil stop. Lucio may have made a world-ending mistake, but his heart was pure--he did not deserve this fate.

The Arcane god broke through it with ease, but the cloud of smoke that came from the explosion of clashing energies gave us enough cover to take off into a sprint.

“You mortals love running from the inevitable. I’ll find you soon, Count Lucio.”

The words wouldn’t leave my conscience as we trudged through the hail and snow, not daring to look behind our shoulders. At one point, I finally got answers from Lucio about the deal he committed to and had my first argument with him, nearly in tears as I could not understand how one could be so reckless and selfish to not think of the repercussions dabbling with such evil could have. During our desperate attempt to flee to find a different portal in the Arcane Realm, I remember the feeling of being watched being so invasive.

Perhaps it was my own mind, or perhaps it was the insidious magic of The Devil trying to find us, but every bone in my body told me we were being tailed, and we would die. No place was safe, no resting stop was safe, and no magic or force could save us from this. Pure fear consuming one’s soul to the point of a frantic insanity, that is what prey must feel; a terrifying limbo between knowing enough but not enough as one attempts to flee the sneaking reaches of losing a life. Even if we managed to find another portal and escape in the end, the feeling of terror and panic is something that has never left me.

I realize, now, what I wish to write.

I take the scribe tool off the nearby table, rest the blank paper in my lap, and begin filling it out:

1. I once used a full-body transformation on myself in secret.

2. I saved my partner from being possessed by The Devil.

3. I have gone on a hunting troop before.

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A/N:

kosyii - the plural form of “kosya,” which is the honorific to refer to a stranger when their name is not known.

“scribe tool” is just a transliteration of describing a pen, pencil, etc. Xaranian language doesn’t have a specific word to discern either.

Word Count: 928

A/N:

″saen” - Honorific, very formal, and used with someone who has the highest rank/authority in a social setting (i.e. a boss, chief leader, shaman)

″zheijasirii” - It appears to be de-thorned bramble branches woven together by magic and dusted with sage incense. In Eridæus’ hometown, it’s made as a protective charm.

“Xæ” - “Yes,” in Eridæus’ language.

″Grom’shiya” - Can mean “oh my God” or “seriously?” depending on the context.

Alexandrokh-saen and Gabriel are the same person, ”Alexandrokh-saen,” is Gabriel’s patronymic name. Addressing someone with a patronymic and with the saen honorific implies high authority/respect and also closeness.

Word Count: 997

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When Gabriel told me Ery was gonna be taken away somewhere for some “competition,” I immediately tried to join in. The whole thing sounded suspicious; as someone’s who’s been in competitions I probably shouldn’t have signed up for lots of times, I was worried about someone trying to hurt him. He wasn’t exactly a physical fighter, and while he trained with me a bit, he wasn’t much of a pro like me yet. Okay, that, and we may or may not have been “distracted” a couple of times.

“What’d you mean I can’t come with you?” I protest while watching him pack his bags, “What if someone tries to hurt you?! The weirded robed lady mentioned things about ‘other contestants,’ people from ‘other worlds,‘--and you remember what things from ‘other worlds’ can do.”

“Yes, it is dubious at best,” Ery stops packing, facing me as he wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me into a tight hug. “But, Alexandrokh-saen requested I enlist and take her offer. It could develop myself as a person, and I could see more of the Western world and its culture. I will be careful, Lushiyo, I promise I will be careful and use whatever in my skills to fend off anyone who threatens me.”

I move back from his embrace, taking one long gaze at the beautiful face in front of me; the soft features, his thick eyebrows, the monocle over his left eye that gave him the look of detective, his medium-length, side-swept hair, those beautiful silver eyes that knew how to light my heart and break it at the same time--today would be the last day I get to look at them properly.

“You’re gonna...” I hesitate a bit, my voice growing quiet as I ask him the vulnerable question, “You’re gonna try to contact me, right?”

″Xæ, Lucio.” he kisses me on the lips, then trails down towards my nape, murmuring gently into my ear, “I know you will be worried and I will do everything in my power to find a way to comfort you in my absence. I love you so much, Lutzokh Lucio, I really do. These days without you will be painful, but we will see each other again. Alexandrokh-saen wishes for it, and he will step in if anything harmful happens with this mysterious organization.”

I kiss him on his shoulder, “The poochies and I will wait, and I mean it, Ery--I won’t do anything while you’re gone, I promise. I really do love you, too.”

