"Do you have any knowledge about what the trial is, or how to prepare for it?"
"Hmm, I don't understand all of it," Sable whispered.
"But the trial is meant to determine whether we are accepted into the academy, and if we are worthy of Enlightenment, or so the elders say."
He continued.
"But something seems strange. When we first came here, they made it sound so simple, like there was no danger, but I am almost certain there is. Sadly... All we can do is wait and find out"
As his brows knit slightly, Oren frowned.
'They had been lied to about the trial's nature? No matter.'
The only thing that truly mattered to Oren was his success. No matter how many times he had failed, or was going to fail in the future, it was all irrelevant at this current moment.
Because failure in this situation meant he had taken this chance for granted.
In this world, it seemed the most promising way forward was to become Enlightened, and so, there was no way around it.
Beside him, Sable lowered his gaze as he spoke. "It would be smart to listen now, you know. The elder is explaining the procedure now."
Yet what the elder spoke of was not the ritual itself, but something far more important, and far more intriguing to Oren.
"...Enlightenment."
He spoke sternly, raising his chest.
"Does anyone know what enlightenment truly is?
What does it mean to become enlightened?"
Elder Idris' gaze sharpened.
"Tell me, did the clans you reside in teach you nothing? Did they not even tell you that enlightenment begins with sensing the world's energy?"
'World energy?' Oren crossed his arms as Elder Idris exhaled before speaking again. Though, someone spoke up first.
"Don't we just go into the trial, overcome the individual's obstacle which is set for us to complete, and receive the rank of an Enlightened, blessed by the very world, and able to use the energy that runs throughout?"
The student had said it confidently enough to persuade Oren and several other uninformed candidates.
But for some reason, the elder seemed disappointed.
Even muttering under his breath:
"No... no, this will not do, will it?"
He exhaled slowly.
"You are right, but you are still mostly unaware. Do not worry, it is not your fault. We still lack information ourselves, but because of the ignorance you were raised with, precious time will be wasted on the things all of you should already know.
"Anyways, I will save talk of enlightenment until you have reached it. How you reach it is why I am here."
His eyes moved across the hall.
"To put it simply, you do not have long. So listen well, candidates. No one knows the set date of the trial. It varies often, like the sunwane.
"But we suspect you have one week at most."
"One week? Until it starts... but that's so soon! That's not fair."
Elder Idris raised his voice above the murmurs.
"That is when the trial begins, and that is the only time you have to prepare."
Walking along the front rows of students, Elder Idris smiled faintly.
"The trial decides whether you remain in this academy and if you're worthy of being blessed by the world and granted enlightenment, that much is true."
He glanced at the candidates, then at the surrounding elders.
"But the trial you take will not be fun and games. I suspect that among the hundreds of you here in this hall, there will only be a handful who will pass the trial with flying colours.
"In your trial, you will face what you long for.
"As far as we know, that may include loved ones, dead relatives, failed achievements, maybe something you lost that you want back. Whilst I doubt you have many regrets at your ages.
"Whatever you long for, it will most likely turn twisted. Don't grow attached to anyone you see, because they may very well be the enemy and your one way out into returning."
Elder Idris stopped in the middle of the central aisle.
"What happens if we fail?" a young girl's voice rang out.
"If there is no way to prepare, how will we succeed? Hmm, elder, even you know failure is certain if we go into it blind... my broth..."
She fell silent as Elder Idris continued coldly.
"In the Trial of Longing, there is no correct way to prepare. For the mind cannot be sharpened like a blade.
"The trial will be cruel. You have no guide.
"You just have to be smart about it. None of you are completely useless.
"The trial is equal. There will always be a way to prevail. It is fair, in a way. Whatever you face, you will have an equal chance of success and failure.
"Your mind and your resolve will be your only weapons.
"Because unlike trials that focus on other aspects, for example, the physical, this one is rare.
"You will face something neither flesh nor spirit."
A quiet ripple of wariness passed through the hall. No one dared interrupt the elder, despite having so many questions to ask.
Oren had many questions as well.
He briefly wondered how the trial had changed so drastically from physical to mental.
Perhaps he knew too little about this world to judge it.
In the end, he watched silently as elder Idris walked with a dim smile on his face.
"Those who pass it before the fourth day will be given the highest marks. Finishing it between the fourth and the seventh day will be considered a pass.
"But do not let that delude you. There are no second chances. Once it starts, you cannot leave until you finish.
"You will only have seven days. And if you are even a moment late, you fail."
