Horses nickered and stamped their hooves against the cobblestones of the square right beneath the magnificent, shining wall of the Chalice. He tightened his grip on his new axe as he shifted in the saddle. His talent pulsed throughout his entire body like a vengeful red sun.

Vemon, Isidora, Dorian, and Hespa chattered behind him but he ignored them. He patted both of his bows that he had hanging on either side of the saddle along with four quivers full of razor-sharp arrows. He had temporarily borrowed his axe that was better served for chopping wood than hacking into flesh. But it'd work still, besides, soon enough he'd have real money to spend on a weapon.

Theo was ready.

Horns blew in a rising note that climbed higher and higher until he felt it in his bones. A red light trickled into his ears to soothesoothe his sore eardrums once it ended. A woman shrouded in metal stepped forward to address them. Only her head was free from her thick steel shell.

“Welcome to your Trial of Horse, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Aelina of the Order. I’m sure many of you are eager to prove your worth to all of us in the Aetheline Chalice.” She paused, then frowned at their oppressive silence. “You will venture forth into the Wastes in groups or individually. You will ride along the course we have laid for you across a canyon straight ahead, take one of ten flags, and return to us. Only individuals or groups with flags will be able to become horsePages in truth.”

“Can we take more than one flag?” Dorian whispered in a hiss to Vemon. “Ask her!”

“Orderwoman Aelina, what happens if a group takes all of the flags?"

“That will be the only group to pass,” Aelina smirked at their mix of outrage and mutters of interest. “In five minutes we’ll line you up outside and you’ll begin.”

“Alright team, and Theodran, pay attention,” Vemon said as they all turned to huddle as close as they could while in saddles. “We can do a few different formations, but I believe that Theodran should be our vanguard. He’ll be our perfect unyielding shield.”

“Agreed,” they all murmured and nodded at once. He frowned at how easily they offered him up to be wounded and possibly die for them.

“The ladies should be in the middle,” Vemon held his hand up to ward off any potential upset, “so they can put their talents to best use. Isidora should keep us motivated and inspired, while hopefully inciting our competitors to some infighting. Hespa, you should use your talent to make us as silent as possible. If you can, either make the other groups louder to draw more attention or burst their eardrums. Got it?”

Vemon nodded as Isidora shifted nervously in her saddle, while Hespa uncovered a drum that she had fashioned into her saddle alongside a flute that she had at the ready.

“Dorian, my man, you’ll be in the front with Theo. Make us non-threatening as possible and chart the safest path for us. If anything does attack, it will be up to you to try and get them to focus on Theo as much as you can.”

“What about you?” Theo scoffed as he raised an eyebrow at the man who’d strutted about ever since he’d met them that night in the woods.

“I’ll be the rearguard, horse-boy. In case 'rearguard' is too big of a word for you, that means I'll protect us from the back. My talent will give us and our horses the boost we'll need.” He shrugged then grinned at the loud thrum of the same horn being blown in two blasts.

Theo turned Nightfire with his knees towards the curved wall of the Chalice then stopped, shock-still. Myriad of colors bled across the perfectly smooth surface of the wall as a crack split downwards from the top in a straight line. Stains of red smeared in a grand arch, large enough to be a fool’s sunset. Yellow corroded away the red until only a band of crimson remained. Blue pooled and churned in swirls through the gold until there was another band of yellow fitted to the red. Black snapped free from the vertical crack through the cerulean as it darkened all of the colors until it vanished.

Rust-orange gravel and sand greeted them through the sudden opening in the Chalice as far as the eye could see. Jagged spires of radiant white crystal speared through the coarse ground of the Wastes. A harsh light burned and crackled along their edges, their brightness seared afterimages into Theo’s eyes even though they were still inside.

“Go line up!” Aelina barked, metal wrapped around her head in a moment. She followed the horde of them through the arch to point towards an array of posts that followed the rise of the terrain towards the start of a massive bridge.

Theo led his ‘team’ through the massive opening that yawned around them like the giant maw of some ancient entrenched terror. Heartbeats screamed around him in terror and excitement as all of them crossed the strange thickened air of the Chalice and stepped out into the Wastes. Theo slowed his rapid heartbeat with a pulse of his talent as he let go of the reins to guide Nightfire with his knees. He shook his hands and grinned as his talent loosened the stiffness in his fingers.

He breathed in deep then coughed as the acrid bite of the air rasped through his lungs. Pins and needles danced across his exposed skin. For the first time, Theo sensed something with a strange, erratic heartbeat that echoed through the regular beats of the people and horses around him.

“Are you alright, Theo?” Vemon asked as he leaned over his shoulder, concern etched into his features. "We need you at your best."

“Yeah, just…the air.” The words came out in an excited whisper. He could feel the heat of the fire that was burning within him, as if it was searing its way through his veins, making his pulse throb in his temples.

“You better get used to it, then. It won’t get any easier.” Vemon pulled back.