“I know, Lucio, I trust you, remember?” he gives me one last peck on the lips before finishing up gathering his belongings, “Okay; tonic kit, potions kit, herbs, spices, pendant, cloak, scrubber to wash my clothes, cleaning mixture, monocle and its cleaner, zheijasirii ... and you have the looking glass?”

Ah, right! The thing we can talk to each other through if he’s able to use his magic, I quickly dash over to the nearby desk and grab it, wiggling it around to show I had it, “Yep, I’ve got it.”

His smile lights up my heart, “Then, I will be leaving in the evening.”

Ery sets down his belongings off to the side and leans against the edge of the bed, “So, Lutzokh Lucio, what shall we do? I have some time to kill.”

A sly smirk slowly etches onto my face, “Y’know, it’s been a few weeks since you gave me a language lesson.”

After a few seconds, I see that tiger-of-a-man raise an eyebrow at me, “Ah, yes, that would be right it has been nearly half of a month, yes?”

“Oh yeah, baby,” I gently pin him down onto our bed and kiss him on the forehead, “I definitely forgot everything you taught me~”

The chuckle that escapes him warms my heart and excites me as he wraps his arms around my neck and pulls me in for another kiss, “Then, let’s start the lesson, my troublesome student.”

And here I am, now, sitting in the bedroom alone as I cuddle and pet my two poochies, Mercedes and Melchior, as we wait for Ery to come back. Az, Noddy, Jules, and even the brute--I think his name is Ariel--were nice enough to hang out with me, but it’s not the same. The house is just so silent, quiet, and ... lonely. I find myself staring at the glass every night until I pass out with the sun just barely peeking out through the window.

Finally, after what feels like a few weeks, I finally saw the piece of glass glowing one night. Quickly, I scramble out of bed--falling onto the floor--but getting back up to grab the piece and hold it in my hand. A brief flash enveloped the room before a shaky, flickery image of Ery stemmed out from the glass piece.

“Ery?!” I nearly shout, forgetting that it was very early in the morning, “Ery?!”

His voice sounds so faint but eventually, I hear it, ”...Lushiyo?”

“Ery!” I try to hug the glass piece even though my arms go straight through the ghostly image. “Eryyyy, I’ve missed you!! What’s happened, did anyone try to kill you??”

“No, no,” he reassures me, his formal, kind cadence making me feel fuzzy on the inside after being deprived of it for so long. “I just had to sit through an unpleasant interview, talking about confinement, but a brief repenting prayer session took care of it. Then, I was told a few days later to write two truths and a lie about myself.”

“Is that all you know?” I ask, still feeling worried.

“Yes,” Eri replies a bit tensely, “And it seems ... this connection is weak. It is taking all of my energy to maintain it. It seems they do not want me having contact with you too much.”

“How much time do you have?”

“As long as you can stay up, Lushiyo.”

“Then, tell me everything.”

″Grom’shiya, where do I begin?”

A/N:

Xae - Xaranian for “yes.”

Nenai - Xaranian for “no.”

kosya - Xaranian formal address for a stranger, if you do not know their name.

Arazabo - Xaranian for “thank you.”

Word count: 999

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“So,” Lucio begins to pour more bourbon into his cup and I can already feel myself wanting to tell him to have some moderation, “All you know is that you were interviewed to talk about being alone, you then played ‘Truth or Dare’ with some people, and then you got to have a call with me?”

″Lushiyo, please do not-”

“Ery, I want an answer!” he interrupts me, his voice riddened in a desperation I’ve only seen in him in his most vulnerable moments.

“Xæ,” I nod solemnly, “I really do not know much on any of this.”

″…What about,” he’s already starting to slur and I swear that’s the eigth sip of his cup he’s taken, “Wha’ about the weirded robed people?”

I pause for a moment, glancing over my shoulder, “I don’t know if I’m even allowed to speak of them. The women and men are dressed in white and they wear pendants with a set of symbols I do not recognize. I’ve only seen the woman who took me in for the competition, but that is all.”

“Do they have,” Lucio takes another swig. “Do ’hey have some boss? Head honcho? Some person I can give a punch to?”

″Lushiyo.”

“I mean it, Ery, I could take ’em on,” the count’s head is now resting on his pillow. “No one messes with you … no one…”

“Yes, but they’ve not harmed me. I just know that they want something and, surely, they must run this place and have a hierarchy.”

