The howls were coming from somewhere up ahead. Oyzal was hesitant, he lacked the desire to investigate and yet the howls blocked the path. The madra concentration here was decent, which should ensure his survival. He was interested in knowing what the beasts were howling away at, their cries growing in ferocity as he took steps towards them. An almost transparent fume of madra passed in front of him, barely discernible except for the white edges. A glowing cover of roots and leaves blocked his path, cries from the other side. His hand darted towards the holding cell attached to his right, a sword followed.

He nudged the bush to the side, opening a pathway. Oyzal ducked underneath and was confronted with what appeared to be a clearing. There was a single tree at its centre, withered and dying if not dead. And back against it was a girl, her coppery gold hair shining under the beams of light. A spot of red around the ankle. Oyzal caught all of this in a glance as his gaze was swiftly attracted to the beings in backing the girl to the tree. They were wolves with purple mist like manes flying towards the heavens. The canines glittered with menace and there were four of them.

The possibility of encountering an animal was high but Oyzal was now staring at mythical beasts, more than one. This was an encounter he had no intention of enduring so he decided to back away. Poor girl, he thought. The thought had not enough conviction to prevent him from leaving the scene. And then maybe the heavens intervened because the girl's head turned, looking straight at Oyzal. He felt those blue eyes piercing through him, rooting him to the spot. She was at least a few dozen feet away and yet Oyzal could discern her features with clarity. She appeared panicked, her chin quivering as her gaze remained locked on him, holding his dark eyes. Oyzal cursed inwardly, he could not flee now.

Oyzals core was the size of a thumbnail but circular. He was a novice, one of the few taking parts in the trial. It would be extremely embarrassing if he failed especially given the fact that ten would be allowed to join the Outer Sect, the ten first to reach the end of the forest.

Oyzal was still far from the end. And now he had to take on these mythical wolves, for what? He questioned himself, sighed thinking about the girl. He circulated his core, felt the trickle of madra flowing into him and then slowly spread throughout his body. The sword felt lighter, sounds were clearer and his vision gained added sharpness. He jumped through the last bits of the bush, exhilarating at the feel of this new madra infused strength. Oyzal for the moment felt he was dancing on clouds, the grass underneath his feet felt comforting. The sound caught the attention of the beasts, as they eerily turned their heads to gaze at him. He charged straight at them, the madra boost muddling his thoughts.

He was faster, fast enough to dodge to the left by placing his weight on his left foot and bringing down his sword on the first purple wolf. It yelped, pain clear from the voice. Three were in front of him now, a metallic tinge filled the air around him. Dense madra floated away from the wolf that lay dormant at his feet. These were not powerful mythical beasts, one blow from him should never have been able to put them down. It told Oyzal all he needed to know about the condition of the girl, she was not a novice. Growls emanated from ahead and so Oyzal charged again. The wolves took their cues from him and rushed as well. But Oyzal had madra flowing through him and with it, he leapt over the wolves as they almost came upon him. Oyzal spiraled midair and landed behind the wolves but he was facing their backs. Oyzal charged and slashed the back of the middle wolf, its cry of pain felt strong enough to pierce his enhanced hearing. It collapsed, back broken, madra flowing to the world. The wolf to Oyzals right reacted the quickest as it leapt for him. Oyzal ducked into a roll, turned and slashed in a left to right arc, cutting through the wolf. It was not a clean-cut as the madra suddenly started to dissipate away from his veins. His sword got stuck midway through, no longer did he have enough strength to cut through. Thank heavens, it was enough. But not enough to prevent the sweat that started to formulate on his skin. He had another beast to deal with. This was why Oyzal had charged recklessly, his core would not have allowed him a prolonged fight and he had guessed that no beasts present in the forest would have the capability to harm him and his base. And now, his madra had run out. His breaths became heavier as the whole world seemed to collapse into him. The sword felt heavier, his muscles were tired. His body was not ready yet to sustain madra based infusions, that would happen when he became an Expert.

