The outside of the building had changed considerably since Dallion last saw it. Over a dozen buildings had been destroyed, deep pits surrounded by scaffolding taking their place. What was weird, though, was how little everyone cared. Looking at the buzzing mess of people, one would say the Academy had always been like this. The only difference was the presence of the White Eye, who seemed to be out in force, flying over the city in groups of two.

“So, this is why my pass was revoked?” Raven asked.

“A huge inconvenience, I’m sure,” the mage muttered.

The strength of the black-haired’s father was leaking through. If Dallion had said such a thing, he’d get lucky to get off with a stern warning at the very least. When dealing with an Archduke’s son, mage Enroy sounded almost apologetic in a passive-aggressive way.

As it turned out, the trial was indeed a rather big deal. While Great Mage Enroy had the power to request it, formally it was the Archmage who needed to sign off. He had, of course, after which Enroy had the annoying task of taking the group to the place where the trial was to take place.

A large carriage, similar to the one Dallion had been brought here, but a lot longer, waited for them a short distance from the Learning Hall.

“Get inside,” the mage said.

He’ll be driving us? Dallion asked.

He’s the lowest ranking person that could, so yes, Nil replied.

Harsh.

That’s the thing about mages: they always do the least amount of work possible. Otherwise, why bother learning magic? The old echo let out a dry laugh. The only thing mages want to focus on is their work and a lot of comfort.

One by one, all five novices entered the carriage. Dallion was last—since they were no longer in the building, he had grown considerably. On his shoulder, Ruby flicked his wings.

“You take a lot of space,” Phoil grumbled.

From his perspective, Dallion was a small child who’d temporarily grown large. The funny thing was that to a degree, Dallion had started to think of himself in the same way. That only reinforced the idea that he had to get rid of his mark as soon as possible.

“Looks like you could have taken your armor,” Cheska said. “Would have given us an advantage.”

“You really think they’d allow that?” Dallion leaned back. “The trial will be considered Learning Hall territory or something. It’s just for novices, after all. And even if it isn’t, I’m sure that great mage Enroy would oblige.”

“He will,” Raven said with absolute certainty. “We’ll be exactly the same as we are in class. No advantages, other than weapons and personal items.”

“Did you bring any of those?”

All eyes fell on Raven.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he replied. “I have something better than weapons, though—knowledge.”

“Knowledge of a centuries old trial? I’m guessing the Purple Moon might have changed things a bit since then.”

“That’s unlikely. If something’s not broken, why fix it?”

It was an innocent answer that sent shivers down Dallion’s spine. What the rest of the group saw as witty and amusing, he saw as a confirmation that somewhere among Raven’s echoes was one from Earth. Only a human would use that phrase. Was this the person’s way of letting Dallion know? It was always possible, but if that were the case, who was it? Otherworlders were said to be found in large numbers in the Imperial capital. All of them couldn’t help but be drawn to one another, always going towards the unknown and the most advanced spot in the world, and the capital was the peak of the current age. There was talk of other kingdoms, even human ones, that rivaled the empire. However, anyone with logical thinking could tell even they considered it superior—otherwise it would be said that the empire was rivaling them.

Could that be the reason that Raven had approached him for an alliance? As an otherworlder, he had one ability that the others lacked. Either way, it would become clear soon enough.

It took roughly twenty minutes for the flying box to reach its destination. Given the speed that flight was capable of, that meant the trial ground was quite far off from the familiar cluster of buildings.

A slight thump marked the landing. Based on the sound, Dallion could tell they had landed on stone. He was just about to mention it when, abruptly, he shrunk to his child state.

“This is it,” Raven whispered. “Be ready for anything.”

The wagon door creaked open.

“Come along,” Enroy said.

Quickly, everyone went out. Dallion had no idea what to expect, though it definitely wasn’t finding himself on the top of a tower. The carriage had landed a few feet from the end, revealing a wide empty space with nothing but six columns staring towards the sky. In some aspects it reminded Dallion of an awakening shrine’s realm. Instinctively, he looked at his shoulder. Ruby was still there, indicating that they remained in the real world.

“Straightened up,” Enroy said in a strict voice. “We have an audience.”

Mages and carriages made their way to the opposite side of the tower. Unlike what Dallion had come in, the other carriages were elegant things of beauty. One was of special interest, created entirely of gold alloy. Two mages acted as attendants, opening the door and assisting an aristocrat in her thirties to descend. Her hair was somewhere between hazel and blond, flowing down almost to her waist. The clothes were simple, made of the same material as the carriage: a long elegant Earth-like dress with the top of a business suit. The blouse was flawlessly white, made of silk improved so many times that it had become elevated to something that shouldn’t even exist.

House Elazni, Nil said. Quite a big shot has come to watch you.

Is she royalty?

You can say that. They are the descendants of the first emperor. More importantly, they’ve retained their position, unlike many others. Other than the current emperor’s household, they are as imperial as one can get.