Silence falls between us as Lucio’s eyebrows furrow deeply, his lips upturned into a disgruntled pout; he wasn’t happy about any of this.

″…Do you have to go now?”

″Nenai,” I shake my head, “I don’t feel like I’m being watched as of now. I’m sure that woman would have come in and told me to end the call if they didn’t want me talking anymore.”

The image of Lucio flickers in and out from the small aura of light I’ve conjured in the middle of my bunker. I can feel my eyelids drooping, my body slowly becoming more sluggish as I feel the ability to keep up the spell drain me, ”…Though, the connection is still taking my strength.”

“I wann’ feel you, Ery.” Lucio mumbles into the pillow.

“Well,” I begin to explain, “You can’t, we are separated from each other.”

“Nnnooo,” he argues, “That on’ time … th’ spell … you rememb’r it?”

“I’m,” I laugh a little; his slur has become so much more prominent, “I’m afraid you must be more specific, Lutzokh Lucio. There have been many spells I’ve performed on you.”

“The on’ tha’ got you th’ name ‘tiger,’ Eryyyyyy.”

It takes me a small moment to decipher his half-mumbles until I finally recall what he is talking about, “Ah! The shared body spell?”

With what remaining magical mana I have left in myself, I slowly move the aura of light onto my cot as I get comfortable into the sheets and pillows, “I won’t be able to keep up the connection if I do that spell.”

“Tha’s alright, Ery, I just wann’ feel youuu…”

That would mean I’m going to be suffering whatever he’s imposed onto himself, I sigh a little bit; I’d never experienced a hangover and from how I’d seen Lucio clutch his head, it didn’t seem like something I wanted to bear.

However, this was different; he was worried and missing me. Clearly, everything about the facility screamed a mysterious, shady entity waiting to snatch me up–understandably.

I nod at him, “Alright. I’ll do the spell so you can feel me, but nothing naughty, understand Lutzokh Lucio?”

“Hee-hee~”

″Lushiyo.”

“Okayyy.”

Just as I am about to dispel the aura of light, I hear Lucio faintly mumble, ”…Love you Ery.”

“As do I, Lushiyo.” I flash him a warm smile before dispelling the aura of light. I utter a brief chant and then lay back as I’m overcome with a wave of lethargy before passing out in my cot.

I am woken up by the sound of someone entering my bunker, taking a chair and sitting across from my cot. My head is pounding and I feel extremely nauseated; the sharp pains make my eyes squint and even though I don’t see any light, I immediately cover my face with one of the thick pillows.

“I didn’t think you were the type to party.” the same kosya who’d interviewed me was back again, by the sound of it. “She would have been a little amused by this.”

“It was not a party…” I slowly speak, trying to manage through the searing headache and queasiness. “It was out of love.”

“Yes, for ‘Lushiyo’?”

″Lucio,” I correct her, not wanting to move an inch from where I lay, “The name you called him by is specifically for family and partners alone.”

“I understand, my apologies Eridæus.”

I cautiously open one eye, looking into the darkness of the pillow pressed against my face, ”…Is there something I am to do?”

“Not today, but I did bring a remedy; water, and a broth–you seemed like a person who’d like such a meal.”

I hear the sound of something being moved closer to me, ”Arazabo for your hospitality, kosya. Is there a reason why you won’t say your name?”

“It is not time yet, you will find out such things when She gives us the order.”

I managed to open my other eye and slowly remove my face from the pillow; the light is searing, ”…She? And who is She? Are you an Order?”

The kosya shifts in her position; it is impossible for me to tell what facial expression she is making as the robes obscure everything but her eyes, “Again, you will find out when we receive Her orders, just like the other contestants.”

She gracefully rises from the chair, gestures to the glass of water and broth soup, “Please take care of yourself, Eridæus. You will need your strength.”

A/N:

kosya - formal address towards a person if you do not know their name.

Vlasokhii - an informal address of Eridæus’ patronymic “Vlasokh,” it is used with leaders/shamans/any tribemates higher in social ranking to those lower than them; can be both formal and intimate depending on context.

Shamaneokh-saen - a very formal address to a shaman tribemate; “eokh” implies closeness/intimacy, while “sæn” imples formality and social hierarchy.

Word count: 1000

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I sit in the lounge room, gently sipping the broth as the effects of the spell are still lingering in me. The headache is still present, but the queasiness has settled down enough for me to walk around.