As Oyzal drew laboured breaths, the last wolf looked around at its fallen comrades. It pointed its head towards the heavens, the purple coat billowing without wind. It howled, the sound carried a tone of hurt that touched Oyzals soul and then with one glance at him, it ran off into the forest.

The expression of relief on the girl was almost palpable. She was covered in sweat and her ankle was twisted, bloody. Bits of dust marked her blue robe but not as distinctly as the red flower printed just below her right shoulder. She stared as Oyzal made his way towards her, making no effort to get up. Her ankle was swollen to the point where the straps of her sandal were visibly taut.

"Does it hurt?", Oyzal asked as he crouched near her.

A flash of anger passed through her eyes. "I'm in pleasure."

Oyzal grimaced but did not let it show on his face.

"Understood", said Oyzal. He then nodded, turned and started walking away.

"Help", came the plea.

Oyzals lips curled for a moment before he returned to the base of the tree. He peered into the wound, deftly laid a finger on the swollen ankle. The girl's features twisted into a grimace but no sounds escaped her cracked lips.

"What happened?" Oyzal asked.

"I was chased, stumbled at the edge of the clearing", she replied through gritted teeth.

A flush of admiration swept through Oyzal, he understood the turmoil she must have gone through. The clearing was a few dozen feet away and to Oyzals understanding, she couldn't lean on madra to carry her to the base of this tree, only sheer will and determination. Her face was now covered by a red flush.

"Will have to cut the sandal off. May hurt" Oyzal said. The girl nodded, she was game and she did not appear to be any older than him.

Oyzal had his sword out and located the part of the heel that left a slight gap between the sandal and the foot. There were three straps, one around the swollen part, one above and one below. All three joined to form a sort of knot towards the end. A type of sandal he had never seen. He needed something to distract her, she was staring intently at him.

He held her eyes. "What is your name?"

Just as she uttered something that sounded close to "Iza", Oyzal's sword swept through the heel and the knot, releasing the straps hold on her swollen ankle. An extremely audible release of air escaped from her lips, relief. It was a technique he had learned from Giller, one Giller used on him, often.

"Do you have a balm?" he asked.

Her eyes were closed as she soaked in the relief but her head nodded in affirmation. She pulled a storage chip from somewhere within her robe and tossed it towards him. When Oyzal caught it, it had taken on the form of a black hefty bag. It was of good quality, the bag had the feel of velvet. Oyzal marvelled at the feel, his own was shabby. He looked inside and surprise flickered through his countenance. It was brimming with pills, liquids and other sorts of treasures of high quality, a sweet aroma being the testament to the quality of the goods inside. Too bad she was not a novice, storage chips would not open for someone without a core. Oyzal rummaged through the various items inside the bag and found what appeared to be a balm. A sweet smell emanated from the disk-like container as he took on a glob of pink material on the tips of his right hand. It was as he approached her again did Oyzal realised the Sun was descending. The beams of light were shallower, a few shadows showed themselves from the edges of the clearing.

Oyzal gently rubbed the cold balm onto the girl's swollen ankle, her eye was still closed. She let out a soft moan as his fingers rubbed the swollen area. Oyzal was glad he didn't have to use his materials, he was not prone to sharing. He dipped his fingers into the container again when a warmth spread just below his wrists, the girl's fist closing around it.

"No more", she said.

Her voice more clear now, like the sound of distant chimes. She moved, placing herself in a more comfortable position. The flush of red was leaving her face and her countenance visibly improved. Oyzal looked at the container but there were no marks to give him any signs of how she seemed to have recovered so quickly.

Seeing his expression of disbelief, the girl's lips curled into a hint of a smile.

"It contains healing madra", the girl said.

If possible, Oyzals eyebrows would have reached the heavens. Healing madra was always heard of, rarely seen and rarely used. He was convinced that the girl belonged to one of the wealthier families in the Southern States. He quickly put the container back into the holding chip and extended the chip towards. She took it with a nod.

