Every time he died, he relived the day that led up to this moment. Jude’s only hypothesis was that they wanted to add weight to the deaths, as the unbelievable torment was apparently not enough already.

  That was how he ended up here, in front of the fountain for the fifth time, ready to bash his hand against the stone edges in frustration.

  To be fair, he had figured out plenty of things.

  Firstly, they years did not exist. Their longest measurement of times were called cycles. Currently, they were on the 43rd Emerald Cycle, but he was not bothered to try find a timeline. While he was interested in the history, when you were being hunted it was paramount you focused on trying to find a way to survive.

  The city’s name was Derhor, and within an hour, it would be besieged. One of those arriving was his worst nightmare, and she would always track him down as her first target no matter where he tried to escape to. All of them seemed to wear clothing unlike anything inside of the city. That girl that had tried to attack him was part of the group that had organised the attack for the sole purpose of exposing the Honoured – their version of the Blessed – because there was a secret inside the tower next to the temple that exposed their secret dealings.

  It did not bring him any closer to figuring out a plan though. And dying and reliving an entire day was not fun at all. He did not want to die again.

  The Trial seemed hand-made as a torture mechanism. Jude grumbled, feeling the warmth of the sun slowly fade and realising that he could not waste any time. This city actually seemed nice, but now all that he could think when he looked at it was the sensation of death.

  His only goal now was to find one of these Honoured, and convince them to kill Cyra.

  Every time he saw her, he could not help but lose control of himself. Remaining logical was the way to win, Jude was sure of it, but after what she had done to him it was practically impossible.

  That was probably the challenge that the Trial was trying to make him achieve. Conquer his trauma, or whatever. While adding more of it by making him suffer.

  Well, there was no time to moan and complain. He began to trudge forward, and as expected, soon the same person in purple robes stopped him. On his second try, Jude had tried to warn the authorities through this guy but as expected, he had been disregarded pretty quickly. The man had definitely heard plenty of lies from other children and had thought of it as an attempt to distract from the fact that he was going to break curfew.

  This time, he offhandedly mentioned a street that he had learned the name of, and the man had let him go.

  There was plenty of things Jude could do with the fact that he went back in time. He could learn the man’s name and then surprise him, but saw very little point in that. If anything, that was likely to make him furious instead.

  Whistling, Jude went and stood by the corner absentmindedly, and waited for Eva to drag him in. She was probably the most volatile, unpredictable player out of all of them. His second try had almost fallen apart when she made a grab for the dagger.

  “You’re one of them aren’t you? The raiders. What are you doing here so early?”

  He solemnly met her eyes through the veil, “Thank goodness I found some of you guys. I’m a deserter. They’ve decided to break the deal, and are just going to start attacking the city.”

  Eva took the bait immediately, and he felt a glow of satisfaction. Acting was always fun.

  “What? When?”

  “In ten minutes or so. They’ve got a Paragon with them. You need to tell the Honoured!”

  Cyra was a Paragon when his father had met her.

  “Oh gods. I’ll go get my father. He’s one of the people in charge.”

  “Eva, what is going on in there?”

  The same short stubby man, that he knew as Azrien, walked in and saw the same sight as before. Except this time, he wasn’t holding a knife towards his daughter’s chest.

  “Papa, it happened just like I said it would. You should have believed me!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’ve betrayed us. This boy here is one of their deserters. In just a few minutes, they’re coming to take the city!”

  He looked at Jude disbelievingly, who just gave a grave, worried nod.

  “One of them knows I’m gone. She’s going to come after me. I need your help.” he practically begged.

  “Come then, I’ll take you to a safe place.”

  Not again.

  “But she can track me in there. Please, tell me you have a Bl- Honoured that can fight them.”

  His face turned strange, “You said that they’re just going to start attacking then, right? Come with me.”

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  As part of his disguise, he did not resist, but this time Azrien sent his daughter to go alert the rest of the people before heading through the city. Jude could not help but shoot nervous glances at the wall. The first time he’d seen them emerge was during his third attempt where he arrived in front of the Guild and realised it was closed before frantically trying to find someplace else to hide. Leading the charge was a man with a large axe, dressed up in churning armour. Cyra was already inside the city, but he had never been able to see her, and only made a move once the bells were rung.

  They did not appear to be heading towards the cellar. Instead, Azrien approached the visage of the temple, and he noticed someone join him from behind. Another veiled person, although he could not quite make out if they were male or female.

  “Good to see you come so quickly.”

  The figure did not respond until they were right next to the temple. Then they stopped.

  “How long do we have?” they croaked, sounding so gravelly that he almost thought that they weren’t human.

  Right after they finished that sentence, he heard a boom in the direction of the wall. Soon after, bells began to ring.

  Out from the tower, several responded to the call. Their dark shapes leapt from building to building, and he heard a dark chuckle.

  Something was telling him that things were not going the way he wanted them to. But before he could leave, the silhouette merely brushed a hand against his side, and Jude felt his entire body grow stiff.

  “Do we have to? He is just a child.”

  “You know better than most, Azrien, that some sacrifices have to be made for justice to prevail. This is for the good of the many. And he was one of them, anyways.”

  Are you kidding me. It was more of a statement than a question, as the connection between his mind and his body was slowly severed in a burning end.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cyra standing there in the distance as the silhouette rushed towards the tower.

  She simply shook her head.

  Jude woke up again, in front of the fountain, after another round of memories, so furious that he did end up smacking the rock. All it did was hurt him more. Here he was, thinking those lot were the heroic rebels. And they were the ones that betrayed him.

  The disappointed gesture from that horrible woman was the worst of all. He was tempted to just do nothing, just to lie down and rest until she came to finish him.

  One thing was for sure. Anything to do with them was ruled out.