As I am finishing my meal, the kosya walks up to me again, calmly standing by my table, “Please come with me when you are finished. She is waiting for you to start your session.”

“Session?” I ask as I finish another spoonful of the broth, “Of what kind of session?”

“You will see when you follow me.”

I gently set aside the bowl, stand up, and straighten my clothes and hair, “Then, I am ready; can I know as you escort me?”

She is silent, her eyes just narrowing slightly as she gives me a curt nod and waits for me to join her by her side. As we walk down the hallway of various doors, she then answers, “She wishes to see your fear.”

“I have many fears, is there anything specific?”

“That will show when the session begins.”

I frown, her curt and cryptic nature doesn’t help in offsetting the foreboding sense of malice I feel, “I understand.”

We are in a tense, uneasy silence before we finally reach one of the doors as it opens for us on its own. She gestures for me to enter and I do so, looking around to see every bit of the room is dark and empty. As I am about halfway into the room, I glance over at the kosya, ”...When will I know the session is over?”

“Myself or another disciple will be sent to retrieve you.” her answer is ominous at best as she promptly closes the door on me.

The silence is deafening, no noise or ambiance is present in this void-like space. I mutter a prayer to Strength before taking a seat in the center of the void. The ground is unusually chilling, yet soft and pliable ... like snow?

“This is a bit disrespectful, don’t you think?” I bristle a little, “Yes, I did say I did not like to speak or think of being alone but it is not a fear, and I’d prefer we do not disrespect The Arcana in this manner.”

A faint set of footsteps grow louder as they approach and I feel my hand clench into a fist--I recognize the rattling of that wooden staff from anywhere; it’s the Shaman of my tribe.

″Vlasokhii,” Arrogoshyazak-saen’s aged yet commanding voice makes the hairs on my arms stand. “How far have you led yourself astray?”

“I’ve not,” I counter, trying to keep my voice even. “It is you who chooses to believe such a thought.”

“You sound defensive, that means you know it is wrong. You have committed sin.”

“You aren’t here with me, Arrogoshyazak-saen. Given the nature of this place, I know what your manifestation is based on.”

“So you wish to hide, then?” he takes a cross-legged seat across from me on the floor.

“I’m not hiding.”

“Enough of your facade, Vlasokhii,” the fwop of his stick cutting through the air as he strikes it inches away from my right shoulder almost makes me jump, “Submit. You’ve committed hearsay, you’ve let The Devil consume you.”

“I have not.” my hands are shaking in anger, but I must contain it; I know what this is, I know very well what all of this is. It’s been so many years since I last saw my tribe, I’d long left everything behind; following orders and social customs that labeled me a sinner when I am not. I wasn’t going to let some anonymous figure rouse something inside of me; I had every right to feel and believe in what I did back then.

“You’re buckling, as is natural for man; let your guard down, you are not an Arcana.”

“I will not submit to you,” I can hear the falter in my voice as I try to not break away from the old Shaman’s piercing gaze. “I have not let anything consumed me, it is you who is trying to enforce something wrong into my mind. But I’m not the same man I was-”

“You are not a man, Vlasokhii.” he immediately interrupts me, “By even denoting yourself as such, you are-”

“I AM NOT YOURS TO HERD ANYMORE, SHAMANEOKH-SÆN!”

There is another flash and I feel something coursing through my veins I stand up, hearing the sound of electricity crackling in the air as blue volts surge through my palms and strike the old man. A grunt of pain escapes him as whatever shield he manages to conjure breaks instantly and I hear the sound of his body being flung across the snow.

Crack.

I feel my body, and I almost throw up; it feels what I’ve always wanted it to be, but something is wrong--very, very, wrong. I start walking and what starts out as the sound of my footsteps crunching through snow becomes soppier and thick to the point I look down. The ground has turned into a sickly crimson ooze, the smell of burnt flesh and rot prompting me to cover my nose quickly to not risk another wave of queasiness. I keep walking, trying to drown out the sound of splashes and squelches as my feet tread through until I stop at a clearing.

The wind picks up to a howl, and I see the mangled corpse of my Shaman before me; more of my surroundings form as more bodies lay atop each other, my parents, my friends...

“Looks like we’ve got everything we wanted, ‘baby’.”

“I wish to be relieved, now.” I shut my eyes, my body visibly trembling. I don’t need to see the speaker of that voice, ”...Please.”

