ORIGIN

Zoey watched the pitch rats chatter and writhe, like maggots upon a blanket of shadowy flesh. There was a small part of her that felt hunger, and a larger part whose stomach churned at the thought.

It didn't seem like she was required to hurt them. If she was correct, she merely needed to lure them to the sigils in the rooms that matched the ones she had seen before. It seemed simple enough.

She waved her wisp over the first sigil, the "S", and drew in a quiet breath as she focused on that first pressure plate. From the darkness above, an ethereal caroller swooped down, shimmering in faint, golden-hued light. She had the illusion land upon the pressure plate, hoping to lure the rats to that spot.

It would probably be good if they didn't realize it was an illusion right away. Assuming they surged toward the prey, the Zoisite would let it take flight again, to flap above the pressure plate-- to hopefully stall the rats. Maybe they would try to climb over one another to reach the bird as long as it stayed low enough? Give the Zoisite enough time to put another illusion on the other two spots...

... they hoped the rats were hungry. Otherwise they would have to come up with a better lure.

This one was already enough to make their stomach churn uncomfortably. A swarm of starving rats would be dangerous-- not just to the Zoisite, but to each other. She could practically hear the screeching already.

Focus. Keep moving.

The screech of Emuh send a shutter through the Zoisite's quills, though it was quick to silence itself. It did not want to have to fight the rats. It could probably kill a good number of them if it had to defend itself, but too much blood would be spilled in the effort. Better not to come to that.

It knew deep down that there were too many rats. Even for as large as the Zoisite was, enough sharp teeth, focused and starved enough, would overwhelm.

The Zoisite kept moving. To the next spot, where the arrow sat.

It pulled on its illusion, the caroller bird, and it flew away from the rats in a desperate panic. It feigned exhaustion, landing once more on its singular leg upon the second pressure plate. Feathers fell from its shimmering form, dissolving into glitter on the ground where they landed. It was such a pretty little bird. Was it cruel to taunt these rats with something they would never be able to kill? Or was it a mercy, that the Zoisite did not have to throw a true bird into the rat nest?

Stop thinking. Stop. The rats might not even be real.

This was just a test.

The methods so far seemed to be working. The rats descended upon the bird, and yet again the illusionary songbird took flight. The Zoisite walked down to the final room, talons lightly scratching the floor. It was not easy to be such a large beast and to move without making some sound. It would be helpful if the illusion could make a noise to distract, to draw further attention, but the Zoisite did not know how to throw such a sound. It would be a pressure magic, wouldn't it? Pressure wasn't one that the Zoisite had learned. Perhaps it should...

But for now, it focused on what it had. The bird's wings flapped, sending down glittering feathers with each flap and illuminating the room as it soared along, this time landing upon the final pressure plate marked with a circle.

The Zoisite had the bird land clumsily, falling in a thrashing of wings and single legged limb. It turned its sightless, glowing eyes back to the rats. Could a bird look afraid, with its hard beak? Those wide eyes certainly seemed to show fear. Not that the rats would care. They were simply hungry.

... did Emuh really keep starving rats in his trial room? The implications were troubling.

The Zoisite did not wait to see the swarm descend upon the final illusion, though it maintained focus on the glowing illusion as it walked away, back to the central chamber to see if all three pedestals were alight. Would the door open? Perhaps this was only the beginning of the trial.

It held its breath, head raised high to see the fruits of its labor. In the back of its mind, they thought about bringing some old meat to the rats. Something that would be unwell for their family to eat, but pitch rats wouldn't mind.

As if they could take care of every living thing in these forsaken caves.