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Chapter 151: Trials of the Divine
🕑 Added 2023-03-30 16:35:06 +0000 UTCThe moment the voice boomed out, ancient and resounding, Jack’s world changed. He felt the familiar lurch of teleportation for an instant before everything stabilized again.
He wasn’t in a shrine anymore. He stood alone in the middle of a large, dome-shaped room, like an upturned bowl. Stone surrounded him on all sides, with a single sun mushroom hanging from the top of the ceiling, around fifty feet above his head, showering the room in still, yellow light.
Jack looked around with wide eyes, realization dawning. “Shit,” he said. He couldn’t stop a chuckle. “Curiosity killed the cat, I guess.”
He didn’t lose heart at the sudden teleportation. The voice had mentioned a trial—and Nauja had said that trials were tests, hiding danger and opportunity. There would be a way through; he just had to find it.
However, the more he observed the room, the more his frown deepened. There was no door. No wall with letters, no windows, no enemy, no nothing. Only cold stone surrounded him—entombed him.
If I die here, will anyone ever find me? he wondered, but even he didn’t know where he was, let alone Nauja and Brock.
Thankfully, the trial didn’t leave him waiting long. The same voice as before boomed throughout the room, so loud that Jack felt an urge to clap his ears.
“A divine gift lies in wait, looking for its successor. Five trials stand between you and great power. Prove yourself worthy of wielding and protecting it, or die. The trials will be adjusted to your level.”
Simple and succinct. Strangely, Jack wasn’t pacified.
“Excuse me,” he shouted back, “can you tell me where this is?”
The voice did not reply. Jack was left alone with his thoughts, running the previous words over and over in his mind until he realized something. Wait. It said “level.” This place is aware of the System, the eradication, the Immortals. It wasn’t simply forgotten. They chose to remain hidden even after the Old Ones were forced away…but why?
He had no more time to ponder. Suddenly, mist filled the room, manifesting out of thin air. Jack braced himself for battle, looking around warily, but no enemy came. The silence was as crisp as ever, broken only by his breath, the beating of his heart, the blood drumming on his temples.
A song cut through the mist. It was ephemeral and light, the voice carried on clouds, each note sung with unparalleled beauty and depth. So relaxing, it was, that Jack felt his entire body loosen, the knots in his back untying, his muscles turning into jelly, and euphoria coursing through his heart. If there was a heaven, this is how angels would sing.
He lay down, so engrossed in the music he couldn’t think. The mists receded around him, revealing a palace of pleasure. Heavenly delicacies sat on golden plates, fruit soft enough to melt in his mouth, meat that could lace his entire body with energy, youth, and virility.
He wasn’t alone. People surrounded him on all sides. Their names eluded him, as did their past, but he remembered they were bosom friends, people he’d been through thick and thin together. He loved them almost more than himself.
Jack lay on cushions, stretched out and leaning to the side, where a platter of apples awaited him. He grabbed one and bit into it. The taste was heavenly. After this, how could he bear to consume anything else? Even the water he tried, from a blue bottle made of clouds, was made of liquid crystal, so pure that he felt all negative feelings wash out of his heart.
The song was still there, sung by a striking woman on a different set of cushions. She was one of his bosom friends, but she was also more.
She was beauty itself. Her hair fell down her shoulders to reach her waist. Her expression moved with the song, fully absorbed as she was, and her voice lit a fire inside him that made even the heavenly apples seem inconsequential.
This was love. Deep, true love. He felt something inside him resist, deny the feeling, but he couldn’t refuse his heart.
The woman poured her soul into singing. Jack couldn’t quite catch the lyrics, but they spoke directly to his heart, recounting beauty, passion, breezy days, and hot nights. Each part of the song took a chord in Jack’s heart and explored it, caressed it, massaged it, kissed it. The most wonderful feelings in life were presented, expanded, and fulfilled. Every verse a story, so true that no other story could ever reach their height, and sung in a voice and way that could never be surpassed.
It was perfect.
Jack’s eyes welled with tears, such was the beauty of her song, and his heart opened wide, reveling in the music, expanding until it could fit the entire world.
He lost track of time. Or, rather, time lost its meaning. Before this song, nothing else mattered. The world was born and developed only to reach this moment in time, for this song to flow out of this woman’s lips.
When the music came to an end, Jack was melted into a puddle of emotions. He felt every emotion there could be, overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of life, its ups and down, its struggles and rewards, the gems that hid in rainy nights and gave them meaning.
His friends felt the same, and their happiness bounced off each other until it could increase no more.
The woman turned to Jack, regarding him alone. “Did you like it?” she asked, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I loved it.” The words left his lips of their own, true beyond the shadow of a doubt.
She smiled beautifully. He didn’t know his heart could melt any more, but it did. “I have something for you,” she said, removing a small, golden sphere from her dress. A triangle with a dot in its center was painted on its surface. “I made it especially for you. A gift as precious as my song.”
“What is it?” he asked, receiving the sphere with tender care.
“Why don’t you scan it and find out?” she replied, smiling.
Jack regarded the sphere. Indeed, why wouldn’t he scan it? The song was still inside him, his love all-encompassing. Nothing could be wrong in the world. Everything ugly was simply another facet of beauty undiscovered. In this palace, surrounded by the warmest emotions known to man, he had nothing to fear.
So why didn’t he scan it?
He had this awareness that he wasn’t supposed to. It seeped out from inside him, making him hesitate until he was certain it was wrong. He shouldn’t do it.
But how much did it matter? Her song had filled his heart. She had given him the greatest gift there was, and here was another. Even if it was wrong, could he really refuse her this little favor?
But it was wrong.
“What is the matter, my love?” she said, inching closer. Her perfume reached Jack’s nostrils. His brain turned pink. His every cell shivered with joy.