Even though I can feel everything shifting back to normal, I keep my eyes shut and bury my head into my knees.

Shakily, I utter many prayers as tears roll down my cheeks, Please, forgive me.

A/N:

Kosya - Xaranian formal address for a stranger, if you do not know their name.

Strength refers to the Arcana tarot card of Strength, often depicted as a female lioness.

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“Rise, Eridæus.”

The voice is different now ... was it a male’s voice? Regardless, I stay in my position; I needed to recover from the previous session.

“I need a moment.” I insist, barely able to keep my voice steady.

“You’re not allowed that it is time for you to stand.”

I bristle at the pushiness of this kosya, ”Why am I not allowed to have a moment to compose myself?”

No answer. Taking that as a form of refusal, I remained in my spot, “If you give me an hour, I will be ready for whatever trial you intend for me now.”

“I will give you a minute to stand up before I force you to.”

Slowly, I raise my head at him, feeling far too appalled to acknowledge my eyes were still red and swollen from crying, ”...Am I right to believe that you are threatening me?”

The robed man’s eyes flicker, “It is not a threat, but an order.”

With a sharp exhale, I wipe my eyes and stand up, “What is it that you want?”

“She wants you to show another side of yourself. Are you proficient in combat?”

“I am a medic, that is not my specialty; I know the basics taught to me by my tribe, and I’ve had Lushiyo train me a couple of times.”

His chuckle has me more on edge as he replies, “It didn’t have to entail physical combat.”

“I am tiring of these mental games; I wish to return to my bunker.”

“I cannot allow that.”

I can feel my hand heating up from a faint aura, the cards in my pouch pulsating as I draw from their power, “I refuse to fight you.”

The robed man procures a metal spear engraved with symbols I don’t recognize and points the bladed end at my throat, “Even if your life is on the line?”

“No, if you make the first move on me, then I will fight. But I will not initiate a fight with you, you cannot force me to. If you wish to have a fight with me, by words or by weapons, then you will be the one to start it.”

The kosya tilts his head to the side, his facial covering sliding down as he flashes me a crooked smile, “That sounds like something the others could exploit from you.”

“Then let them try,” I step forward, “There is no point in this; bloodshed shouldn’t be recklessly performed, it should only be done so if necessary. Fighting through words is meaningless if it’s not out of necessity, as well. I do not see why your Overseer wants this.”

There’s another uneasy silence between us as he de-materializes his spear, “So you’ve never had a moment where you needed to fight for yourself.”

“No, I have, but I refuse to engage in it at this current moment. What I experienced with Lushiyo is not something I seek out or wish to replicate.”

I slowly exhale out from my nose, trying to calm myself back down, “Is there truly no way for me to be allowed back to my bunker?”

“That would be correct.”

Another silence falls upon us and I grit my teeth in thought and slight annoyance, ”...So I am supposed to fight, hence why you won’t allow me to leave? Allowing me to leave means no fight has occurred, and at least through this, She gets me in a fight.”

“She finds your insistence on certain subjects interesting.”

“I am a man of my culture,” I look off to the side, frowning, ”...I’ll submit to a physical fight, then. But only a friendly spar.”

The kosya takes on some form of a battle stance as he resummons his metal spear once more, “You seem displeased by that. It’s quite tame.”

“It’s unnecessary, that is why I am bothered,” I mutter a brief incantation as a faint, golden aura glows through my palms, “The Arcana gave man intelligence for a reason. I am not training by doing this, I am fighting for entertainment. It is a sin.”

The moment I take my stance, the man does not hesitate to lunge at me with a swiftness I’ve only seen in demons. The spear seems to spark with a form of magic I’ve never seen before as he drives the blade towards my chest; immediately, I sidestep him, the blade just grazing the shoulders of my cloak, before discharging a small, concentrated beam of light across his face.

I hear a sickly snap as his neck cracks slightly, but as the robes covering his face slide off, my heart skips a beat as I see only his eyes as he readjusts his neck to its original position with ease. He has no face, he’s just a featureless shadow with an unnerving ebb and flow as it morphs into faces I do not recognize.

With all my strength, I raise a shield to protect myself and stand my ground, “I thought we agreed to a friendly spar.”

A chuckle mixed in with a guttural growl escapes the kosya, “You’re so out of touch with the world.”

