Knowledge Trial

The date of the first Succession Trial had been announced the week prior with a scroll tucked under the doors of each participating champion. It had also instructed that scholarly clothing should be worn, so Yerai had set aside a soft blue choidi sewn with alexandrite and amethyst– the gems that sealed the official announcement scroll. The top of the choidi sat around her shoulders, leaving her neck exposed. The garment had a flowing quality, and the silk stopped just at her knees, allowing the embroidery on the accompanying silk pants to peek out from under the top.

Fittingly, the trial took place in the Royal Library. Yerai could not imagine what the trial consisted of, however. It was a notorious piece of advice in the warrior compound that the last few rulers had focused their Knowledge Trials in history. Yerai always considered it a rumor until she had become part of the Royal guard and watched the King deliberate strategic and judicial decisions based on what had been done in the past. She always imagined opening her mouth to warn the King of relying too much on his predecessors, but never did. Her advice had not been warranted.

Since the trial had been announced, Yerai had sat in one of the smaller residential libraries and studied every relevant book she could find. With no guidance as to what the challenge would be, however, she had just ended up reading the books that looked most interesting.

The palace was eerily quiet. There was little movement or preparation around Yerai as she made her way to the Royal Library. Perhaps the Knowledge Trial was simply a written exam? There was much less ceremony around the first Succession Trial than she had been expecting. Yerai thought back to the banquet in which the beginning of the Trials had been announced. Compared to that night, one would have thought everyone in the palace was still asleep today.

The Royal Library itself was the most secure tower in the Apaeladian palace. It stood in the very center of the palace’s circular structure, rising high and ending in a small point that seemed to touch the sky. Yerai always wondered if there was a room at the very top of the tower. What would be in it? The outside of the tower itself was adorned in a mass of intricate stone carvings beginning from the ground and extending to the length of the roof. When Yerai had first reached the palace as a newly-minted warrior, the trainers had indicated those figures told the story of Apaelade’s history. As far as Yerai could see, they were lovely figures dancing around each other in what seemed like endless swirling motions. Some bore faces she recognized from library books she had read in the palace.

The entrance to the library was hidden in the Centriole Garden, as those in the palace called it. The Centriole Garden was a garden in the center of the palace that surrounded the entrances to the Royal Library. A warm breeze squeezed through the walls of the Royal Library and the entrance to the Centriole Garden. The musical rustling of leaves created a peaceful sound as Yerai stepped onto the spiraling stone pathway. Even the way through the garden and into the Royal Library was paved into concentric circles, which were connected by a diagonal walkway from the exit of the main palace to each wooden doorway of the Royal Library.

Yerai took another look at the carvings on the outside walls of the Royal Library. On her walk there, she assumed the carvings started where the roof of the Apaeladian Palace ended. In fact, they began at the foot of the tower, and the stone of the tower itself was weathered. The Royal Library was the oldest building in the city, but Yerai had not thought twice about it until she stared at the stone. It was rough, speckled with shades of gray so dark they seemed black and shades so light they seemed white. Some of the stones seemed to sparkle as rays of the rising sun hit them and Yerai squinted, looking for fragments of gemstones that could be hiding in the walls.

“Studying for the Geology part of the Knowledge Trial, I see.” Barsa called from the palace. Yerai smiled humorously.

“It’s the oldest building in Apaelade and I wanted to see what old stones looked like.”

“Well,” He started on one of the circular pathways, “I’m assuming a lot like the stones we see now considering… you know… they’re rocks.”

“Shut up.”

Yerai heard Barsa snort behind her in response to her comment from across the Centriole Garden.

The wooden door Yerai stood in front of creaked open and Meka stepped out, his deep green robes moving swiftly as he gestured Yerai inside.

“Champions,” He called pointedly to Barsa across the garden, “Must not speak upon entry and must take their own entrance.”

Barsa raised his eyebrows, then nodded once, scanning the paths for a different doorway.

