The sound of stone cleaving and crashing still echoes in Tourmaline's ears. A stranger was hurt because of her carelessness. If it had been her, imprisoned in her chrysalis under that rubble, perhaps she'd wouldn't feel so guilty. But she didn't even know who that poor soul was. She could not call his name to apologize, when he'd reawaken. Or to thank him for saving her.

That whispering voice that had started mocking her didn't help either. It cackled, reveling in her fear and shame. It's your fault. You destroyed him. Such is the fate of chaos... She hated every moment of it.

So steeling herself, Tourmaline padded across Polaris, to a place she'd her through word of mouth. The doorway to Emuh's domain yawned open before her, and she'd stand at the threshold, looking into the dark. Then she'd raise her voice, "Is this the place of Trials? I wish to prove myself!"

As much as she tried to hide her quivering, she couldn't help worrying. She told herself that she'd get stronger, learn to control her magic, prevent any more. But would that really help at all?

She's rigid as Emuh lurched out of the darkness, cackling and screeching all the while. He's suitably intimidating for his job, at least, but Tourmaline doesn't exactly have much chance to laugh or recompose her thoughts before the chamber opens, and she's urged to step inside. As she follows him, she responds, "Thank you for the vote of confidence, Emuh. I suppose I'll try to give you a show, fail or success."

And then she's alone in the chamber, a scattering of stony feathers at her feet.

It takes a moment for the trial to shape itself, and she tenses again, expecting to be thrust into some gladiatorial arena or otherwise a show of brute force - but that is not what waits for her. The darkness lifts into dim gloom. The gem window shines in what little light. And the slots waiting for... keys? reveal themselves.

This isn't a trial of strength. It's a trial of smarts. she realizes.

She'd step closer to the window, inspecting how it is made of perfect crystal. Diamonds, maybe? And then she'd glance back down to the three plates, with holes for some sort of item. She guesses they are locks. Hopefully.

She'd look at the blue one with its diamond shaped slot, and wonders if a gem might work to trigger it. So she focuses her magic, to will a diamond into existence - but her magic goes awry.

She'd preoccupied with the lash of her magic, of crystals coating her paws and digging in painfully, so at first Tourmaline ignores the hissing laughter of her audience. But then the earth shifts, and she's knocked from her feet, she's aware of... tight situation she's currently in. Not good.

She's going to meet the same fate as September if she doesn't get her act together. Wincing, she rises back to her feet, even as the diamonds cut her and cause blood to splatter on the floor. She needs to focus, as much as the rising adrenaline tells her to kick and scream and run and fight.

She turns away from the blue plate, and focuses on the red one instead. Take a step back from that other failure, and look at this thing instead. She will come back to it. But for now, the square slot is where she focuses her magic.

This time, it would be weak - probably disappointing for Emuh, but thankfully not as wild and uncontrolled as the time before. A small, imperfect ruby would form, sitting in the hole.

Her fraying nerves eased a little as the gem fit in perfectly, but she did jump at little at the cracking of the window. Turning, she'd see it cracked but still there.

Seems, despite all of her failing and flailing about, she'd cracked the puzzle pretty quickly - assuming the other slots were as straight forward as the first two.

"I can do this," she muttered to herself, breathing deeply. It's just two more gems. She just has to endure the tight conditions and the cuts on her forelimbs a little longer.

The middle slot was yellow and round. She could do this. Just a small, round gem... that's all she had to do.

Between the quickly shrinking room to work, and Tourmaline beginning to look like a bedazzled pincushion, it is getting incredibly difficult to remain calm. It's already tight enough where every breath contributes to a timer, and that is separate from should it get any worse.

No, no, not again! she stares with wide eyes, shrinking away from the ceiling pressing closer. For the moment the pain of the gem stone nails digging into her is forgotten under the threat of a far more unfortunate fate.

But as the dust settles, the walls having stopped, she waits for a moment longer, almost expecting it do start again and finish her off any time. Nothing comes however, and after a long, deathly tense pause, she finally risks moving again.

...There's no way out beyond the death provided in the walls, or finishing her test. There is no reason to sit here and wait and die. The plates still wait.

Better she dies trying than doing nothing at all. With trepidation, she'd focus on the yellow plate again, and hope her magic would listen to her for once.