“You are mistaken,” I can feel my pouch moving as I try to draw from the ferocity of Strength herself. “I chose to stay centered while others do not.”

This seems to irritate him as he darts towards me again; although I brace for it, he shatters through my shield, the force throwing me against the wall. I can barely process my surroundings as I see a now shadowy figure rushing towards me, his spear aimed straight at my chest. Shouting in pain, I summon the shield one last time, straining against the force of his attack.

Just as I’m about to keel over, he withdraws, causing me to fall onto the metal floor, “Your session is over now, She has seen enough.”

I watch the robes reorient back onto him, obscuring his features once more, “I shall escort you to your bunker.”

A/N:

″Yavee Tarrox Xeiniir, grom’ushukinya saborrox neikai. Yavee Tarrox Xeiniir, grom’karusukinyar’ broxkii ya.” - A Xaranian Shaman incantation used to draw from the power of the tarot Arcana and seek for their guidance. Literally translates to “I invoke you, Great Tarot, invoke you for I have not been pious. Great Tarot, show (me) my wrongs.”

Kosya/kosyii - formal honorific for a stranger whose name is unknown, kosyii is the plural form.

Miir - honorific for teacher/mentor.

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The tarot cards dance effortlessly between my palms; drawing from their power, I feel the warmth of their golden aura coursing through my veins. My eyes still stained with tears and my arms sore from the fight left an unpleasant physical and emotional twinge of pain on my conscience.

″Yavee Tarrox Xeiniir, grom’ushukinya saborrox neikai. Yavee Tarrox Xeiniir, grom’karusukinyar’ broxkii ya.” I murmur over and over as the movement of the cards swirling pouring from my bag and spiraling around me causes a wind that moves my hair. A presence taps its hand on my shoulder, the cue to open my eyes and read the three cards in front of me: The Star lays reversed, Temperance lays reversed, The Moon illuminates with an iridescence in its upright position.

″Xae,” I nod solemnly, “I have sinned. I fought an unnecessary fight, I let myself be deceived into something I could have chose to not let this kosya influence me. I needed to listen to The Moon and her voice of logic, but I failed.”

The cards slow down to a halt, gently floating back down onto the ground into a neat pile for me to collect. As I usher them gently into my pouch, uttering my thanks, I lean my head back against the wall, “The people of this place are something beyond me, I believe. Whether it’s their cultural values that take what I’ve known and inverse them like the Arcana themselves, or their methods of obtaining what they want ... they are something that is almost worrisome as The Devil himself.”

Staring up at the ceiling of the room, I reflect on my past memories; doing everything in my power to forget the moment I’d succumb to sin, ”...I will see them all again soon. I will be around the people I am familiar with, the home I am familiar with, the friends I love, and Lushiyo. I must stay centered, that is key here. For their sake, that is what I must do.”

I hear the sound of footsteps approaching my bunker, and silence myself, but straighten my posture in case something is needed of me. Two robed kosyii enter and I can only presume it’s the two I’ve encountered as I spot the familiar set of sharp teeth as one of them partially removes their facial covering.

“How have you been recovering, Eridæus?” the female kosya asks, staring quizzically at my Tarot card pouch.

“I am fine. Is there is something I must do for today? Another trial?”

“She has no orders for you now,” my former opponent answers, his grin widening, “But you’ve certainly turned heads. Well done.”

I bristle at this, “I appreciate the compliments, then. I promise I will let either of you know if I need anything, otherwise, I believe my wounds are fine.”

The female kosya chuckles, “No other requests, at all?

“No, thank you. I will be fine on my own, I needed to practice some spells regardless.”

They both stare at me in silence, and a part of me wants to beg them to leave; haven’t they had their fill of analyzing me as such? They claimed I had left a sufficient profile for their Overseer, surely this was just becoming ridiculous at this point.

“I am sorry, but is there something I am not aware of?” I ask after another minute of silence passes by us, “I am not sure why you are still here unless I am needed for another session.”

“You’re interesting, Eridæus,” the female finally responds before turning her back towards me and gesturing for the male accompanying her to follow suit. “Very interesting.”

Finally, they leave the room, the sense of privacy offsetting the foreboding sense of loneliness lurking with a twisted form of comfort. I could try to contact Lushiyo again, perhaps even Asra-miir, but the one thing that halts me from enacting such thoughts is the face of being listened or watched by these kosyii.