  Perhaps going straight to the temple would be a better solution.

  Still in a bad mood, he rushed towards it, avoiding the place where the purple-robed man was waiting to ambush him. They had done their very best to make it look magnificent. Marble steps led up to a ornate, mahogany door, opening into golden statues. Trying his best not to scowl at the priests sitting upon the stairs, he walked inside without much issue. Last time he had actually not explored this place that well. Various shrines were dotted throughout, and as he knelt in front of one of them, he read the description.

  ‘To Ashuan, the legendary Celestial of the future, whose Presence adheres closely with her people. Those gifted by her can see through the endless waters.’

  Moving around, he read a few of them. They all were quite similar, referring to this god they called a Celestial. Huh. Some of them shared small parallels with the deities he knew, but none were exactly the same. Looked like he was right. The people shifted gods as quickly as he bought new clothes.

  “Are you here for a prayer request, young man?” a kindly, stooped man interrupted his musings.

  He actually had not much of a plan, and just came here on a whim. Thinking to himself, he came up with a response quickly.

  “Not really. I believe I have received a vision, from the great Ashuan herself.” Jude prayed that he had not mispronounced the name.

  “Oh, I see. And what would be the contents of it?”

  Miraculously, the kind old man did not look at him as if he was crazy. That was progress.

  “The city is going to be under attack. In a little bit under half an hour. Certain people think that the incredible Honoured would seize power and had organised an attack to withdraw something from the tower over there.”

  For a few seconds, the old man did not speak. The little slither of information he should not know was most likely why.

  “Where are your parents?”

  “They’re away…”

  “You know, young man, I am sworn to take all approaches related to our divine seriously. What you just said… If you are sure, then I will bring you to one of our own Honoured, who has just come back with a meeting with the Captains of the Watch, and his Talent, enhanced by Ashuan herself, will divine such an event will occur.”

  Sometimes, the most useless Talents come in handy.

  Luck was finally back with him, at least just a little. Although, he prayed that he would not receive something like that for himself. Almost all of these gifts were unique. Most Blessed had one, the Imperials usually had at least two, but each granted unique abilities that were unlike any other.

  But the fact that this guy’s Talent was basically the same as the enchanted weighing scales from earlier proved that some were far better than others.

  “I am prepared to face any consequences if I am lying.”

  He could tell the priest was just trying to scare him, and saw the plain surprise at his confidence. The old man wavered, unsure on what to do.

  “Then, well. I suppose you should follow me.”

  That was how Jude found himself being led past the front of the temple, and through many breathtaking wonders. Once again, if he had not been in a hurry, he might have had ended up gawping at the amount of wealth concentrated in such a place. Entire walls had carved artworks made entirely of jewellery depicting epic battles. Topaz poles dripped gold, lined next to tables covered in expensive cups and plates.

  If it wasn’t all fake, he would have itched to grab some and run for it. The sheer disparity seemed almost unfair. In his eyes, at some point all of it just became terribly gaudy.

  Behind all of this, what appeared to be a group of children wearing white tunics surrounded a man in white and gold.

  “Hazen!”

  A tall man with a moustache spun around, and snorted unpleasantly.

  “What is this time? Do you have another policy you wish to change? I am absolutely ready to spend even more of our coffers on the fruitless endeavours that you so foolishly started.”

  Jude felt a little aggrieved on behalf of the old man, who faltered at Hazen’s harsh words.

  “Th-this young man. He’s r-received a vision.”

  Hazen raised his hands, as if speechless before letting them drop, exasperated. He walked up and seized Jude by the shirt.

  One breath from me, and you’ll be dead.

  He did not look like a particularly strong Blessed, and caught off guard Jude could probably finish him if he wanted to.

  But he knew that if he did not want to die again, he would need this man to vouch for him with the captains. Whoever they were.

  “You should know better, boy, than to take advantage of doddering old men. What happened to your respect for the priesthood?”

  “N-no, but.”

  Jude decided to talk before Hazen could keep shouting, “Listen, sir. My vision speaks of people who think that the Honoured are going to overthrow the Council. I know that you wouldn’t do it, but that’s why they hired people to attack the city. To get something from the tower.”

  Hazen’s contempt evaporated.

  “What did you say?”

  He was nearly ready to accept being killed again, before the Honoured exhaled heavily. He closed his eyes and Jude saw a sigil manifest upon his forehead. Another thing that he had never seen before.

  Then, suddenly alert, Hazen clasped his forehead, “Argh! I won’t be able to make it in time.”

  Panic razed his eyes.

  “Why did you not come earlier?”

  The kind old man faltered, “So, it’s true?”

  “What do you think? I don’t know why Ashuan gave this boy of all people this vision, but we’ve got almost no time.”

  But before any of them could do anything, the noise of the wall of the temple crumpling rumbled, and Jude stopped the priest from falling. Hazen jolted forward, only to release a chilling cry as something grazed his arm. The pillars around them fractured into a multitude of rocky debris that hurled in every direction, infesting the air with tendrils of dust.

  All the wealth, every hour of dedication poured into each and every artwork, fell to pieces in an instant.

  Stepping through the chaos, Cyra widened her lips. He already despised her, but the smile was getting more and more painful to look at. Considering he knew what was coming. Jude felt a shudder rise from the very ground he stood on, as the ceiling struggled to remain standing.

  But the most interesting thing of all was Hazen’s reaction.

  “You…”

  The blood seemed to have sunk into his knees, leaving a dry husk behind as he trembled.

  “You’re supposed to be dead. I killed you.”

  “Do I look dead?”

  Before he could understand the implications, shards struck everywhere, and the entire roof came falling down. His only chance at survival was too shaken to do anything.

  At least it was quick.

  This time however, the beginnings of a plan began to form in his head.