It was not actually her.

  That fact did not make Jude feel any happier, but it did provide a crucial clue. Unless Hazen knew someone that looked exactly like her, they were seeing two very different people. The only line she had spoken, about him being as pathetic as she remembered, was completely out of character. Cyra always kept a kind demeanour with her words, even when standing in the middle of a swathe of corpses. Being able to turn into her, and mimick her Talent to some degree, was one of the most overpowered abilities he had ever heard of. It did not explain why he was always the first target, but it was a start.

  He panted, trying to keep up a steady pace to reach the temple as fast as possible. So far, he had never been in a rush. But now he had a reason to.

  Jude met the priest, but this time Hazen had not arrived yet. That was crucial.

  “Where is the Honoured, then?”

  “Do not worry, he will be here in a while.”

  “I need to know.” he said, deathly serious, “We don’t have much time to waste. I promise you that he won’t rage at you like he usually does.”

  “How do you know that? Our meetings are solely within the temple.” he looked shocked.

  “Ashuan has showed me your own struggle.” Jude put on a mysterious voice, “I need to know where he is meeting with the Captains of the Watch.”

  “I… All right. As far as I know, they meet near the Rim, inside Captain’s Ocean Brew.”

  He received rough directions for where that is, but knew by the time he got there they would be gone. So, Jude returned to the fountain, and cursed the spirit for the sheer unfairness of this Trial. Shaking, he summoned his blade and attempted to plunge it inwards. But despite all that had happened, Jude could not finish the job.

  Was all of this worth it? He could remember each and every time he died perfectly, each sapping at its will and leaving him more and more tired. Even if he did succeed, he had no guarantee that as a Nascent, he could make it to Zola. So many things could go wrong, despite this miserable challenge.

  Even if he did, he would have to join either a Sect or a House. Very few had the capabilities of standing alone.

  Logic proved that all of this was not worth the effort.

  But if he could become even the slightest bit more in control of his own life, that would be enough. None of this pain was real. He could handle it.

  If he was going to die, however, he was going to make her hunt miserable. There was one place Jude had often hidden when he had nowhere else to go. Despite how old this city was, he found a sewer hatch and crawled in.

  For what it was worth, it was better than the putrid tunnels with a river of filth running through it that was the sewers in the Fringes. Instead, it was slightly larger than what he was used to, resembling more of a cavern than a tunnel. A pair of pipes ran through the very middle, emitting a mild scent, but other than that, there was almost no grime splattered on the wall whatsoever.

  He could not help but snicker at what was about to happen. Kneeling next to the pipes, Jude summoned his blade. The sound of the bells reached even the sewers, and soon she came.

  Cyra tore through the ground, landing in front of him, and he saw her wrinkle her nose at the stench. Just seeing her revived his vitriol, yet he kept it down.

  “I know you’re not her.” he said confidently, “Somehow you can take her appearance. Why are you so obsessed with killing me? I don’t care anymore.”

  Her mouth parted in surprise. Jude did not expect an answer, ready to slice the pipe open at any moment.

  “Finally.”

  All emotion vanished. Her body tilted, as if only held up by the strings of a puppet, before leaping through the whole that she had come through.

  Jude was left bewildered, and shockingly, alive.

  He attempted to climb up the side, and eventually found himself at the top again, allowing him to see the full extent of the devastation for the first time. Long patches of wall had fallen into a sea of rubble, while the crescent moon was overshadowed by the light of the blaze that swallowed at least an eighth of the entire city. Plumes of smoke hung in coiling spirals, blistering into artificial clouds of thrashing smog that watched Derhor tear itself apart.

  It was quite tragic, punctuated by the swarms of bedraggled people mourning as the officials in purple robes evacuated them. How were those rebels so stupid? They had condemned their city to utter annihilation, and only cared about discrediting the Blessed as a result. Even though overthrowing the council was wrong, it was better to have a hollow city then no home at all.

  That also brought up another, more pressing question. His attempt to shock the imposter had somehow stopped them from killing him. Yet the trial had not finished. So, did he have to go find them?

  “What are you doing? Join the line!” a very familiar robed man yelled.