Though I was taught how to deal with outsiders, there will always be a strong comfort in being with one’s familiars--friends and family alike. These kosyii seem to exploit their ability to invade others’ privacy and it is not something I wish to experience too often. There are other parts of myself I am certain they wish to see from me, but I will be diligent in keeping them hidden.

My safety lies with those I cherish.

A/N:

kosya/kosyii - formal honorific for a stranger if their name is not known. kosyii is plural.

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“So...” I purse my lips, trying to understand everything, “Then this is a form of Hallow’s Eve? We are supposed to play a trick or treat of some sort?”

The female kosya nods her head, “Yes, She is eager to see the kind of mask you wear. Though, I suppose, we’ve already seen that haven’t we?”

“Yes,” I adjust my monocle, not approving of this conversation. “Of course.”

“If you do not require anything,” she begins to exit my bunker, “Then, feel free to do as you like. The other contestants are also given time to figure out how they’ll manifest this.”

As soon as the door shuts, I notice a piece of paper on the desk nearby. I blink, confused as to how it got there, and when I open my eyes again, there are now an assortment of crafting objects littering the desk. Scissors, glue, paper mache, a mold cast, fur, feathers...

″...My mask,” I slowly take a seat, resting the side of my head onto my palm. ”...Grom’shiya.”

These kosyii were dubious at best, I did not wish to reveal all of myself to them, but I needed something that encompassed who I was. I furrow my brows in deep thought; the image was there but how could I translate it into the physical realm?

Then, a realization, ”...Ah, yes, it was always there, wasn’t it?”

I start working on the mask, starting the tedious process of layering the making the mask mold of my face and layering the glue and newspaper to form the hard shell. I was grateful for my minor spell practices, as I used a minor flame spell to affix everything together more efficiently than without it.

The shell was finally complete and as I finish coating the shell with black matte paint, I stare at the decorations littered across the desk, Just what embellishments do I choose to best express this image?

I remember the faceless ebb and flow of the kosya who forced me to combat him; constant shifting of shadowy blacks and dark grays to the point it was as if he was featureless yet not. Something about that image drew me in...

"...Yes, I understand it now."

Closing my eyes, I put all of my concentration onto the mask, projecting the image from memory onto it but I choose to change it. Rather than the shadows, I wish for the flowing and oscillating of light. The sun, the heavens, the eyes of man ... all the light of the world, granted by The Arcana to guide. My energy drains, I can feel my strength leaving my body as I finally open my eyes, to see if the spell worked.

What was once a hard paper mache shell painted in black had become something entirely. Though the black base shone through, various tints of warm, welcoming white, gold, pale yellows, pale red, and orange were pulsating throughout the mask. In some instances it the light would shine and ebb so fiercely like it were the sun, in others it would merely glow alight, with symbols of wellness and health etching onto the dark, ebony matte paint. Last to show in the cycle were the various animals and gods representing strength, some I did not recognize, but I could occasionally see the lioness, Strength's, features onto the mask as well.

Delicately, I puncture attachment holes into the mask and after cutting a piece of hemp rope to size, I thread it through and place the mask over my face. Looking into the nearby mirror, the result is a success--it is the upright version of the kosyii's faces. Where one lies in darkness, shadow, unknown, uncertainty, and ambiguity; the mask crafted ebbs and flows with light, the tangible, the known, guidance, and clarity.

"Thank you for your guidance as always," I get on my knees and murmur a thankful prayer, "Thank you, Moon and Priestess, for reminding me what the true center is."

I stand back up, hearing the sound of my bunker door opening; turning around, the female kosya from before approaches me yet again, "I see you're ready, Eridæus."

Perhaps it was just coincidence, but I could have sworn I heard a hiss escape her slightly, "Very interesting mask you chose. She will definitely be pleased. Come with me, the others are waiting. We are hosting a farewell party, your last day here is soon."

I nod, "Then, I will do my diligence to attend."

I then follow close behind her leaving the bunker; whatever happens now, I am well-prepared to face it.

I step into the contestants’ hall, seeing the whole place littered with various Hallow’s Eve decor; pumpkins, bats, spider-webs, the dim lighting of candles setting up a celebratory yet grim ambiance to the place. There are a few people I recognize from my initial visit to the facility, but I can barely discern the other contestants among their variety of masks obscuring their faces.

