The side door led to stairs. Down. Always down.
Kael didn't talk. He just walked. His torch made weird shadows on the walls. The shadows moved like they were alive.
Riven followed. His legs were tired. His head hurt. But he didn't complain.
Complaining was for people who could afford to be weak.
They reached the bottom. A room. Big. Empty. Stone floor. Stone walls. No windows.
In the middle, a wooden dummy. Old. Cracked. Someone had drawn a face on it with charcoal. The face was smiling.
"This is where I train," Kael said. "No one comes here. No one cares about the lower levels."
"Why are you showing me?"
"Because I need someone to spar with. And you need to not die in three days."
Kael tossed him a wooden stick. Short. Heavy.
"What's this?"
"A sword. For now. You'll get a real one later. If you survive."
Riven held the stick. It felt wrong in his hand. Too light. Too heavy. He didn't know.
"I've never fought before," he said.
"I know. That's the problem."
Kael picked up his own stick. Bigger. Longer.
"First lesson. Don't get hit."
He swung.
Riven barely dodged. The stick whistled past his ear.
"What the hell?"
"Second lesson. Don't talk. Focus."
Another swing. Riven blocked. His arms shook.
"Good. Again."
Swing. Block. Swing. Block.
His arms hurt. His shoulders hurt. His hands were sweating.
"You're slow," Kael said.
"I just woke up in a stranger's body yesterday."
"Excuses won't save you in the dream."
Swing.
Riven didn't block this time. He ducked. The stick hit the wall behind him. Cracked the stone.
Kael smiled. "That was better."
"Why are you helping me?"
Kael lowered his stick. "I told you. I need a sparring partner."
"That's not the real reason."
"No. It's not."
He walked to the wall. Leaned against it.
"The first time I did a Dream Trial, I almost died. Someone saved me. An older student. She gave me advice. Showed me how to fight. How to think."
"What happened to her?"
"She became a Hollow. Last year. I watched her face appear on the wall."
He looked at Riven.
"I'm not helping you because I'm nice. I'm helping you because someone helped me. And maybe if you survive, you'll help someone else. That's how this place works. Not because anyone cares. Because we're all we have."
Riven didn't know what to say.
So he just nodded.
"Again," Kael said.
They trained for hours.
Riven got hit. A lot. His ribs hurt. His arm was bruised. His left hand felt wrong. Like something was broken.
But he kept going.
Near the end, something changed.
His body started moving faster. Not because he was stronger. Because he stopped thinking.
The stick felt less strange. His feet knew where to go.
He blocked three swings in a row.
Then he swung back.
Kael dodged. Barely.
"Good," Kael said. "Again."
They stopped when the torch burned out.
Riven sat on the floor. His whole body hurt. He couldn't feel his left hand anymore.
Kael sat next to him.
"You did okay," Kael said. "For a no-name."
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me. Thank me by surviving the trial."
Riven looked at his hand. It was swollen. Purple.
"I think it's broken."
Kael laughed. "Probably."
"How do I fix it?"
"You don't. You let it heal. Or you find someone who knows healing fragments."
"Healing fragments?"
"There's a student. Upper level. She has a fragment that lets her fix bones. But she charges."
"Charges what?"
"Favors. Information. Sometimes blood."
Riven looked at his hand again.
"How do I find her?"
"You don't. She finds you."
Kael stood up.
"Go sleep. You have two days left."
He walked to the stairs. Stopped.
"One more thing. The face you saw in the wall. Don't touch it again. And don't tell anyone else about it."
"Why?"
"Because if the Archivist finds out, he'll want to study you. And no one survives being studied."
He left.
Riven sat alone in the dark.
His hand throbbed.
Two days, he thought. Two days until the trial. Two days until I either get my first fragment or die.
He stood up. His legs shook.
He walked back to the dorm.
The corridors were empty. The torches were smaller now. Almost out.
When he got to the room, Elara was awake. Sitting on her bed.
"You're back," she said.
"I said I would be."
"Your hand."
"Broken, probably."
She stood up. Walked to him. Grabbed his wrist.
Her fingers were warm.
"This is going to hurt," she said.
"What are you—"
She twisted his hand. Something cracked.
Riven screamed.
Not loud. He bit it down. But it hurt. A lot.
Then the pain stopped.
He looked at his hand. The swelling was gone. The purple was fading.
"How did you—"
"I have a fragment," Elara said. "From my second trial. It lets me heal small injuries. But it costs me."
"What does it cost?"
She didn't answer.
"Elara. What does it cost?"
She sat back on her bed. Her face was pale.
"It takes my memories. Small ones. A day here. A meal there. Nothing important. Yet."
Riven felt cold.
"You shouldn't have used it on me."
"Probably not."
"Then why did you?"
She looked at him.
"Because you came back. Like you said you would. Most people don't."
She lay down. Turned to the wall.
"Go to sleep, Riven. Tomorrow, you train again. And the day after, you try not to die."
He stood there for a moment.
His hand didn't hurt anymore.
But something else did. A weird feeling in his chest. Not fear. Not anger.
Gratitude.
He hated it.
He lay down on his bed. Stared at the ceiling.
Two days, he thought again.
Two days.
He closed his eyes.
The incense smell was weaker tonight.
Or maybe he was just getting used to it.