“I—”
“Shh, don’t talk,” she said again, laughing. “Just scan it. I made it with so much effort. Please?”
To refuse would be to break her heart. However, to refuse himself would be the same. “Can’t I just open it?” he asked weakly, his voice coming out a low whisper.
“No, you silly!” She laughed again. “How can you open it without scanning it first?”
She’s right, he realized. I should scan it.
But it is wrong.
The insistence of wrongness was so deeply planted inside him that it persisted, rearing its head again and again, refusing to be side-tracked.
On one hand, he knew with absolute certainty that scanning this sphere was wrong. On the other…how bad could it be? Didn’t she deserve for her gift to be appreciated?
Should he betray what he knew was right, or should he betray her feelings?
“Come on, Jack!” his friends shouted from the side, more voices joining in. Some were jesting, other laughing, all filled with joy. “Let us see! Scan it and open it up!”
“It looks so pretty!”
“Don’t keep her waiting or she’ll go away!”
They all burst out laughing at this last, well-intended comment, while the woman by his side blushed.
Jack felt so much momentum around him directed at scanning the sphere. To refuse would be to break the flow, to shatter such a beautiful moment, to endure his friends’ and lover’s disapproving stare.
But to scan it would be wrong.
He… He should scan it. He couldn’t possibly ruin this moment for everyone.
That was not right. He had a path. A way. His friends would be fine. But to betray his path would be to break both it and himself. To lose everything.
“I’m sorry, everyone,” Jack said, raising his head and laughing. “You know I can’t do this.” He returned the gift to the woman, whose gaze was deeply hurt. “I’m sorry if I’m ruining some surprise. If you can open it for me, I will love it all the same.”
He smiled widely. And, before anyone could reply, the forms around him turned into mist, the apples, the water, the friends, the lover. The golden sphere with the dotted triangle remained last, and as it disintegrated, Jack caught glimpse of a live scorpion inside before it, too, disappeared.
He was left alone in the mist, mind struggling to comprehend what had occurred. That had been an illusion. He had remained himself, but reality had been bent to present him with a dilemma.
He suppressed the growl that threatened to rise from his chest.
But the song was real. It echoed inside him still. He couldn’t remember the lyrics, or the voice, or the music, but the soul of the song was etched into his heart, the perfect stories, the full emotions he was capable of experiencing.
Nothing would ever top it. Everything else he ever felt would be inferior to that one song, to the absolute peak of life. But that was okay. A bittersweetness enveloped him then, an appreciation of what he had experienced, nostalgia for what had irreversibly passed.
Without Jack knowing it, at that moment, his smile resembled the one of the statue in the shrine.
“Will trial, passed,” the voice boomed out again, drawing Jack back to the present. Then, it took a more educating tone. “Good intentions and the will to uphold them are the foundation of a full heart. But choosing the right path is meaningless if you cannot see it.”
The mists changed again. They swam and coiled around him, flashing through a thousand shapes before settling on one.
An expansive maze stretched out before him. He viewed it from above, like he was hovering on the ceiling, but he could also see himself standing at the entrance. Twisting paths led outward, merging and branching, ending in dead-ends or circling around themselves. A light glistened in the very center of the maze—the exit—but Jack was nowhere near it. The sheer complexity of the shape before him was more than he could handle.
I have to solve this maze, he realized, looking at it from above. He set to following the paths with his eyes, crossing out mentally the ones that didn’t work, but they were simply too many, their branching endless. His brain wasn’t capable of tracking them all.
An hourglass appeared by the maze, blue and made of crystal. It turned, as if by an invisible hand, and the sand tumbled down, siphoning through the tiny gap. Slowly but surely, it was diminishing.
Jack fervently set to work. He sent the mini version of himself exploring, hoping to stumble onto a good path by luck. He tried extending outward from the exit or inward from the entrance. He followed paths that were going in the right direction and ones that went directly opposite. Many times, he came close. Once, only one wall separated the path he’d chosen from one that led to the exit, but that one wall had no openings, no way to cross.
The sand tumbled down, and Jack had found no solution. A large part of the maze remained unexplored. He stared, eyes wide, brain feverish with activity, devoting the entirety of his being to the puzzle, but no matter how he searched, he couldn’t find the solution.
The hourglass was almost empty by now, the last grains of sand tumbling down slower.
Jack accepted his failure. He had not found the path.
“There is no solution!” he shouted as the last grain tumbled down, a final gamble that he had no choice but to make.
The maze and hourglass disappeared. The mists returned, as enigmatic as ever, and Jack was gripped by the suffocating awareness of his failure.
“Mental trial, passed barely. Combat trial difficulty will be adjusted accordingly,” the voice came. Jack heaved a huge sigh of relief before processing the last words.
Adjusted? Will that combat trial get harder because I almost failed this one? Hmm. At least, I did pass. Was there really no solution?
He had no way to know, nor was there time.
“Recognizing the right path and choosing to follow it are the prerequisites to a full heart. However, one weakness is enough for doom. The mind means nothing if the body is weak.”
Jack braced himself. However, the mists remained empty. A few moments later, the voice came again.
“Physical trial, passed by virtue of specialization.”
Oh, Jack thought. Well, not that I’ll complain. I wonder if someone with balanced stats could easily pass all three trials—the ones I’ve seen, anyway.
The voice came again.
“The absence of weakness is the first step. However, the road to mastery is fraught with conflict. Without power, one’s impact on life is insignificant. All is for naught.”
Comments
BluEarth
"However, the road to mastery is fraught with conflict." Name drop
BluEarth
This is not the greatest song in the world, no. This is just a tribute! Couldn't remember the greatest song in the world, yeah - no! This is a tribute! To the greatest song in the world!