“I hope not.” Theo smiled at the man then turned his gaze back to the distant horizon where their opportunity awaited them. Hoofbeats whispered as the other riders pressed in around them. Long flagpoles stood hammered in as far as the eye could see in a grand loop that circled its way back to Aethel's gates.

"Go! Go, go you swine!" Aelina roared to the echoing thunder of blowing horns.

Theo spurred his horse, Nightfire, forward with his companions close on his heels. Theo steered them through the twisting dunes and over the dusty clefts of the Wastes. He was careful not to stray too far away from the rest of the party. He didn't want to risk getting separated or losing track of them in the red haze of his senses from his talent. Other groups clamored as they struggled to surpass his group. Weapons cleared from straps and sheaths as people attacked with blade and Talent.

Theo caught a brief glimpse of a woman with dark hair and eyes speeding past them. She looked no older than twenty. Her Talent pulsed a dull red that bloomed in her palms before exploding behind her in a calamitous surge that tossed horses and riders aside as easily as straw.

He struggled against the rising tide of horror as he shoved his instinct to pull the reins back aside. Theo tightened his knees and shouted for his party to jump over the oncoming red wave of destruction.

They surged over the crest and plunged down into the next dune. The woman kicked her horse to go faster. She passed every single one of them by. Theo winced at the white hot intensity of pain and agony that he sensed from the wreckage of the bodies the woman's talent had left behind. Disgust and rage welled inside of him as he unslung his bow from his saddle, nocked an arrow, and loosed at the woman within moments. Hopefully, he'd be able to end the threat she represented to their race right here.

The arrow slammed into her shoulder, and she cried out in surprise as she toppled sideways off her horse to sprawl in the coarse sand of the Wastes. They thundered past her in a clamor of hooves.

"We got her!" Theo yelled as prepared another arrow. He sensed more of their competitors closing in from behind them, their heartbeats were an ever-present cacophony bent on their defeat and loss. "Vemon! Make yourself useful, they're closing in on us."

“Got it!” Vemon yelled back, and he lifted his bow from his own shoulder. Dorian, Isidora, and Hespa were huddled behind Theo as if he were their shield and protector. Yeah, right. Theo wasn't here for them, but for himself. He had to win so he could bring honor and wealth back home. So that he could propose to Alanna.

“Hurry up!” Theo urged Nightfire onward as they rode towards a long, low hill that led to the gaping maw of the canyon. A long bridge arched across the gap. He could make out the pitted sores of erosion dozens of feet away. A blast of fire streaked past them and exploded off to their side. Chips of stone and molten metal sprayed across them all. Theo hissed in pain as debris carved its path across his back and Nightfire's flanks. He drew on his talent to siphon as much of his energy as he could to heal the blazing wound, but it resisted his efforts.

“Hold on, we're almost there!” Theo called as the wind whipped at his face and hair. His skin stung and felt cold despite the heat of the day. He saw the bridge ahead of them, and it was far wider than it looked with jutting stone support that reached up to the sky.

"Take that!" Hespa screamed as her talent flared to life, her voice exploded behind them. Theo felt their enemies' eardrums pop from the violent force of the sound. Vemon loosed his arrow behind them and it tore through someone's body straight into the ground. Isidora strained with her talent to control emotions as feelings of bravery and hope slammed into each of their party members, meanwhile screams of terror and suffering broke out behind them as horses came to an abrupt stop or threw their riders off.

"We aren't out of danger yet, keep an eye out!" called Dorian as they reached the bridge at last. Theo guided Nightfire between the flags and onto the bridge. Hespa and Vemon swung their swords out to strike at anyone who dared to join them on the bridge.

Hooves rang against stone as they rode past the countless craters that covered the bridge. In moments, they were on the other side of the canyon and in view of the ten flags that would turn them from horsePage-elects into true horsePages worthy of status and fervor.

A wasteborn waited at the end of the bridge, its arms crossed over its decrepit humanoid body, its face misshapen with a mouth full of misshapen fangs. It held an old, rusty blood-speckled sword in one hand and a scythe of stone and bone grew from its arm as it prepared itself to attack them. Fear hammered against the vice of bravery Isidora had forced into him. This was one of the countless horrors of legend that had plagued humanity outside of the safety of their walled cities for ages.

And they were its next feast.

Theo roared against the dread that threatened to pull him under, his hand drew and loosed arrow after arrow as his vision swam and pulsed. His body felt leaden at the sight of the wasteborn. Arrows broke and clattered uselessly against its flesh. Sand shifted as more wasteborn emerged ahead of them.

"Shoot, shoot, shoot!" Dorian bellowed as he loosed arrow after arrow. Hespa and Vemon joined them in a furious flurry of broken wood and a disappointing lack of gore as the wasteborn moved to attack. Theo felt Isidora's heart shiver and pound as she struggled against the weight of dread that pressed against them all, but it was an unstoppable burden compared to her paltry talent.

