Vera fought her nerves as she descended the dank stairs. Supposedly, she was here for some sort of test – which didn’t make any sense.

The Eternal Order was universally known for its scholars, who served as advisors to kings, heads of academies and in other prominent roles. After passing tests of academic learning at age 12, many young Acolytes voluntarily chose to focus on other paths, learning to serve the Order as soldiers, merchants, chefs and dozens of other professions. It was not unusual, however, for Acolytes to seek to learn and master skills in many other areas – the Order was perhaps the only place in the world to learn so many different things so freely, without the constraints of guilds seeking to hoard secrets, and the Order forced no one to take “the Pledge,” swearing life long allegiance at 16. Walking away was allowed, and many did.

Taken in as an orphan, Vera considered no other future than service to the Order. Her love of learning was not remotely limited to the academic, and she took full advantage of the Order’s offered training in as many areas as she could. Nonetheless, she long knew she intended to Pledge as a Scholar, and knew – or thought she knew – that she easily met and generally far exceeded every required qualification.

Nonetheless, here she was. A week’s travel, the last day through jungle. A descent of hours through a subterrean cave system. A changing cast of guides that would tell her nothing. And, finally, a dank seemingly endless stairwell, that her latest guide told her to descend – before leaving. Every bit of the experience was completely foreign to the Order she thought she knew.

A door. A handle. Vera paused. The Order taught her to question long ago. Ancient texts sometimes reported legends as facts. Techniques long accepted closed the mind to finding a better way. The strange circumstances that brought Vera here were pieces of a puzzle to her, and while the solution was hidden, some things were clear. The Order, or a faction within it, was not what it appeared to be. The Order, or a faction within it, did not intend for her to be a scholar. The door before her was an end of the life she knew.

Being taught not to fear the unknown was one thing. Accepting that your life, your hopes and your dreams no longer had any relevance was something else. When there is only one path, walk. Vera seized the handle and opened the door.

Inside was a middle-aged man sitting at a desk writing. Vera noticed messy hair, well-worn leathers, physical fitness and a dozen other details. The man looked up at her without expression. “You are Vera. Come.” With that, he got up, grabbed a key ring from a peg behind him, turned his back on her and headed down a stone hallway.

Trying to stay calm, Vera said “I feel I am entitled to some answers” and remained in place. The man turned back, stone-faced. “Do you imagine that your feeling is relevant here?” Vera couldn’t help thinking for a moment; it was the training. “Yes. The Order, or whatever faction you work for, has gone to a massive amount of effort to train me and to bring me here – effort that won’t casually be wasted. So. Answers.”

The man looked interested for the first time, but the expression was a flicker, perhaps imagined. Stone-faced again, he said “you have always been free to go. You remain free to go. The guide is waiting for you above. Your interest in the Scholar track is known, and will be approved. All you have to do is walk up those stairs. Or you can follow me. If you do, you will be presented with a choice. If you chose correctly . . . scratch that. Depending on the choice you make, your questions will be answered, or you will be sent back to become a scholar, questions unanswered. There is no threat to you here. Now. Will you follow?”

Vera found his words a puzzle piece that couldn’t be placed, clearly important, but meaning uncertain. Still, she knew that she would be foolish to rely on his words; choosing to leave could well mean death. Risk aside, Vera knew herself well enough to know that she had no choice at all. When there is only one path, walk. Vera gestured the man forward and was led through a maze of corridors and past several doors. Suddenly, the man stopped before a door like any of the others. “You will not speak inside. This will prove more difficult than you expect, but for you to speak is to fail. When you are ready, signal me and we will go into the adjoining room to talk.” With that, he opened the door and walked inside.

The room was small and bare – save for the man shackled to the far wall, and the table with a knife.