I head over to the table with food, taking for what seems to be for the final time, a bowl of bone broth with some bread before sitting down at a table off to the side, slowly eating as I reflect on my time here. This place ... was run by a form of magic, a magic that drew upon the many kosyii souls, as they cry, laugh, dance, and celebrate their own form of party, their own form of festival, unaware of the featureless, robed humanoids observing in the dark with interest.

What is it like, I wonder in thought, To be unaware of the other side of the coin? To separate what is beyond in reality to the escapism in your head? As I chose to stay in the center as the Arcana foretold, what is it like to be consumed by the dark? And for the light?

Suddenly, footsteps are approaching me, and I snap out of my daydream; staring up from my bowl of broth I see another robed kosya approaching me. Though, something about this one seems different. She carries herself with an authoritative poise, her robes are adorned with various markings, and the pendant she wears, while I do not recognize the symbols, seems to be larger, brighter than the female and male kosyii I’ve encountered throughout my stay. Everything but her eyes is obscured; it is impossible for me to discern if the markings of a lionness I see are her mask or perhaps ... a manifestation of the featureless ebb and flow I saw from the other kosyii.

She takes a seat next to me, glancing over at me in a fascinated curiosity, “Eridæus Vlasokh Akoyrotets ... of course you would be the one not indulging yourself.”

I dip my bread into the broth and take a bite before answering her, “Is watching the crowd have fun in their own relishing not a form of ‘indulgence’, kosya...”

″...Sæn.” the last word leaves me, bridging between hesitance and certainty. I felt as if she was who I thought she was but I couldn’t be sure...

She chuckles, “Your mask is different, too. I guess I should have known with a person who revealed not a lot about themself, but not a little either throughout this whole competition.”

We sit in silence, watching the other contestants for a while before I ask, ”...What are your intentions, kosya-sæn?”

“We, my disciples and I, wish to learn about worlds and their people,” her eyes change color, flickering with an unknown emotion, “And that is all there is to it.”

I take another bite of bread in thought, ”...Yes, but it is dubious at times.”

“But maybe it is only dubious because you’re just that different from many of the others we’ve seen here,” she counters, not taking her eyes off the other contestants, “You have to admit, you did have a little bit of fun, yes?”

“Yes, this whole place was educational for myself, at the very least,” I nod, “But perhaps it is just my culture that calls. There are some here I wish to help.”

“Maybe you can’t help them, maybe you can,” her shoulders shrug, “Either way, you’ve clearly left an impression as much as they have.”

She stands up and extends her hand towards me, “Come now, it’s your last day here, Eridæus. Celebrate, won’t you? Even if it’s just a little dance?”

I stare at her hand, almost frozen in my spot, ”...Nenai, forgive me. That is something I reserved for my arrival home, not here.”

Her hand falls to her waist and though I can only discern her eyes narrowing slightly, I hear her chuckling faintly, “There’s so much left unsaid about you, Eridæus ... but I like it. Well, suit yourself.”

She stands up to leave, her robe flowing effortlessly as she turns around and heads out into the crowd of contestants. I finish the rest of the bread and broth in a peaceful, content silence. The old teachings of centerhood always spoke of this feeling; serenity among chaos; lonely, but without sorrow...

Eventually, a loud, droning chime indicates that the masquerade is over. The kosyii watching us move from their spots and begin escorting the contestants to their bunkers--it would appear some of them are drunk.

I stand up, placing aside my empty bowl near the designated trash area, and head back inside, getting comfortable in my cot. The sleep that overcomes me is like a wave of comfort, like the river tickling our feet as I wade with Lucio in the Vesuvian canals. I do not know how much time has passed before I am awake and I hear the sound of my bunker opening.

The kosya steps in, “Your stop is here, Eridæus, we’re in Vesuvia now.”

I nod, neatly arranging my bed and exiting the facility. As I’m greeted by familiar, warm rays of sunlight, I’m taken by surprise as Lucio and his two dogs dash towards me and pick me in up in a tight, loving hug.

“THAT WAS SO HORRIBLE I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!” he sobs loudly into my chest, as I laugh and give him multiple kisses along his nape,

″Xae, xae, I promise you’ll come with me next time,” I murmur into his ear, “Say... I want to dance when we get home.”

Lucio drew his head back, “You do?”

″Xae.”

He wipes the tears off his eyes, wraps his arm around my waist, and holds in me in a tango position, “We can dance ... right now.”

“For just this one time ... yes, let’s.”