The inside of the Royal Library was even warmer than the garden. As Yerai stepped inside, she felt the air embrace her. Meka allowed the wooden door to shut, and light streamed through wide windows which spiraled upward in the tower. The carvings on the outside walls were visible at the edges of each window, almost as if they were peeking inside to spy on the challenge.

 “This trial is one to test your knowledge.” Meka began. He gestured Yerai further into the library, “But a trial as you are accustomed to could not possibly begin to encompass the full scope of knowledge you possess and will continue to grow in the future.” Yerai tilted her head.

“So this isn’t a written test?”

Meka shook his head. Yerai muttered a sound of understanding, even though she did not understand at all, and glanced around. There were three sets of staircases on each level that led to the next one. Shelves had been built into the walls, creating floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with gold and silver-threaded books.

“This way.” Meka started up one of the staircases to the second level. Yerai followed, staring toward the top of the tower, to the small point that seemed to touch the sky.

“Do these staircases lead all the way to the top?”

Meka paused, turning on his step to study Yerai carefully. “Yes, why?”

She shrugged. “I just always wondered if there was a room up there.”

“Hm,” He seemed to think briefly before turning towards the second level of the library again. “Come along, the trial awaits.”

Yerai searched for other champions, but even Barsa and Magnus were nowhere to be seen. The second floor was just as quiet as the first, only slightly smaller. Meka led Yerai to a door nested in a nook where the wall-to-wall shelves had a small break in them. It was a smaller version of the doors leading into the library from the garden, adorned with a gold lock. Meka stepped aside, gesturing Yerai to enter on her own.

“This is as far as I will take you. Your Knowledge Trial begins here.”

Yerai furrowed her eyebrows and nodded. There was a small, inverted door handle that looked as though she should insert her hand into it. Odd. It nearly swallowed her wrist before she pulled back and the door swung open without a creak. She took one last look at Meka, closing the door softly behind herself.

The room was equally as rich as the library itself, padded in deep red rugs and a mahogany table. A kinet with the same green robes as the scholar sat at the table. Yerai had only met two kinets in her life and both were far more mysterious than this one. For one, his hood was not up. He had light hair that wrapped loosely around itself in curls. His hands were painted in the same deep red as the other kinets Yerai had met, but his sleeves were pushed up so Yerai could see that the designs continued to his shoulders. His eyes were lined with kheni and unlike most Apaeladians, even kinets, they were an electric blue. He stared back at Yerai quietly before breaking out into a small smile.

“You’ve never seen a kinet before, warrior?”

Yerai seemed to snap back to reality immediately. “Not this casually.” She responded. He shrugged.

“Yes, I suppose the kinets who are tasked to oversee the… training… of warriors are not exactly the friendliest.” The kinet paused, then gestured to the seat across from him. “Please, sit.”

Yerai stood by the chair, hesitating to pull it out. “Why are you here for a Knowledge Trial?”

“Because it’s a Knowledge Trial and I am supposed to be here.” The kinet raised an eyebrow. Yerai scrunched her nose as she thought about what she just said.

The chair made no sound against the thick rug as she pulled it out and slowly lowered herself into it. The kinet leaned forward, the fingers of his hands tented and his elbows rested on the table. “The point of the Knowledge Trials is not only to test the knowledge that you have, but the knowledge that you could be open to in the future. A ruler must not only be intelligent, but willing to adapt to what they see coming.”

Yerai stared at the kinet intently. She thought back to the last ritual she had partaken in with a kinet and cringed lightly. Hopefully this would not be the same.

“…Previously,” The kinet continued, “meaning the last time a ruler administered the Knowledge Trials, they were rooted in the history of Apaelade. What was not considered was that knowledge of the city’s essence is not only about its past but also the ability to understand its future. This is a test of sight.”

“I’m not a prophet.” Yerai tilted her head.

“And many of us are not,” The kinet nodded. “But one does not have to be a prophet to have foresight.”