Trying not to openly stare, Dallion followed the rest to the center. The moment they reached the columns, the mage stopped.

“You know what to do, right?” The man looked at Raven.

The black-haired nodded.

“Explain the trial,” the woman in gold said. She didn’t raise her voice, but there wasn’t anyone who didn’t hear her.

“Of course, Duchess,” Enroy said with a deep bow.

Duchess, Dallion wondered. Not Archduchess.

The term felt almost foreign. Never had he heard such a title since arriving in this world.

“The trial you are about to experience is given to you by the Purple Moon himself. Once you are within the columns, the passage to a real will open up. To succeed in the trial, you’ll have to cross it, making your way deeper and deeper until you find the means to leave. Should you succeed, the Moon will grant you with a prize worthy of your skills. Should you lose, you’ll return to where you stand now and will have your magic level reduced by five.”

As far as punishments went, that was quite serious. That explained why only level three notices got to make the challenge. Anyone with magic five or less ran the risk of ceasing to be a mage. On the other hand, the prize had to be quite the boon, to be considered the equivalent of five magic levels. Maybe it would be enough to end Dallion’s curse?

“What if one of us doesn’t make it?” Dallion asked.

He expected the mage’s face to twist in rage, but the man didn’t react. There was no frown, no smirk, not even a sigh.

“If someone dies in the realm, but the rest of the group complete the trial, only one magic level will be lost. Needless to say, that person won’t get a Moonstone.”

That seemed perceptively fair. In truth, it put pressure on everyone else—a trick Dallion had experienced in some of his awakening trials. The Moons were definitely wicked—then knew exactly how much to press to press a person to keep them striving forward, but not quit.

Everyone took their places. When the last one stepped between the columns into the designated area, it happened. Purple barriers emerged, transforming the columns into a cage. The sun also vanished, eclipsed by the giant Purple Moon shining directly overhead. It was so close that Dallion felt it would mode down further and crush them.

MOON REALM AWAKENING

A purple rectangle appeared in front of his eyes. Dallion split into instances, each summoning a weapon. Every instinct in Dallion’s body yelled for him to summon Lux. Just as he was about to, he noticed Ruby still on his shoulder.

That’s not right. Dallion paused.

Looking around, it was obvious he was no longer in the real world. Purple fields and forests continued for as far as the eye could see. The rest of the group were there, and so was Ruby, but also, Dallion was able to summon his harpsisword at will.

“Everyone, don’t move,” Dallion ordered. The problem was that despite his strength and reflexes, he remained in child form… and with a squeaky voice.

“Calm down.” Raven looked at him with a blank expression. “Nothing will happen to us. The starting area is safe.”

“Starting area?” Cheska asked. She was almost as jumpy as Dallion, already having cast two protective spells. Spheres of green and blue light surrounded her.

“Like in any area realm, there’s a starting area. This one is safe.”

“Starting areas come with descriptions,” Dallion said as he looked around. “Nothing here.”

“There’s always an exception.” Raven narrowed his eyes.

“Of course, there is.”

The whole realm was one big exception. It allowed elements from the real world to enter, yet also followed the standard rules of a realm.

“I don’t see any threads,” Izka said, feeling the ground.

“There’s nothing but threads,” Dallion corrected. “So many that you can’t see them.”

Spellcraft and attack, he thought, drawing the light symbol on the ground. Initially, the entire area beneath his feet lit up, but after a few seconds, the glow began to fade, leaving one single magic thread lit up.

It was just like the vortex cage Dallion had been in. There was no certainty that the thread led to the right destination, but at least it was a start; the start of a puzzle. Rather convenient. Or rather, expected. The trials in the Learning Hall were nothing more than practical lessons, leaving novices to learn what they were lacking. No doubt each was specifically selected depending on what the specific novice required.

Dallion looked at Raven. Could the noble have known? When he had taken him to the storage area, he had never specified that it was the only one. It was perfectly possible that all the cubes held guardians.

“What now?” Dallion asked. “You have the most knowledge. What do we do?”

“We follow the thread.” Raved went forward.

“Just like that?”

“I told you—the starting area is safe. It’s just to see whether we’re smart enough to figure it out. The challenge will start afterwards.”

“And you’ve no idea what that challenge is?”

Raven paused for a second, then kept on walking.

“I can’t say unless you know about it already.”

Restriction rules, Dallion grumbled. And just when I thought I had gotten rid of them.

Always on guard, and splitting into half a dozen instances, Dallion went on forward. Despite everything, it was going to be a lot safer for everyone if he were in the lead. Cheska was a close second. She had no weapons, but her spellcasting skills were dangerous enough. Raven followed, keeping a safe distance further behind, with the remaining two on either side of him. Of them, only Phoil was armed.

Two casters, two fighters, Dallion thought. But what are you exactly? With so many echoes, it could be anything…

Just then, the glowing thread shot up from the ground like a laser beam.

COMBAT INITIATED