Wraithwood Botanist

B2 - R: Chapter 4 - Trial of Survival

It wasn’t even noon yet when I found myself sitting under the shade of the gazebo, watching the Trial of Survival on my screen like some Olympic game.

I didn’t want to watch it. Lithco already warned me it would kill most of the participants—but I had to. This was my chance to see the notorious "Bramble" separating me from the gate.

So I turned on the feed and was stunned by the vibrant sight of… people. Or at least, I thought they were "people." There was one woman with cat ears and another with scaled skin, and two had purple skin and horns like demons as they moved out of the way of grotesque orange humanoids with tribal necklaces made of baseball-sized beads as they stomped through the crowd. There were even the classic conspiratorial lizard people, each blending into the crowd, speaking and talking with humans as small animals crawled on their shoulders.

"Well… That’s a plot twist." I turned to Kline. "You see these cat ladies? One of ’em has a tail."

Kline’s eyes glided to me as if I asked him if he liked the taste of botulism.

"Human women it is," I smirked.

He released one of the sharp, warning yowls that cats give to others in their territory and walked away, taking two steps into the sun and lying down again.

So cute… I thought. I couldn’t tell if he was just prude or offended that I would suggest anything but a shorthair cat, but either way, his response was amusing.

Suddenly, my screen blacked out as a massive beast flew across it.

"Wait! Is that a dragon?" I pushed objects off the already empty counters and sat down on top, staring stunned as a dragon, a real-world dragon, flew across the skies! It probably wasn’t a "dragon," I’m sure it had some fancy name, but it had red scales and wings and a long snout that housed crocodile jaws that could eat a bus. It was a fucking dragon, okay? So, I’ll address it as such.

The POV suddenly switched and I was looking through the rider’s eyes, amazed to see that the rider couldn’t even see past his harness. It was just like looking at a roof filled with shingles, moving quickly through the air. It was only after he turned that it showed a dozen other massive birds of glorious descriptions circling the skies with it.

Suddenly, the dragon shot toward a titan-sized gate as if it meant to collide with it like a crash test dummy, sacrificing their blood to the crimson arrays tattooed to the iron.

I gasped, but at the last moment, the dragon shot upward at a nearly 90-degree angle, moving hundreds of feet before the iron gate disappeared, and I could get an aerial glance at the Areswood Forest—endless like the ocean of green trees spreading out without end. It was pocked by green and gray and white mountains throughout, but they were swallowed whole by the infinite expanse.

I captured that image in my memory, like the brief pause after snapping a picture on your smartphone. Then the dragon suddenly turned, leaving that serene and expansive ocean as it headed back to a cheering crowd.

As it approached the ground, the POV switched, this one like a camera, pointed at a stage as a woman in a strange, gray and white suit walked onto the stage.

The crowd visibly calmed, and I got a notification.

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The Trial of Survival is beginning. Would you like to turn on audio?

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I chose yes.

2.

Aiden felt chills as he watched the feverish crowd outside Galfer’s Gate. One woman grabbed a random man’s arm, and he flinched, preparing to attack, only to pull her into an embrace. Another person popped what appeared to be pills as individuals in suits pumped their fists between drinking from flasks like Brexton. It was like an underground boxing match, sloppy and depraved, like a pack of wild animals—and this was the front of the crowd, where he stood with Brexton and the legacies.

He could only imagine what the back looked like.

"Welcome to the Trial of Survival!" the speaker boomed to the frenzied crowd. "For the first time in most of your lifetimes, you’ll get to witness a bloodbath that pits legacy against legacy, clan against clan, school against school—father against son."

Aiden felt his chest reverberate from the laughs and screams, and excitement.

Everan turned to Brexton. "Are you really going to take that?" The people were cheering over the death of Legacy Family members.

Brexton stopped listening to the opening ceremony and turned to him with surprising aggression in his eyes. "You see any other legacy protesting?"

Everan’s face morphed into a painting of perplexion as he looked at the other family members, regal and powerful yet unconcerned by the calls for blood. "Wait… No…"

Brexton smirked viciously. "Why do you think that is?"

"I… don’t know."

"That’s why you shouldn’t comment on it." Brexton took a drink from his flask. "Fucking idiot."

Everen trembled as the announcer continued her long introduction, thanking the Seven Great Families, the forty-three Middle Families, the clans, governmental organizations, and major donors for sponsoring the event. While the Oracle provided awards, the Areswood Defense Alliance offered legal betting and took a portion of the proceeds to give rewards to the riders’ families should they die, and sponsors offered prizes.

This wasn’t just a mandatory event—it was a showcase of prestige and might.

Once the opening was over, the announcer got into the rules. "The Trial of Survival is not a tournament. The first rider to successfully cross the Bramble, drop a mock shipment, and return gets the right to make the first delivery."

Aiden’s stomach dropped. He was feeling bolder and was subconsciously worried that someone would complete it before he could attempt it.

