The Colosseum was a vast pit of excitement, its formidable wooden walls containing the anticipation of the crowds. A sea of faces flooded the circular pit where Milo and Lok now stood. In the Warden's Pavillion, Risea rose as he delivers an announcement.
"My dear spectators, today we gather for an extraordinary spectacle! Our contenders are Milo and Lok, two individuals ready to undertake the trials that await them.
"The rules of this contest are as follows, our brave combatants will face three trials. Each will progressively test their mettle, demanding strength, resilience, and cunning. What these trials will entail, I'm afraid, remains a mystery to them until they are faced with it." Risea explains, gesturing with his hands for emphasis.
A murmur ran through the crowd, as they too were kept in the dark alongside the contenders.
"Failing this trial bears dire consequences. Should they lose, Lok will remain a captive within our city, while Milo will embark on his journey to Palpeo alone. To succeed, they must utilize any means necessary. There will be no restrictions, no limitations as to how they'll win. The only objective is victory!"
"That's not fair!" Lok shouts out towards the Pavillion. Risea looks down at him with a grin.
"I believe that it is fair," Esron speaks up, "for we elves were always within the confines of our own realm. It will not make a difference for Lok, no? This trial was set up to conclude whether or not you two will be able to survive in the outside world."
"But Milo still gets to go even if we fail!" Lok retaliates childishly.
"Milo is not one of us." Risea says, the colosseum hushing at the brutally honest statement. A moment of silence ensues, until-
"But I won't be sent out alone. Lok is coming with me. We will beat this trial!" Milo declares, causing the quite colosseum to cheer once more. Esron chuckles to himself.
"He does speak like a leader of some sorts." Esrons says to Risea beside him.
"He has the confidence of one." Risea adds. He looks down at Lok, who's eyes are gleaming with hope after hearing Milo's words. He closes his eyes and sighs.
"Who would've known, Lok finally has a friend." He tells Esron. He takes in a deep breath and puffs his chest.
"And with that, let us commence!" Risea shouts, signaling the start of the trial.
Esron lifted a single finger. A mighty tree erupted from the center of the colosseum, its branches spiraling upwards, transforming the pit into a treacherous vertical labyrinth. Obstacles sprung to life from its branches- swings dangled, thorns sprouted, wooden sentinels appeared from hidden alcoves, and hostile plants lashed out.
High above the canopy of the tree on its plateau, there was a shimmer of emerald. A magnificent crystalline sap, as green as the lush forests and as clear as the rivers, rested atop a podium on the plateau. It glowed with a life of its own, bathing the colosseum in a verdant light. The crystalline sap was of a significant size, comparable to the size of a watermelon.
"Observe, the objective of their trial! The contenders must climb this labyrinthine tree and face the perilous challenges that lie in wait. Claim the crystalline emerald sap from its summit will mark the end and success of their trial." " Risea says as he stretched out his hand, pointing toward the pinnacle of the tree.
A gasp ran through the spectators as they looked to the daunting height of the tree. Amidst the hushed whispers and excited murmurs, Risea continued speaking.
"They must be wary. For the sap is dangerously guarded." As he said that, the hostile plants, the wooden sentinels, and various traps all sprung to life. They all waited in their positions to face the contenders that will arrive, willing to defend the emerald sap with their lives.
As Risea's words died out in the colosseum, an obvious tension built up. All eyes fell upon Milo and Lok, standing firmly on the ground.. They seemed to be studying the colossal tree, mentally preparing for the difficult task that will decide their destiny. The silence stretched on, until finally, the boys placed a single step forward. With their bodies coiled and ready, Milo and Lok charged forward.
-
A few months ago, back in Gabble Grove, Milo and Lok were seated in front of the loud tree entity. Except that time his voice did not bother them,
"I remember when Esron and Risea were your age. You two are a lot like them, you know?"" Gabble began.
"Is that right, Gabble? Tell us more." Milo, ever the listener, jested as he leaned in. Lok, on the other hand, tilted his head, looking deep in thought.