Yerai pondered for a minute. Something about the kinet’s demeanor made her want to lean back in her chair slightly. In her last close encounter with a kinet, she had been earning her ranks. Yerai imagined the golden threads of Life magic manipulated in her head and she had to stop herself from shifting in her chair again.

“You are not reacting.” The kinet raised his eyebrow. Yerai congratulated herself silently for keeping her thoughts to herself.

“I am ready.” She lied through her teeth. The kinet smiled.

“Then we shall begin.”

Much to her surprise, the kinet pulled a small circular glass from his lap. As he held the bronze edge of the glass piece, his red-painted fingers slowly wrapped around threads of gold light. Life magic. The tendrils seeped through the glass, creating a pattern that Yerai could not describe and slowly filling the glass from the center point of the circle.

“Place your hand in the center.”

Yerai furrowed her eyebrows, squinting at the center of the glass as though there was something more to inspect than the gold tendrils of light slowly making their way through any leftover gaps. After another moment, she did as she was told. The glass was warm to the touch.

“Life magic can be both warm and cold.” The kinet seemed to read Yerai’s mind, “What I am extending responds to the magic that sustains you.”

Yerai’s gold eyes seemed to gleam as she stared at the kinet, still slightly confused. Her fingers stung lightly as the glass under them became hot, and she glanced down only to see the tendrils of light clearing slowly. Instead of glass, however, images began to flash on what had now become an opaque surface. The warrior compound, the hilly forest that surrounded the outskirts of Apaelade, the Royal Palace, and her room in the palace flashed consecutively.

“These are memories.” The kinet explained as Yerai opened her mouth to ask. “I will ask you questions and your answers will flash in the glass as you tell them to me.”

“This seems like more of a truth-telling experiment.” Yerai furrowed her eyebrows.

“Truth is the essence of foresight.”

“What–“

“Let us begin.”

Yerai’s face contorted even further, trying to make sense of the kinet’s words. She did not have much time, however, before the kinet began.

“Who are you?”

Images of the warrior compound where Yerai, Magnus, and Barsa grew up began to flash through the opaque circular glass quickly. Yerai leaned forward to see two figures in the center of the compound, one with a spear and the other in a white training tunic twirling two long knives. She squinted.

“Is that me?”

The kinet chuckled lightly with a nod. Yerai watched herself fend off the spear in a series of familiar twists and turns. Left foot forward, pivot, right foot forward, step. Right foot pivot, left foot forward, cut, step, block. She muttered the steps, frowning slightly at her form. Her back should be straighter and her shoulders should be less hunched. “Bad form.” She commented.

“Who are you?” The kinet repeated. Yerai stared into the glass a little longer. The image changed to one of Yerai on Apaelade’s western border, standing on a boulder surrounded by invading forces. She recognized their bronze armor. This was the battle against the Mojads, an island kingdom not far from the west coast of Apaelade. Yerai had never seen herself on a battlefield. She cut without hesitation, and part of Yerai was unsure if she was even looking at who she cut down around her, two hooked swords twirling in a blur. There was a fire Yerai witnessed in her own eyes that she had only felt. A fierce, unyielding expression that she thought only belonged in the eyes of wild animals. Her eyes no longer glowed the gold she had seen in the mirror, but a bloody orange. Now, Yerai sat back slightly.

“I am a warrior.” She answered. A response she had given countless of times, but somehow, seeing what she was in the glass had another response bubbling in her throat. She opened her mouth, maybe to speak it, but nothing came out. What else would she say? She promptly closed her mouth. The kinet was watching her intently, as if he expected her to suddenly decide to say something different. They watched each other for a moment before he turned his attention back to the piece of glass.

“What matters to you most?”

Magnus’ face on the night of the champions’ feast filled the glass. A hiss played in Yerai’s throat as the kinet raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “Are you sure?” He looked at Yerai. Despite the question in his voice, his eyes did not hold any confusion.

“Justice.” Yerai ignored Magnus’ smile in the glass.

“Very well,” The kinet glanced back at Magnus in the glass. “Justice for whom?”

