Adriana had a hard enough time staying awake. The ropes binding her wrists were really unnecessary as she writhed in feverish sweats in her childhood room.

Every hour, she would shiver like she’d been dunked in a river before sweating as though she’d been sprinting for an hour. All in combination with piercing headaches, muscle aches, and prevailing weakness in her bones. Not to mention the occasional bit of her innards she coughed out.

But she needed to stay awake. It would probably be healthier for her to just sleep, but if she could use something—anything—against her family, she would need to be there to take advantage.

With every moment, she increasingly believed her suffering was all for naught. But something deep down wouldn’t allow her to give in. Whether out of personal pride or something more profound, it was getting the job done.

The door to Adriana’s room creaked open, allowing her father inside.

Andar looked her over and sighed. “This is foolish, daughter. You need to rest.”

“You want me alive.” Adriana heaved, her voice thick with fatigue. “Why should I make that easy for you?”

“Because your efforts will amount to nothing, Adriana.” Andar said as he walked over to a lounge in the room's corner.

“Why do you even want this?” Adriana spat. “Are you just that much of a coward? You wouldn’t even fight on humanity’s side? I thought you were a prejudiced bastard, not a spineless coward.”

“I am not spineless, Adriana. The people who fight for humanity do so out of feeble attachment.” Andar said.

“Bullshit.” Adriana scoffed before hacking up her own lungs in a coughing fit.

“You need to see the world for what it really is, Adriana.” Andar said. “Power dictates who rules, and who dies. And whether or not the weak can see it, they are no more than slaves for the powerful. It is an ugly place. If we are to release ourselves from the attachments and obligations that make us weak, we must have the power to do so.”

“You’re just trying to justify your own selfishness.” Adriana groaned.

“You refuse to grow up. I want us to be free. Power ensures that we never become slaves. It ensures our freedom. The world will continue to deny us our very right to life unless we accrue the power to let it go.”

“If the world denies us all that, should we not fight the world? Should we not fight the powers that be?”

“If you wish to fail in every endeavor, be my guest.” Andar muttered.

“So you are just a coward.”

Andar grimaced. “What is wrong with my desire to protect my family? The Scaled One will devour this world eventually. I want to detach myself from this world, but I don’t want to leave my family behind. If you come with me, I won’t have to let you fall victim to him.”

“Because you…” Adriana gritted her teeth through her headache. She didn’t know if it was the pounding agony in her temples or the argument itself, but she couldn’t come up with a retort for the life of her.

“I do care about you, Adriana. I care about our family. I care about you too much to let you throw away your life. I am sorry if that makes you hate me.” Andar huffed as he stood.

Adriana’s head swirled with a typhoon of outrage and grief as Andar left her room before she could respond.

However, without someone to take her rage out on, the typhoon calmed. And the clearing of the sky revealed an epiphany.

Perhaps this really resulted from her own childishness. A result of her exercise in futility. No matter how enraged she was about her parents’ methods...the result was all that would matter in the end.

***

They didn’t showcase the Trial of Idealism to the public. As the most sacred of the Trials, it was only meant to be between the Mother of Mankind and the two remaining contestants.

One papyrus note summed up the entire Trial. Both Semiramis and Mattiew were to report to the waiting room near the Gullet of Tiamat and do nothing more than have a sit down with the Empress of Veyshtar.

Mattiew kept his head down as he walked through the procession set up in the sandpit. Thousands upon thousands of spectators cheered for him as he hurried his way down the flanking rows of torches through the arena. Among the cheers, he felt hateful glares and betrayed glances falling on him. Whether or not they were of his own imagination, he wanted nothing more but to escape their sight.

He was too weak to handle the mountains of guilt that weighed on his conscience and grew with every scorned person who looked at him, wondering “Why?”

He was no more worthy of admiration, either. He wasn’t there to win the crown for the common people. He wasn’t there to be their underdog. He was there to betray them as well.

Mattiew entered Tiamat’s Gullet and headed towards the waiting room. Remorse pained every step as his dread and anxiety mixed in some emotional amalgam that both wanted to get the crown for his wife, but also believed he was in no position to demand it.

The only thing that made sense to him as he opened the door was the burning hatred in his chest of Andar Callione.

Semiramis bumped past him as she left the room. Mattiew’s gaze followed her for a moment before turning to the waiting room.

It was here that Mattiew promised Adriana that he’d defeat Utica the Apex Predator. Somehow, here, faced with what he thought was certain death, he’d been almost blissful compared to the mess that was his life now.

Perhaps it would’ve been better if the Apex Predator had killed him. Perhaps everything would’ve been better off if he never tried to pull off this stupid stunt.

“Nikoliades…”

Mattiew closed his eyes as he turned to face the Empress of Veyshtar. The woman who had tried to give him courage. And in return, he killed her son.

But he had no choice. If he didn’t...it wasn’t just Dakkar who would’ve died.

She was dressed rather plainly for an empress, wearing just some light linens and sparse jewelry that contrasted her as she lounged on one of the many cushioned seats in the waiting room.

