A small breath escaped him as they decided to trudge on, nodding once more and patting the barrier before standing once more. A right here- straight. Walk over this, don't look down- no, it's okay, you'll be safe.

Eventually, they'd gone up. Attikias perked as they went ahead, and he let out a small "yes!" as they inspected it. "I think I need- yes," he affirmed gently, coming close to the opening. "This will get you out. It has to- it's the only thing up here I see other than you," he said, thinking.

Kneeling down, Attikias settled in when they came close to the slit. "I'm very proud of you, you know. Not a lot of people would be able to get through that by themselves." Reaching through, he went to pat the being's neck. If they were real, fake, it didn't matter- they had made it. They both had.

"Take a break, okay? You did so good." Reaching through, he could just get the necklace, and made sure to pull it off over the being's head rather than snapping it. 'This better work...'

Part one of the Trial complete, he imagined. Turning around, Attikias reached to the pedestal to place the object on top, his other hand still reaching for the stranger and patting them gently if they hadn't shied away.

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

death

Attikias' hand met fur, soft but faintly greasy and coarse like any other dog's. They were warm, breathing, real; and, they shied away at the first contact. Wary eyes fixed on the offending limb as they froze in place. It'd felt nice though, hadn't it? Not the blistering pain of emergence, of being formed wrong, of suffering—the canine leaned into the touch.

"Thank you," they muttered tiredly, eyes slipping closed.

The pendent slotted easily into the top of the pedestal. It rotated once clockwise, grinding as it went, and then the stone retreated entirely into the floor. No door opened, and there was silence for a moment.

Purple fur shifted beneath the elf's hand as the canine started awake. "D... do you feel that?" The shaking of ground? Stones cracking and splitting apart? Every bit of the maze beneath them both splitting apart and falling into a black void?

It started from the far end of the room, the destruction. Stalactites crumbled and crashed down with the walls, and all manner of lesser rat swarms shrieked their last, fading into nothing. "W-wait—" the creature called, yelping sharply, "no, no, you—you promised." They lurched unsuccessfully to their feet, tumbling out of reach and skidding halfway down the slope. Stone decayed underfoot as they yelped again and tried to claw up. "HELP!" They cried out, voice broken and hoarse, cracking louder than the floor beneath them. "Please—"

The darkness swallowed them faster than they could struggle their way back up.

Attikias, in his little palace above the ground, was untouched and unshaken (... physically, anyways.)

Attikias, in his little palace above the ground, suddenly found himself facing two toxic-green spotlights. Emuh tilted his head just a few degrees to the left before rising to his full height. "HM. YOU-HOO'VE HAD ENOUGH," he crowed blithely, "ENOUGH TO CONSIDER THIS A SUCCESS, HMM? BROUGHT THAT FROM POINT A TO POINT B." A dismissive wing waved. "TAKE THIS, THEN—YOUR ASCENSION—AND GO ON!"

The room warped and whirled around the man, a pull sinking his stomach lower and lower into his body—a particular emptiness filling his whole body, like some vague illness. He'd feel drained, but... somehow capable of more. It would take only time... maybe... ?

Attikias would find himself staring back out into the light of Polaris, stood in the middle of the corridor leading to the Place of Ascension. Emuh was nowhere to be found.

Attikias has Transcended. He is now a Transcendent Strategist, and may work his way back up to Transcendent Genius. Upon attaining this rank, his player may post in Update Me to choose a Specialization (viewable in the Magic section of the Guidebook).

He has also learned the tactic:

Divided We Fall:

Transcendent Intensity Manipulation. The user may attempt to rally or incite others into unity or conflict. Experienced speechcraft is imbued with magicka to influence even a large group, making the user seem extremely convincing.

nice perfect trial, twunk.
@Attikias

They were... real. This couldn't be an illusion, Attikias paused for a moment in his petting, realizing, before curling his fingers through their fur. They deserved this.

Attikias waited, watched as the pedestal descended, disappearing, and he blinked. What now? Looking up, the elf stared to the ceiling of the tunnel, waiting for something. Something was moving- glancing down, Attikias's gut dropped as the ground below both of them disappeared beneath the glass. No- he looked up, and it was all falling away, and his heart lurched. "No- come on, hold on!" The crumbling was coming closer, and they were sliding. Fruitlessly, he reached for the being's hand, only for them to slip out of reach each time, and he eventually started shoving his arm to the point that it felt like he'd never get it out again.

"HOLD ON!!" He could feel their fur peel out from his grasp for the last time, and they were gone.

He froze. Slowly, he pulled his arm out from the hole, trembling in breath and body. He promised. He promised they'd be okay. He knew something would happen, and yet- would they have died either way?

What kind of monster was Emuh? Why-- his- this Trial was not worth another life.

Twisting his head, he saw the lights. He blinked- Emuh, he was there. The elf was too stunned to say anything, only shaking in place with a mix of too many emotions, struggling to place what just happened in his mind. This was no success.

Take this, and he watched- and his heart leapt to his throat. He was being drained, and he let out a strangled gasp, realization rolling over his mind as he keeled over and propped his top half on extended arms. This was ascension? This was no ascension- it felt like a trick, like his very soul was fed upon.

Maybe, there was something more there. He needed to recover-- needed to get home. But that being. That being was lost forever, and he never had a name to their face. Nothing but a child, lost, and they died.

Attikias slammed his fist down hard on the ground, now morphed back to Polaris, and he could feel the hot sting of tears. "BASTARD!" He screamed to open air, coughing lightly. He wheeled- one arm grabbed a rock and threw it fruitlessly. He was so stupid to walk into a trap like that. How could he have known?! Was this the Trial, knowing he lead an innocent to their death?

But, they couldn't have been real. They-- they were- they felt so real, and yet, how? Everything had been conjured in a moment, and Attikias rocked back up to his knees as he stared upwards at one of the hanging bulbs, way up high. All that, and for nothing... He lead them to their death. Real or not, he'd killed something that talked to him, recognized him and spoke to him. They remembered.

Tilting his head back down, he covered his mouth with both hands and choked back tears.

What had he done?

;fade to black exit