The Mythos Trials

Chapter Eight

Finally, she had made it to the last trial.

At first, Gwen couldn't believe it, not after everything she'd just gone through. How many hours had passed? Or had it been days? Weariness seeped from every pore, the pain in her arms and legs varying from the sensation of being stuck with hot pins, to the heaviness of lead. Never had she been so exhausted; not in any of her training sessions, nor any of the missions she had been on. She doubted if she'd be half as tired with them all combined. Fortunately, somewhere between this trial and the last one, the bleeding in her shoulder and back had stopped, leaving only a dull throbbing in its wake.

As if to confirm what Gwen herself was afraid to even hope for, Clotho's voice drifted over her, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. "Congratulations, child. You have completed your final, solitary test. Now it is time for you to prove your skills against one equal to the task."

Her surroundings—this time a series of labyrinthine caves—melted away, replaced by an arena much like the Roman one, only smaller; its walls and stands made of darker stone. Lucas stood at the centre, his charcoal grey long-coat tattered at the hem, jagged cuts and scrapes marring his face. For all that, he looked content, scarlet eyes staring at her with determination, his mouth twisting into a condescending smile. Blood stained his green waist-coat, the white dress shirt with its billowing sleeves underneath soaked a muddy brown with hints of red.

She didn't know what he'd gone through, but there was satisfaction to be had, knowing whatever he'd endured hadn't been easy. All she had to do was take in his haggard appearance to know it was true. Of course, she knew she likely didn't look much better. No doubt this was the reason for his smile.

Let him gloat, she told herself. Let him think I'm worse off of the two of us. Forneus says that's where my true advantage lies—in being underestimated. Time to see if he's right.

So caught up in her introspection was she that she didn't immediately notice when Phenex and Forneus arrived, the former clapping a hand on her shoulder and the other pulling her into a one-armed embrace, careful of her wounded side.

"Gwen, you made it."

Seeing the haunted look in Phenex's eyes, Gwen was given to wonder just how much of her trial he had borne witness to, but there wasn't time to ask. Forneus started to say something when Lachesis and Atropos stepped forward, Clotho between them.

All three Moirai bore identical expressions, somewhere between curious and somber. It was an odd combination, seeing their mouths set in such grim lines with their eye sockets perpetually staring. Gwen couldn't have said what made her believe there was anything besides somberness in their expressions. There was just something about their shuffled gaits, the way their shoulders were drawn back and their hands grasped at the edges of their robes.

Tension hung thick in the air. Forneus and Phenex both moved forward defensively, neither one removing their hands from Gwen's shoulders. Lucas sneered back at them, his posture almost languid in comparison, though it might have been fatigue that made him look so devil-may-care more than any actual smugness. From the amount pooling down his side, Gwen could only guess that he had lost nearly as much blood as she had during his own trials.

"As my dear sister has stated, now that you have exceeded our expectations in trials of your own, you must fulfill the final part of our agreement, and do battle against one another." Lachesis looked from Lucas to Gwen, her mouth puckering at the edges as though concealing a smile. "Whoever comes out the victor will be gifted with that which they seek."

"Before anything, you'll allow me to heal her first," Phenex all but snarled. With the anger that lit his eyes, there was no question that he and Forneus had been forced to watch Gwen's trials, just as she'd feared.