CHAPTER 2: NOCTIS VREX

Charon felt like he was drowning.

An inky void spread out around him in all directions, no light daring to exist in this sacred space.

His body twisted and convulsed as it tried desperately to reclaim the substance it had lost, to become physical once more, yet nothing he did made the feeling go away.

Then, after an indeterminate amount of time, he felt something else.

It started as a pinprick in his brain, a small mote of pain, before ballooning into an avalanche of emotions.

Dread, fear, loneliness, acceptance, loss, eternity, oblivion.

These feelings surged up into his mind, claiming a space he never knew existed before.

A voice, quiet and forgotten, yet full of a hidden strength reached out to him, whispering a promise.

"Your rise begins soon, Charon. The souls of the dead and dying reach out to you. Come to me, unlock your element. Let me grant you power."

As quickly as they came, they left, leaving Charon emptier than ever before.

Before he knew it, he felt himself lurching awake in a cramped steel tube with a glass front. Metal restraints held his arms and legs tightly, allowing him no room to move.

Whipping his head back and forth violently, Charon began to hyperventilate as he struggled to figure out whether he was dead, captured, or simply dreaming.

’What happened? Where am I? Am I alive? Did the Elves get me?’

His thoughts came one after the other, filling his head with worries on top of worries.

Slowly calming himself down, he leaned his head back on the cold metal, using the chill to temper his tumultuous mind.

’Be rational. This must be part of the mage’s plans; otherwise, he wouldn’t have sent me here. I just need to trust that he had a reason.’

He figured if the plan was to kill him, he would have done it back in the village.

Thinking of the village brought a frown to his face.

Trying to distract himself, he peered out of the glass, but it was too glazed over for him to identify anything through it.

All he could see was his own reflection.

Wavy black hair slicked down with sweat and dark green eyes looked back at him. His pasty white skin held a healthy red hue from the physical exertion. A small scar ran from his left cheek to his left ear, a mark he never knew the source of.

Although he was tall, being almost six feet, the tube held him with room to spare. Doing his best to lean back and glance upwards, he realized it could hold someone almost twice his size.

’What kind of giant was this thing built for?’

Just as he had those thoughts, his tube began to hiss. The glass slowly pulled away, a white mist spilling out from the sides as it raised to reveal a man standing on the other side.

He looked to be almost forty, with thinning hair and a ragged beard. His dark robes looked expensive but were wrinkled and unkempt.

He held a square plate in his hand that projected a transparent blue screen with a series of text above it, an item Charon recognized as a holo-pad.

The man sighed deeply, rubbing his temple with his free hand as he glanced up at Charon with tired eyes.

"So, you’re the low-born we got sent? What did you do to get yourself noticed by a priest?"

Without waiting for him to respond, the man just shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Don’t answer that, you’re wasting enough of my time as it is."

Charon watched with wide eyes as the man pushed a button on his holo-pad. Immediately, the metal restraints pulled away, releasing his limbs and causing him to fall forward. His knees hit the metal floor, pain shooting up his spine.

He gritted his teeth as he struggled not to yell, expecting more agony to follow from his previous injuries.

Surprisingly, nothing else came.

Looking down, he noticed that his arms were free from any of the cuts and bruises he had experienced in the battle. Only smooth flesh remained.

’I’m healed? But how?’

Before he could consider it any further, the priest stuck the holo-pad in his face. A bright flash came from a small hole in the side, blinding Charon temporarily.

Reaching out to cover his eyes, he leaned back on his ankles and turned away. The man just muttered to himself and clicked a few buttons.

Once his sight returned, Charon turned back to see the man pocketing the item.

"Get up, Charon. I want to debrief you as soon as possible so I can get back to doing things that matter."

Without waiting to see if Charon would follow, he turned and began walking away.

Charon finally looked around, noticing that his tube was just one in a room full of rows of similar capsules. Deciding he didn’t want to be left alone in this strange place, he scrambled to his feet and raced to catch up, asking a question the moment he got close.

"How do you know who I am?"

The man snarled as if the question was an insult, barking a response.

"How bad do you think our records are? You think you’re the first nobody from the outskirts we’ve gotten here? From the moment you were born, we knew everything about you, so why don’t you shut up and let me do my job before you embarrass yourself any further?"

Charon recoiled at how brusque the man was, taking offense at what he considered a very simple question.

Opening his mouth to speak again, he closed it when he saw the withering glare the man was giving him.

’Who the hell does this guy think he is?’

Passing through a doorway that opened with a chime, Charon found himself in a small office. Only a single desk and two chairs filled the space, a small stack of papers and a series of electronic devices covering the surface.

Without stopping, the robed man walked around the desk and sat down, knocking over some of the papers. Cursing loudly, he picked them up and slammed them down on the stack.

Charon moved slowly to sit in the chair opposite, hoping that he would avoid being the target of the next outburst.

The moment he sat, the man leaned back in his chair and spoke, the words coming out so fast that Charon struggled to keep up.

"Welcome to the Noctis Vrex. Given that you were sent from an outskirt planet, I will assume you have no knowledge of the Death Trials. This ship is commanded by the High Priest of Death and serves as both a school and training ground for those chosen by previous graduates."

Pausing to sigh as if he were sick of his speech, the man waved his hand dismissively and continued.

"You will stay here for six months, where you will study and train, both in simulations and real-life events. Given the ongoing war between the Elves and the Human Empire, you will be expected to test your skills in open combat. This will be done under the watchful eye of your superiors, but injuries and even death do happen. Your parents will have-"

The man stopped mid-sentence, his face twisting into a frown as if he was disgusted to be forced to repeat himself.

"Considering you have no parents, your being here is seen as acceptance of all risks. Soon, you will be tested for your element, which will determine what schools of magic you will study. For now, you will be assigned a room and can begin preparing for your first trial. This will be in a month."

Tilting his head to the side, the man raised an eyebrow and curled his lips in what looked like a snake’s attempt at smiling.

"Any questions?"

Taking a moment to try and let the information sink in, Charon didn’t answer immediately, which was an answer in and of itself.

"Perfect! Now take this and leave!"

With impressive speed, the man grabbed a second holo-pad off the desk and shoved it into Charon’s hands, the force pushing his chair back a few inches.

Finally snapping out of his stupor, Charon quickly tried to ask questions.

"Wait, what do you mean by Death Trials? What is all this?"

The man just stood and walked around the desk, hoisting Charon up with barely any effort and roughly dragged him towards the door.

"Too late, if you really cared you would have learned who we were before coming here. If you have any more curiosities, figure it out on your own time."

The moment they reached the door, he threw Charon out.

"This is a place of learning and growth. Do me a favor; learn and grow before you ask anyone else those stupid questions."

A strange glint passed the man’s eyes, his frown quivering ever so slightly before he sighed and spoke once more

"You’re going to war, kid. After these next few months, you’ll be expected to fight for the empire. Get used to it, and get stronger. Everyone here has a spark in their veins. Turn yours into a fire, or die. Your choice."

Without another word, the man turned around, the door closing behind him.

Charon stood just outside, clutching the holo-pad like his life depended on it, his jaw dropping in shock.