“Please sit.”

Mattiew obeyed and sat on the edge of a large lounge. He could feel the weight of Cyrus’s death from her gaze. He had no business pleading with anyone, especially this woman.

“I…” Mattiew muttered. “I am truly so-”

“What is it you plan to achieve with the crown, Mattiew?” The Empress asked.

Mattiew glanced up at her, meeting her piercing gaze. “Excuse me?”

“Let’s say you were to win my vote and acquire the crown. What would you do with the Ouroboros of Tiamat?”

“You should give the crown to Semiramis.” Mattiew said. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Why’s that? You had quite the noble goal when we last spoke.” The Empress said.

Mattiew furrowed his brow. “I...killed your son…”

“I speak to you as the mother of all mankind. As the Empress of Veyshtar.” Mattiew looked at her and saw for the first time that she was not, in fact, looking at him as a murderer. “So tell me, why don’t you deserve the Ouroboros?”

“Beyond those I killed, I’ve betrayed nearly everyone dear to me. Those who hate me know about my betrayal. Those who cheer for me will hate me soon enough. I allowed my wife to be stolen away when I was trying to fight alongside the Scourgers. I betrayed the Scourgers when I insisted on trying to save my wife. No matter what choice I make, everything seems to come crumbling down. I’m alone now. If you gave me the crown, I would have a kingdom with only one resident. Me.”

The Empress let out a long sigh.

“Do you know why humans like heroes so much?”

Mattiew shook his head.

“Because they assure us with guidance. And they convince us that when faced with evil, our moral integrity will be strong enough to take up the fight in their stead. They make us believe we always have the choice to do good. That we always have the option to sacrifice ourselves to make a difference.”

The Empress fiddled with a ring on her finger. Mattiew found it odd that she wore one on each of her digits.

“And they allow us to distance ourselves from evil. We push evil onto the Nightdwellers who roam the outskirts of our empires. We believe that by virtue of being descended from those kings who killed the gods, we are inherently good.”

“I guess that’s why they only ever show up in stories…” Mattiew muttered. “Evil is...well, it’s everywhere. People kill each other in this tournament for the sake of a crown and a meaningless title. Nightborn are enslaved, legally or illegally. Those of us who don’t fit into the systems in place are cast out. And people who pretend to be heroes have just as much blood on their hands as the villains. The world itself is just...a giant amphitheater.”

“Most people, from the top of society to you vagabonds, are aware of this. And yet this widespread evil continues. Why do you think that is, Mattiew? Do you think people want to be evil?”

“I...no.” Mattiew muttered. “I don’t know why all this is happening. I don’t know why everything I do ends up causing something horrible to happen. Maybe that’s just the way the world is. But…even if that’s the case, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

The Empress clicked her tongue. “That right there, Mattiew. That sentence. That’s why evil continues. It’s just the way of the world, so they say. The status quo among the nobility remains the status quo because of two reasons. One, the system benefits certain people so greatly that it becomes convenient to ignore the evils that accompany it. Two, people are too lazy, too apathetic, or too afraid to do anything about it. Because thoughtlessness is easier. Evil can only exist in an absence of empathy and reason.”

Mattiew shook his head. “I try my damnedest time and time again! Everything still goes wrong. Even in the presence of empathy and reason, evil still wins. I can’t change fate.”

The Empress shook her head. “You tried to act that way and ran into an obstacle. That’s no excuse to abandon your responsibilities.”

“Responsibilities? I never asked for any damn responsibilities.” Mattiew scoffed.

“Those who ask for responsibility are rarely prepared for it. But we all have responsibility to ourselves as humans. You cannot shift the blame to fate.”

Mattiew stood, his brow furrowing with frustration. “Why not? When all it does is bring death, destruction, and despair, why not blame fate?”

“Because in doing so, you abandon what little control you have over your destiny. And once that’s done, you have nothing. You don’t get to make choices. You don’t get to have opinions or complain. You don’t have a life once you give up your agency!” the Empress stood to match him. “Humans will never have full control over the results of their decisions. As much as you try to be gods, you aren’t. And that’s a good thing. But face that reality. Own your decisions and everything that gets dragged along with them. Good or bad.”

“I am owning my decisions!” Mattiew argued. “I’m owning the fact that I killed my oldest friend! That I killed your son! That I turned every comrade and ally I have against me!”

“Be SILENT!” The Empress’s voice boomed as a wave of force rippled through Mattiew’s bones, throwing him back into his seat. “We cannot change the past! If you let what you’ve done in the past control you, you will lose sight of everything you have for a delusion of what could’ve been! I will not watch you walk down the same path I did!”

“What…” Mattiew muttered. “What do you mean?”

The Empress sighed.

“I used to lament the terrible things I did when I was young. But doing so didn’t make me any better as a person. In fact, it led to the rise of the terrifying power that is Semiramis the Sunkiller.” the Empress explained. “I ruled this world once, before becoming Empress. I ruled under my birth name. The one given to me by the same one who gave me the throne. Tiamat. Queen of the Gods.”