Eris shook me again.
"Wake up. Wake up."
Her voice cut through my dreams and yanked me into the world of the living. I cracked my eyes open and sunlight stabbed straight into them. I groaned, buried my face in the blanket, and tried to pretend she did not exist.
"Ahhhh. What is it, Eris? Let me sleep for two more hours."
"No. Today is the day, Slyvester. The guild is recruiting again."
Her voice was full of fire and excitement. Meanwhile I was a corpse pretending to be human.
I forced myself upright and rubbed my face.
"What time do we need to be there…"
"Eighty thirty in the morning."
I froze. My brain clicked like a rusted clock.
"It is eight twenty right now. Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"
"I DID try, you lazy idiot. You just growled at me and rolled over."
She grabbed a pillow and threw it at my chest. It was soft, but it felt like the universe slapping me awake.
I stumbled to the bathroom. Cold water hit me like a slap of ice and chased away the fog from my skull. I washed my face, brushed my teeth too fast, threw on something that looked clean, and sprinted out of the house with Eris.
We tore through the elf village, dodging crates, carts, and sleepy morning crowds. My legs burned. Eris yelled at me to hurry every few seconds. My lungs felt like hot rocks but the guild gates were right there, closing inch by inch.
We slipped through at the last second. If we missed it, we would have been locked out for a year. The guild only accepts new adventurer candidates once every summer. When monsters breed and roam freely. When the world becomes more dangerous and the guild needs more bodies to throw into the wild.
Inside, the hall buzzed with nervous chatter. Dozens of hopefuls stood around. Some looked confident. Others looked like they were about to vomit on their boots.
An old man with a cane stood near the stairwell. His beard was pure silver and his eyes razor blue.
"Everyone, this way for the written test."
He led us into a bright white room full of desks. Plain wooden seats. Uncomfortable. When I sat down, every bone in my back whined in protest. Papers blinked into existence in front of us, summoned by magic.
One hour. Monster classifications. Strategy. Basic survival. Military formations and guild history. Nothing impossible. I had studied past exams and this year's set was almost insulting.
When time ended, the papers lifted off our desks and drifted toward the front. They graded themselves. Magic makes everything so convenient. Five minutes later the results came spinning back like obedient birds.
I passed. Eris passed. Most of the room did not.
Now came the real challenge. Registration and physical ranking. The guild sorted adventurers by class. F was the lowest. S was the highest. But behind closed doors, people whispered about a secret rank. A title given to only seven living beings.
The Seven Wonders. Adventurers who bent the laws of the world the way master artists bend paint. Legends disguised as mortals.
A woman at the counter raised her voice.
"Step forward and state your adventurer name. You do not have to use your real name. In fact, we strongly discourage it."
I stood there thinking.
"My name…"
"Slyvester, what name are you going to pick?" Eris whispered.
My uncle Daddy Long Legs. My aunt The Wendigo. My mother Lady Star.
Pieces of them pulsed in my chest.
"I will take a piece of them. I will go with Dawnstar."
"That sounds so cool." Eris grinned.
"Next."
I stepped forward.
"I choose Dawnstar."
"Registration complete. Proceed to the arena. You will face Rex for your ranking."
I thanked her and waved at Eris. She wished me luck.
The arena sat behind the guild, wide and open. Grass trimmed short. Wind whispering across the field. A ring of stone seats surrounded it. Not grand like a colosseum, but big enough to hear fear breathing around you.
I took a seat to wait.
A healer rushed past carrying a stretcher stained with blood. My throat went dry.
The speaker echoed across the stadium.
"Fight number thirteen. The Wandering Witch versus the Mad Clown. Prepare yourselves."
The elf walked onto the field first. Blue hair falling like liquid. Eyes sharp and cold. Every step left ice prints on the grass.
Her opponent stumbled out. A boy in clown paint. Pale white face. Dark rings around his eyes. Red lips stretched into a crooked grin. He looked pathetic and terrifying at the same time.
The witch raised her hands. Frost bloomed in the air around her like winter breath. Ice constructs formed soldiers and rushed the clown. They moved with perfect precision. Spears thrust. Blades cut. Strike after strike.
He kept laughing.
Even when blood dripped from his arms.
Even when his ribs bent under the assault.
Even when she summoned more and more ice warriors.
He stood there, grinning, as if pain was his oxygen.
Then he stopped.
Silence.
Every ice construct shattered.
He lunged and punched her in the face. It was like a hammer smashing porcelain.
A tooth flew. Blood sprayed. Half her jaw hit the ground.
The arena gasped in one voice. No one screamed. Their throats were locked by shock.
He won.
Guild workers spent twenty minutes scrubbing the field. The blood refused to leave the grass. I sat there breathing slow, the weight of this world pressing into my chest.
This was not fantasy.
This was not glory.
This was kill or be killed.
The speaker returned.
"Dawnstar versus Rex. Report to the field and prepare for combat."