The glass flashed over the city of Apaelade. The kinet nodded.

“And what is justice for Apaelade?”

“A happy people.” Yerai did not leave time for the kinet to look at the glass again. The left corner of the kinet’s mouth tugged upward before recomposing itself to a rather expressionless stare. His blue eyes twinkled.

“What makes a happy people?”

Images began to flash rapidly on the glass. Memories. Weddings Yerai had been to, advisory meetings with the King, banquets, music, the streets in the morning as the smell of freshly baked food filled the air.

“Living freely, I suppose.” Yerai mused, watching the memories flash before her. “The freedom to be happy, sad, or to decide which graces their life that day. The freedom to decide how to experience living.”

“Then what is the enemy?”

The glass grew dark. Yerai looked back at the kinet, who was still staring intently at her. “There is no enemy,” She responded quietly. “Only the emptiness of an unhappy people that we must avoid at all costs.”

“How do we avoid this?”

The glass clouded over slightly, now flashing photos of the King’s coronation. A mass of citizens cheered as the jeweled crown was set onto the King’s head. He had smiled, teary-eyed and young, upon the mass of cheering people.

“Win the people’s love.” Threads of gold light began to cover the glass once more. They created the same indescribable pattern that Yerai had watched in what seemed like just moments before. The kinet was now looking back at the glass, focusing on manipulating the connective Life magic back towards the tips of his fingers. “Is that it?” Yerai asked. He nodded. “Did I pass?”

The kinet smiled as the threads of light continued to unravel. “There is no such thing as passing or failing a trial.”

“But is that not the point of a trial? Besides, I thought these trials were extensive. That seemed rather short.”

 “Extensive to an unfit competitor, perhaps.” The kinet suggested.

“What does that mean?”

The kinet shrugged coyly. “There are still three trials left.” He looked up from the mirror as the last threads of gold disappeared around his fingertips. The glass was now simply a piece of circular glass, no longer a window into Yerai’s mind. “Perhaps one of the other three will feel long enough to meet your expectations.”

Yerai stood, not breaking eye contact with the kinet, but she could not read his expression. She bowed her head slightly, taking his leave.

“Remember,” The kinet called as Yerai wrapped her hand around the opening of the inverted doorknob. “The Knowledge Trial is a personal matter. Be cautious of how much you share.”

Yerai’s faced contorted slightly in distaste as she yet again tried to make sense of the kinet’s words.

The library seemed empty. Quiet whispers wafted from the first floor, and Yerai descended the steps to find Barsa deep in thought. He straightened at the table as they saw Yerai, an eager smile gracing his face.

“How was it?” He gestured to a chair. “Felt a bit too academic if you ask me”

“Really?” Yerai tilted her head curiously. Odd.

The sound of a door falling shut accompanied Magnus’ quick steps down one of the flights that led to the second floor of the library. He met Yerai’s questioning gaze with a disgruntled expression.

“Is everything alright?” She watched Magnus carefully.

“Confusing.” He muttered with an eye roll. “And not nearly long enough.”

“Really?” Barsa leaned back in his chair. “Mine felt far too long.”

Odd.

“So I suppose the Strategy Trials are next.” Magnus changed the subject.

“They had better be more straightforward.” Barsa snorted. Yerai caught his eyes and despite his flippant demeanor, they were wider than usual, darting around the library scrutinizingly. “I need to eat.” Barsa’s chair made a muffled sound as he pushed it backward to stand. “And maybe sleep away whatever that trial was.”

Magnus nodded silently, as did Yerai.

Now, it was even quieter than before.

“What did you see?” Magnus turned to Yerai.

“I haven’t even told you what happened.”

“I can tell something is eating at you.”

Yerai sighed, sinking into the seat Barsa had pushed backward. “My memories.”

Magnus made a confused humming sound in his throat and Yerai glanced upward to see his brows furrowed as though he were attempting to solve a particularly confusing riddle. “What did you see?” Yerai repeated Magnus’ question after a moment. He met her eyes for a moment, his eyes even more troubled, but did not answer.