Theo tossed his bow aside in favor of his stolen axe that he swung straight into one of the wasteborn that pounced for his throat. His talent twisted and pushed its way through his body in a flash of red light as his muscles swelled with vigor like they had in the arena. His bones creaked as if they were steel instead of bone. Brackish blood sprayed in a geyser as the blade of his axe sank into the skull of the wasteborn, the shaft of his axe shattered in his grip as the weight of the wasteborn knocked him from his saddle. The beast fell to the ground in a spray of sand and blood. Theo scrambled to get back up, but the corpse of the wasteborn was a heavy weight on his chest.

"Aleyr damn it!" Theo shouted as Nightfire was cut down by the reaper wasteborn with a sword and scythe. His party continued on without him in their rush to escape and reach their goal. He screamed as he struggled against the dead weight of the wasteborn as the other monsters ignored his fleeing companions to crowd in around him.

"Get off!" He growled as he tried to push the corpse off of him, but the weight was crushing. Absolute. Theo's heartbeat was an erratic crescendo that screeched in time with his talent.

The misshapen face of the reaper wasteborn hung above him as it whipped the scythe down through the corpse into Theo's chest. He grunted as he felt the blade slice through his ribs, slicing deep into his side as he fought to draw enough breath to scream. The wasteborn grinned with teeth that glistened like obsidian. His fingers spasmed as his grip tightened on the corpse of the wasteborn, and his fingers creaked as the reaper tugged its scythe out to swing it down at him again.

His vision swam as the world spun around him. Theo cried with frustration and pain as he felt Nightfire's life start to fade as the wasteborn began to feed on his beloved horse. He pushed against the corpse of the wasteborn and screamed as one of his arms broke from the strain. His talent healed it in a flash of red light as he shifted it. The reaper's scythe pierced through the corpse and severed it as the blade of the scythe cut into Theo's body once more.

He writhed as he twisted free from his pinned state. Sand ground against him as he climbed to his feet, light streaming from the open wounds in his abdomen as his guts pulled back into place as the wounds sealed shut. He ripped his knife free from his belt as he glared at the beasts that had killed Nightfire and were about to kill him.

Buzzing filled his ears as his talent pressed against the invisible barrier that prevented him from using his talent on others. His senses heightened as he began to feel the slow cadence of the wasteborns' heartbeat.

Ba...dum. Ba...dum.

Pause.

Ba...dum.

Theo roared as he dashed forward and swung his knife at the same time the reaper swung its broken sword. His knife sliced clean through the reaper's neck, but it ignored the inconsequential bite of his iron knife as it lurched forward to chomp its teeth into his skull. Red light crackled as Theo's talent tore free from him in a torrent into the reaper as its fangs pierced his skin and crunched his jaw in its bite. He smiled, lopsidedly as he felt the reaper's body as if it were his own.

Break. Theo commanded and his talent was more than eager to obey as every one of the reaper's bones shattered like dry kindling. Brackish blood flooded its body as its capillaries shredded in the wake of his power. Organs exploded.

The reaper wailed with a voice that rasped like the edge of a knife against a whetstone as it stumbled away from him. Its cloying red-brown blood shot from its mouth as it reeled against the death throes of its body shattering bone by bone, vein by vein, and organ by organ. Theo held his hand against his cheek as his face realigned as it rapidly healed the giant hole on the left side of his mouth. He winced at the burn where its blood touched his skin.

Theo panted and watched as the reaper's corpse collapsed in a bloody heap.

Rage thundered in his veins. It throbbed at his temples as he willed the bone and stone scythe that had grown from the reaper's arm to snap free from its corpse and fly into his open grip as he laid into the wasteborn that had fed on Nightfire. His anger boiled over as he used his talent to rip the corpses apart and crush them underfoot as he carved them into pieces. He willed the filth of their waste away in a brackish tide as he knelt at Nightfire's side.

He rested his shaking hands on what was left of Nightfire's flank as he struggled to bring his talent to bear in order to heal his mare. But he knew she was already dead. He felt the utter stillness of her heart, the silence of her nerves. She was gone.

His eyes burned as he stared at the lifeless form of the horse he'd loved and raised.

"Why did you leave me?" he whispered as tears spilled down his cheeks and splashed against the dusty ground. "The whole point was that we'd win together."

He drew on his talent to slow the rapid patter of his heart and find comfort in it. A soothing warmth spread through his body as he curled his fingers tighter around his dying horse's leg. He felt her warm blood pulse through his fingertips as he held on to her with everything he had left.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured as he looked up at the sky. The sun hung low in the sky. Already, night had fallen and the stars shone brightly against the velvet black of the sky as he sat alone beside his dead horse in the middle of the wastes. Nothing but corpses on the other side of the bridge, and here. He turned to the right where the others had gone.

Where they'd abandoned him and Nightfire to die. He rose to his feet as he slung the scythe over his shoulder and stared into the night where the flags had been. Then he turned around and walked back across the bridge towards Aethel.

At least there, he thought, I'll be able to rest now.

Until he got his vengeance on the cowards that had left him behind.