"Milo, like Risea, you possess a silent strength, guided by your unwavering resolve. And you, Lok, embody the same lighthearted spirit as your uncle Esron. You find joy in every step of your journey." Gabble began explaining. Lok's face lights up with a smile when he was compared to his uncle.
"Despite Esron's playful disposition, demonstrated remarkable aptitude with Gaia. On the other hand, Risea was a tower of physical might, a solid bedrock in his own right." Gabble continued, nostalgia filling its barky features, creating a sentimental expression on its face.
"How did you come to existence, Gabble? Were you created or did you just happen to exist?" Lok asked.
"Your great great ancestor, Lok, gave me this purpose. After our peaceful elven race was forced to seal our borders, fleeing from a catastrophic invasion, I was created to ensure we were prepared for any future disasters.
"The elves were and still are the most peaceful race on the face of this planet. They don't bother the outside world nor do they want to be bothered. Thanks to the blessing of the world tree, Primdrasil, the city is a self-sustaining and will continue to be for centuries to come." Its voice took a somber tone as it continued to speak. Milo spoke up again.
"What about Primdrasil? How did it become what it is now?" He asked. Lok's eyes spark as he was prepared to answer that question.
"The same ancestor that created Gabble!" Lok said. But he then didn't continue in his usual sense, the question he wanted to ask popped in his mind.
"Why were my father and uncle singled out for your training, Gabble?" Lok asked.
"That's a story I will tell you eventually, but now's not the time! Stand time, it's time to continue our training!" Gabble ordered, the boys groaning as they stood up.
-
BAM! The ground shook as an impact vibrated throughout the colosseum, the passing through the soles of Milo and Lok's boots. A small cloud of dust mushroomed into the air, creating a thick haze. The dust particles separating to reveal a pair of menacing, green glowing eyes.
Without warning, a massive lance, made from gnarled wood, sliced through the haze. It swung towards the two boys with alarming speed, the air humming as it carved through it. Milo and Lok sprang back, each landing a safe distance away just as the lance swiped the space where they had stood seconds before.
As the dust began to settle, the shape of a hulking sentinel emerged. Standing three times the size of an ordinary sentinel, it radiated powerful energy. It had four arms, each looking extremely muscular. It was wielding two lances, one held with each pair of hand.
"Shall we?" Lok asks, turning to look at Milo as he juggled his daggers.
"We shall." Milo says, gripping the hilt of his sword tighter as he flourishes it.
The colosseum felt quite and still, serenity contrasting the situation presented. The crowd held their breath in anticipation. Then the dust under the boy's feet began to slowly levitate just centimeters above the ground. They were surging their Gaia.
The spectral cyan of Milo's aura manifested around him. His aura was calming, serene, a personification of his steadfast nature. On the other hand, Lok's aura manifested in a fierce, green hue, mirroring his impulsive, energetic spirit.
The two launched into a synchronized charge towards the hulking sentinel, their auras trailing behind them. The colosseum, silent until now, erupted in cheers as the duo advanced.
A guttural roar soared through the air in the pit, a war-cry born from the hulking sentinel. The once green aura flared to life, turning into a fierce red color, denoting its bloodlust. It was an intimidating spectacle that sent a wave of dread throughout the colosseum. Everyone felt a chill creep down their spines, except the Wardens and the boys.
Within the crowd, Ayref's hands flew to her eyes in worry.
"Those boys... they're but children..." " she breathed, sounding as if she was going to pass out. Nido, who was at her side, reached out and placed his hand reassuringly on her back.
"Have faith, Ayref, they will be fine." he implored. His words seemed to have calmed Ayref, denoted by her body relaxing a little.
Risea couldn't help but turn to look at his parents. Their worry, their hope - it was all too familiar. His eyes lingered on them for a moment, before he turned back to the arena, his mind repeating Nido's words as if he is the one that needed reassurance.
His faith lay firmly with the boys, his son especially: the next of their line. Feeling more confident in Milo and Lok, Risea watched as the boys raced towards their formidable foe.