Oyzal turned now towards the mythical beasts, their bodies evaporating into madra and then into mist. He thrust his hand through the chest of the closest beast, the body resisting him with the consistency of smoke. He pulled the core out, a purple coloured core the size of a walnut. It had transparency about it which demonstrated its weakness. In the same way, he pulled the cores out of the two. They would sell well, his lips curled. A delicacy for the non-divines. His thoughts travelled to the girls holding chip for a moment. He was tempted but shrugged it off. Oyzal pulled out the holding chip that he had stitched into his black belt. His holding chip turned into a broken down box, a bit of dust escaped. He was embarrassed but did not let it show as he put the two cores inside. He took the remaining core and walked over to the dead tree. The whole clearing was close to being enshrouded in darkness. He was surprised to not have met any other trialists but shrugged, heavens will.

Oyzal extended the core towards the girl. "Do you want it?"

She sighed. "What good would it do me?"

"I know, I was just being courteous", he replied with a flash of his teeth as he popped the core into his mouth. It had a faint metallic taste and then was bland. He felt the small amount of madra it had dispersed into his veins. Good, it would do for the night before his core got replenished. He would walk, as far as he could before needing to rest. The trial usually took a couple of days at the very list, Giller had told him. Oyzal was not too concerned about failing, being one of the few if not the only Novice amongst this cycles trialists. The girl was lucky he was here, he wondered if the same had been killed. That would be rare as well. Day one had proven to be exciting enough and it was time for Oyzal to leave. He turned towards the girl, noticed that her arms were wrapped around her knees while her eyes were closed. Meditating? Maybe she was trying to break through to a novice, Oyzal mused. At least she could lend weight to her ankle. A thank you would have been nice, he thought

Oyzal cleared his throat. "Well then, hope you make it to the end."

He clasped his fists and gave a slight bow before swiftly turning.

"Wait", came a cry from behind for the second time.

Oyzal turned, the girl was standing now. She was tall, reaching above his chin. She did favour her left leg as she stood with support from the tree. The darkness failed to hide the paleness of her skin.

"Thank you", her voice floated to him. The chimes were more melodious, stronger. Her chin was raised, proud. It seemed like she rarely relied on help from someone else. Oyzal nodded as he pulled out an orb of orange light from his holding chip and placed it between them.

"I have a request", she said.

Oyzal raised his right eyebrow, cursed inwardly, realising she might not be able to see under the dim light. The dusk globe had not shown itself yet. He pulled out an orb of orange light from his holding chip and placed it between them.

"Yes?", he said.

"You have a core, no?" she asked.

"Yes", Oyzal replied.

"Then help me finish the Opening", she said.

Oyzals mind started racing, opportunities opened up. She was rich and he thought about her holding chip again.

"Why?", Oyzal asked.

"Because I am weak and out of my element", she whispered back as if the answer were a confession forced out of her.

"No, I meant why should I", Oyzal said. It seemed her self belief had suffered cracks but she had enough strength to admit them. Oyzal was impressed.

"What do you want?" she asked, her chin raising a bit more.

"What do you offer?" Oyzal asked, treasures playing in his mind.

"My holding chip", she offered.

"Will do", the answer shot out of Oyzals mind before he could think. He grimaced, visibly now. A smile appeared on the girl's face.

"On your soul?", she asked. Shrewd, thought Oyzal. He couldn't help smiling as he nodded.

"Your name?" he asked again.

"Izar", she answered.

Oyzal places his eyes on her. "I, Oyzal, promises to take Izar through the Opening".

"I, Izar, upon the completion of the Opening will hand over my holding chip to Oyzal", she said.

"Let our souls be bound to this oath we say today", they said together.

A gentle breeze passed through Oyzal, the weight of Izars soul. The impact of a violation from Oyzal would not harm him much considering the lack of core present in Izar. The formation of the core is the first step in tying oneself to the divine. As a result, those who pursue the treasures of divinity are known as divine artists.

Oyzal stood on the first flight of stairs in the pursuit of divine arts. They say the strongest can make mountains break like glass, seas to appear in deserts and storms in cloudless skies. Many a night, Oyzal had spent thinking about the tales of the powerful, wistful yearning of a child who seeks gold. And now, he was here. Completing the Opening would take him to the Outer Sect. From there, real power. And then, his father. Oyzal could not prevent the sigh from escaping.