  He hesitantly followed the weeping crowd, looking out at where the battle still raged. Blurry outlines flitted in between the smoke, their struggle raining terror down below.

  That was when he noticed another face he remembered. The young woman with the veil. Except her veil was completely gone now, revealing an expression of pure horror. Tears clung to her cheeks, as the weight of guilt descended upon her.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Jude then noticed something peculiar out of the corner of his eye. It was them. The one that had killed him when he had least expected it. And they were walking towards the young woman.

  A scythe was in their hands. Another artefact, a carved flare of hollowed out wood sheathed in the faint thrum of life.

  Those in purple robes moved in, carrying their own weapons, “ Wh-”

  Three quick, consecutive swings, arched in different angles, and the officials collapsed in a clatter of metal. The people at the very back inclined their heads, and some of them screamed. The noise had a ripple effect, and soon the entire crowd had fallen into chaos.

  “Uncle! Stop this madness!”

  “Get out of my way, Evangeline. The entire system of this city needs to be purged. You have not seen what I did. This unfortunate turn of events is what we needed.”

  He considered stepping in. The uncle seemed completely normal, albeit psychopathic and carrying a bloody weapon. But the last thing he wanted to do was die.

  So, Jude turned and fled. Like a coward.

  And barely caught himself from falling into water.

  As he lay there, glaring down at his reflection, Jude felt frustrated. But he realised that he had been expecting this. For after all this time, he finally knew exactly what the Trial wanted of him.

  It wanted him to save the entire city, and stop the disaster.

  When he had felt sympathy for the crowd of people in shambles, his soul had responded. On top of that, he did not have to relive the day again, a sign he was on the right track. What did the spirit expect of him, a hero? All he wanted to do was kill the one that masqueraded as his step-mother, and get his newfound powers.

  Then again, after all the Blessed had done to the world, becoming some revenge-obsessed villain was not ideal.

  So, it looked like he would play the part of a hero after all.

  Jude made his way towards the alehouse, following the rough route that he had been given. It did not take long to find it, despite its unorthodox appearance. While all the other bars or shops had some sort of unique aesthetic behind their designs, Captain’s Ocean Brew stood out by being the worst kept out of them all. Its sign hung haphazardly in a plank of beaten blue, weathered and fraying at the bits, attached to a pier of hollowed out stone. Some sort of mosaic had been engraved onto the front, but it was so poorly done that the waves dimpled against the walls were broken into withering flecks of paint.

  He cautiously propped open the door, and felt the warm breath of a fire envelop his senses. Inside was a quaint arrangement, complete with mostly empty tables, a smattering of individuals scattered around deep in discussion. The entire city was alien to what he was used to, but the bar was most likely the strangest of all.

  Hazen’s pompous look stood out even amongst ordinary clothing. He sat in the corner, next to two others that wore long plain garbs.

  As soon as he entered however, Jude felt the entire room’s attention shift in his direction. He gulped. Honestly, the fact that his clothes stood out had completely slipped his mind in his desire to get out of here. The weight of their stares were suffocating, but he did not move.

  All he had to do was walk in, say something about the attack, and then leave after convincing them. Jude steadied himself as he approached the table in the corner. Luckily, no-one tried to stop him.

  “I need your help.” he whispered, keeping his emotions undisguised so he could look more sincere.

  The most obvious questions surfaced upon each of their looks. Jude did not meet their eyes, waiting as something grabbed him from behind.

  “Why are you bothering my guests?”

  “No, leave him.” a confused voice, laced with authority, commanded.

  The bartender released him, and chatter resumed, although notably more stifled. Hazen was first to speak.

  “How do you know who we are, child?” he hissed.

  He relayed his usual message, with a soulless voice. It had been so many times that he had to repeat it, over and over again, that the words had started getting stale. Jude mentioned the plan to overthrow the Council, but did not say anything about the person he knew would rob the tower.

  The moustached man in question paled, after the same sigil briefly flickered over his forehead. Their leader had already absorbed the shock, accepting his words.

  “So he’s telling the truth then, Hazen.”