"In order to prepare for this major event, you must isolate yourselves for what comes after the trial.
"Dive deep into meditation, concentration, and refinement. Feel your body and your senses. When you succeed, when you overcome the Trial of Longing and become able to feel the world's currents, its essence, then, with time, you will understand.
"You will be able to utilize things that require world energy, gaining the benefits of the Enlightened."
A faint crease formed between Oren's brows.
"For your other question, it is quite simple, actually. Losing in the Trial will be the end of your sanity, resulting in death."
The words drained what little hope remained. The hall grew heavier, as though the air itself had thickened. A few swallowed.
His gaze passed over the hall, slow and deliberate.
A chill ran through Oren's body, his fingers tightening slightly at his sides.
"If you fail the trial, what happens to you will be out of our hands.
"That is why your success proves your innate talent. It is your choice whether you stay or leave before then.
"If you leave now, that is only proof the trial will lead you to insanity, so don't hesitate.
"Leave if you deem yourself unfit."
His eyes darkened, staring at the rows of people with a somber expression.
"That is why I'm giving you this chance. Stay and succeed, or leave and face the world as you are now. But if you fail," he said softly.
"You will not see the light of the eighth day."
...
Before dismissing the candidates, the academy bestowed each of them with a small pouch containing the currency of Unison.
Elder Idris had said, "As your families are not allowed to interfere with the academy's rules and conditions, your only source of money, food, and lessons will be this academy. You will be given a weekly allowance and a curfew."
At first, Oren did not care about the curfew. He wanted to understand what he was holding. He couldn't read, after all, but looking at the symbols, that was what it was called.
They called it Yie.
It seemed that, though he could communicate with the people in Revos Verum, he could not read their language or their books.
But it seemed relatively similar to what he grew up learning, and so it would not take long to learn.
To his luck, using currency did not need much understanding.
This currency specifically resembled a round coin, ten of them to be precise, yet their material was difficult to identify.
They were neither clearly metal nor stone, but something in between, cold and strangely smooth to the touch.
One side bore the engraving of a half-circle. The other, a cross.
Beneath the symbol, etched in precise lettering, were words Sable had whispered aloud.
"Currency of Unison."
...
Days passed quietly after the Trial Assembly. And yet, one question plagued his thoughts.
What made Revos Verum a ruined realm?
A curse...? Were all the curses the same? Or did they differ?
In some twisted sense, it could even be called a blessing to the mortals.
It bestowed enlightenment. At first, he had thought it was a religious ascension, an internal one of the mind.
If that was so, he would most definitely have failed. Oren himself was far from being religious; he had probably never offered a prayer before an altar.
Strange impulses of sudden feeling and sudden thought were common in such types.
Choosing to watch those who could be ignorant and yet so aware with an almost diminutive admiration.
But no, this seemed to awaken a sense, a connection. Which could also mean becoming closer to divinity and ascension.
But at a grand cost.
Fail, and you died.
It was only a suspicion, yet he knew enlightenment was only the tip of the iceberg.
The more he heard, the more he wanted to know. His interest was born purely from ignorance.
Because in the place he came from... in his home... there were no Enlightened, no ranks, only him and the pitiful humans who dwelled there.
And now, he was fighting for something they had never been given the chance to experience... something he was entitled to, in his own way.
But that feeling did little to ease the burden which weighed heavily on his fragile mind, making him wonder.
'I no longer want death, or eternal rest. The peace I once wished for no longer matters. A peace I spent an arduous stretch of time seeking.'
'...So what do I long for?'
He could no longer see it through the narrow lens he once trusted, the lens that had told him the only path to peace was through death, through the absence of consciousness, through the complete erasure of sentience.
More importantly, the new information did not only affect him, but the countless other students in the assembly who wished to become enlightened.
Because death was no longer an abstract concept whispered about in halls.
It was a real possibility that caused all students internal pandemonium.
Many of the candidates within the academy were soon thrown into distress, having only days left to prepare for the unpredictable, trying to understand themselves more than the trial.
Even Sable looked somehow bloated from stress and seemed far more reserved, more uneven. His light blue, dim, blurry, dreary eyes seemed to be full of emptiness.
The same was true for many others.
But, being the first person Oren had really spoken to, he had thought the boy to be shy and quiet.
But this was above his expectation.
The same thing happened with several other candidates he had hovered around in the days.
But he himself usually stayed to himself.
But to think, he was so similar to these children despite being far older then them.
Maybe he was still yet to mature.
As the sun waned outside, the world seemed to dull, and with it, the resolve of many candidates.