"That said—most riders won’t finish the Bramble for the qualifiers. It gets more dangerous the further in you go, so most will turn back early and prepare for the drop. That’s okay. If no one completes the Bramble, the person that went furthest will get the right. If there’s another tie, the delivery will be split. That won’t be difficult because none of the mounts on this field can do it in one trip. So to claim the diamond reward, you need to complete at least both."

Aiden saw Family members in colorful robes wince, glancing between the participants in matching robes riding on relatively small birds and the woman riding the wyvern. She had the advantage of only having two trips while others would take three.

"Now that you know the stakes, let’s talk about rewards. Anyone who gets halfway through the Bramble will obtain a gold request. Anyone who completes the Domain Quest will get a diamond. And it’s been confirmed that anyone who lands one trip but fails or gives up on the other will still get a platinum reward. That’s why you want to go first. So long as you make it halfway to the neophyte and she retrieves it later, it counts as your delivery."

Aiden felt icy sweat run down his spine as the competitors exchanged excited glances.

"Before you think it’s too good to be true, let’s inform the crowd of the risks." The announcer looked above the gate and pointed toward the sky. "Right above the gate is an external domain that prevents people from approaching from above. If a second evolution mount enters it, it will fall unconscious and plummet into the forest without fail. Therefore, all participants must stay within 100 feet of the top of the gate to prevent getting hit. But that’s the least of their worries."

The aerial view then switched to the top of the trees.

"The five-mile strip between the gate and the rest of the forest is notoriously dangerous. It’s called The Bramble, and it’s clearly designed to keep people out. It is full of third-evolution beasts, sentient plants, poisons, and every type of brutal trap imaginable. Riders should expect to face dozens of attacks simultaneously. It is not a joke.

"Thankfully, it ends. After this strip…" An aerial shot showed a massive patch of plants that looked like a maze of thorns—or a real bramble. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t a patch of trees. "You will be in the greater forest, and the beasts will be weaker. You can take a break there and gain your bearings if you wish. Just remember that once you return, it’s the gauntlet all over again.

"That’s it for the rules. So just focus on living and bringing glory to your families!"

The area exploded in cheers and clapping and screams of assent.

It was time for the Trial of Survival to begin.

3.

My heart had taken a lot of strain over the last two weeks, but there was something cruel about anticipation. This was my life on the line. Once someone made a drop, I would lose access to the temporary shelter. I almost wished that they would put it off till the last second!

I watched people load dummy crates on massive birds and dinosaurs and dragons cautiously, reminding myself not to get my hopes up. Lithco already told me that they would most likely fail—so it would be on me to retrieve it. So, I prepared myself mentally for just that.

"Hey Lithco. What’ll happen if someone fails the drop? Am I gonna lose the shelter today?"

Lithco’s pop-up reply gave me minor relief. "No. As long as you intend to retrieve it, I won’t count the delivery until you retrieve it. That said, if you milk the shelter for your three-month visa and later refuse to attempt a retrieval, I will punish you."

"How?"

"By cutting off your access to the Guide for the duration you milked your visa."

"So ten weeks?"

"Ten weeks."

I took a sharp breath and nodded. "Charming."

It felt like Lithco was wringing out my lungs like a wet sponge as I watched the teams finish tying the four array-tattooed crates onto the bird. The POV switched to aerial shots and crowd reactions like it was a football game. The crowd was wild, waving flags with different colors and crests that matched the people sitting in chairs in the very front—the Legacy Families. They seemed like modern monarchs.

The crowd’s cheering suddenly stilled, and the shot went back to the POV of the rider.

Then it began.

The rider launched toward the heavens with surreal speed, arm sleeves flapping in the breeze as the bird shot directly upward to cheering fans. A crowd’s POV showed the bird moving a hundred feet up a second, the black bird’s wings flapping as it made it toward the top of the gate. And then the POV switched again once they crested the gate and then rocketed forward, moving over the top of the gate like a race car driver, determined to outrun any attacker.

The rider failed.

He wasn’t in the forest for two seconds when tendrils shot out from canopies at surreal speeds, creating a net. The rider moved up—but it was too slow. The tendrils clamped the mount’s wings as the five more flew at the flier.

The camera switched, showing the man suspended in the air like a fly caught in a web. A split second later, massive birds the size of reaper drones shot out of the trees in a black blur. I barely saw them before the birds dispersed, leaving a tangled net of green tendrils, pulling a bloody mass of meat and feathers into the trees.

It all happened in seconds.

My mouth opened wide, and my head tilted and I leaned back and laughed, almost falling off the counter I was sitting on. "Oh… hell… no…" I cackled, mind plunging into the depths of lunacy. "Fuck the shelter."

I had half a mind to pack up my stuff and start looking for a tree to hollow out. My packages weren’t coming, and I had shit to do to prepare. But I didn’t. For whatever reason, I watched more intensely, examining the Bramble—studying.