“For the first time in years,” Magnus crossed his arms. “I feel like we are missing something.”

“We know nothing about these trials,” Yerai reasoned. “There’s a chance it is simply the fact that we do not know what is expected of us that is confusing.”

“What about earning our ranks?” Magnus raised an eyebrow. “That is an even more secretive practice and yet we did not seem to struggle with the idea that something else might be happening under our noses.”

“Do you think it has something to do with the apprentice from that first night of the trials, during the banquet? The advisory seemed to not want whatever it was to come to light. And aalya asked me not to come along when they spoke about it in the library.”

“The apprentice said the First Prophecy begins with you.” Magnus stared pointedly at Yerai. She shrugged.

 “No one knows what the First Prophecy is.”

“It’s a legend.” Magnus scanned the library floor once more. “The prophecy spoken before Apaelade by the greatest kinet alive.”

“And who would that be?”

Magnus shrugged. “I am just as curious as you are.”

“I fail to understand how it could possibly begin with me, then.”

“Where do the kinets with foresight sit in the Royal library?”

Yerai shrugged.  “I have a feeling they would not be so accessible as us walking in and asking about the First Prophecy.”

“You never know.”

“Third floor.”

Magnus and Yerai’s heads darted towards a kinet nonchalantly browsing the shelf a few feet away from them. He turned towards them. His clear blue eyes twinkled the same way they had when Yerai completed her Knowledge Trial. She raised her eyebrows. “You.”

“Third floor.” He repeated quietly. “ No one else is on that floor.” With that, he disappeared in between the small corridors between the endless bookshelves.

Magnus gestured upward. Yerai stood as purposefully as she could, forcing herself not to dart forward in case they were being watched. Something about the blue-eyed kinet’s demeanor made her feel as though their every move was being monitored.

The ladder-like staircases creaked with Yerai’s steps. Interesting. They had not creaked on her way to the Knowledge Trial. 

The third floor of the Library was unsurprisingly similar to the first two. The only difference was that small triangular mirrors were placed on each table.

“These do not seem horribly effective for looking at oneself.” Yerai inspected them.

“I have a feeling that is not what they are for.” Magnus carefully plucked the mirror from Yerai’s hands and placed it back onto the table. They both studied the closed doors with the same inverted door handles as the doors on the second floor of the library. Each door seemed equally as unassuming as the next.

“So,” Yerai gestured to the doors. “Do you imagine we open each one until we find a prophet?”

Magnus chuckled. “What an adventure that’d be.”

A door opened and closed quickly and Meka whisked past, stopping abruptly when he spotted Yerai. Quickly, his eyes darted from left to right before heading briskly towards Yerai and Magnus.

“What are you doing here?” Meka hissed. Yerai raised an eyebrow.

“Looking for answers.”

“You will not find them here.”

“The apprentice said –“

“I know, I was there.” Meka’s voice was still hushed, cutting off Yerai rather harshly. “But you cannot be here.”

Yerai’s eyes narrowed. “What is the first prophecy then? And what did it mean that I was –“

“Careful what you say next.” Meka cut her off again more violently. With a wave of his painted hand, he began to turn away. “Go now and I will not tell the King and Queen that you two went against their wishes last night and came searching for a prophet.”

Magnus and Yerai hesitated.

“And you will be allowed to see The Succession Trials through.” Meka raised his eyebrows. With a heavy sigh, Yerai nodded to Magnus and they turned towards the stairwell.

“We will be back,” Yerai turned to Meka. “Whatever the outcome of these trials may be.”

“That may depend on the outcome.” Meka responded ominously. Yerai felt Magnus tense slightly. In fact, Magnus’ whole demeanor stiffened. He opened his mouth as though he was planning to respond, then seemed to think better of it.

“Until the next trial then,” He nodded slowly, cagily, to Meka, who slinked back towards the rooms of the third floor.