  “This could all be a trick. From one of his followers. You know that he can interfere with Magik. Just because he knows a few things does not mean we should trust him!”

  More out-of context clues. It was all so vague and tiring, and at the moment Jude couldn't be asked to figure out the implications. All that mattered was they believed him.

  They left the alehouse behind in a clamour. On the way, Jude explained everything he knew about the forces. Their faces grew far grimmer as a result. As none of them held a presence comparable to the one hunting him, he could only assume none of them were Paragons.

  “Hazen, go sound the bells.”

  Jude knew that they would not let him go, after all he had said, so he asked to go with Hazen. After a moment of indecision, they gave in, and Jude followed him in a spur that led him right to the tower that had awed him so much the first time he had seen it. The Nascent shouted upwards, and the man standing by quickly rang the bells with all his might. Watching the brass chime reverberate, Jude sat next to the gates.

  “Please leave, sir. I need to figure out what I need to do know that I’ve betrayed my comrades.”

  Surprisingly, there seemed to be some sort of kindness within Hazen.

  “Listen, you should head towards the temple. We’ll reward you for this. You clearly have Ashuan’s blessing on you. With her support, I am sure you can find yourself on the path to divinity.”

  He did not stay for long.

  I hope you’re happy with this.

  More Honoured dashed towards the walls, as he waited. The evacuation had already begun, as he could see the threads of people trudge away along the sides.

  A veiled man stepped out into the open, closely followed by a portly looking fellow.

  “How nice it is for the brothers to finally show up?” he shouted.

  He did not care anymore, bringing his dagger to his side. Neither of them could fight him, at least not without retrieving the scythe that was inside. It was time to be free of this hell. The large man appeared genuinely terrified, watching him like some sort of ethereal terror, but the veiled man did not stop his movements. Jude charged.

  Then a bony finger protruded from the cloth, and his shadow rose out of the ground, manifesting itself before him.

  “When could you-”

  Azrien let out a strangled cry, his question cut off. Killed your own brother too, then. Jude cut through the shadow in a neat arc, and just as expected, it passed through it entirely, before a very sold tendril morphed into a pincer that plunged into his ribs. Blinded, he fell back, while at the same time shards of crystal narrowly missed his head.

  Instead, it struck the shadow.

  His other enemy came out from the side, vicious smile still over her lips. It was so blatantly false. From the way she held herself, to subtle differences in posture. Not even the spirit would put something so out of place.

  “What is this? Neither of you are supposed to be here! He cannot have lied. My shadow, protect me!”

  But the shadow vanished. Jude lunged, and with a frenzied three cuts, Eva’s uncle fell apart. Every time he had taken a life, usually guilt would come with it. A small pinch, reminding him that he wasn’t crazy. This time, there was nothing but satisfaction.

  And a prayer.

  Please let this be the end.

  He faced the apparition of Cyra, and felt nothing. Jude could not even muster a single spark of fury, all of it drowned by the overwhelming pressure of resignation. Her Presence had no effect, the disgust festering behind the glass shield of her vision was all conjured, and the threat of death was irrelevant.

  So she dropped the mask. It peeled off, revealing… What was that thing?

  Pale yellow crusted against rivulets of magma-coloured cracks, over a smoky texture of skin. There was no hair upon her oval scalp, merely a hardened shell that jutted out in withered horns. She- no, it had the shape of a human, still maintaining eyes, ears, and even a flat nose, but Jude would have mistaken it for a Spawn if it weren’t for the fact that it could speak.

  “Interesting. You are just like they said. A threat capable of preparing them for our arrival. Unfazed even by your worst nightmare, who herself is a rank far above anything in this city. If you had disappointed me, I would have ended your life, but you have superseded my expectations. I suppose for now, I have no reason to intervene.”

  Then she became fully smoke.

  Jude had went in to the Trial expecting to find answers, a glimpse into the past that not even scholars would be able to see. He had seen plenty of wonders, learned so many small details, yet the hunger for knowledge had left with failure after failure.

  Now once again, he had no explanation for what had taken place. All that crossed his mind was that the Trial had not finished yet.

  Until finally, Jude found himself floating in a white void.