The answer to that question wasn't as black and white as it seemed, because as much as Jarren marveled at the fact that he was seeing his novel literally come to life, he was terrified at the fact that he was inside it.
Commander Shoreshanc led him deeper into the Barracks where the assiduous activities were even more tangible. Everywhere Jarren looked, Waveknights were moving around with purpose, some already in full armor, others in the inner-gear or combat-worn garbs.
They walked through one of the floors and Jarren peered above the balustrade, just able to see a bit of the desert-like expanse that furthered into nothing more but more desert-like expanses.
They passed a group who were huddled around a forge, the heat from the fire casting an orange glow on their faces as they sharpened their blades and conversed about the next Wave. Apart from the strong stench of sweat, there was the metallic scent of steel, fear, and anticipation everywhere they turned.
Eventually, they began to descend a stone staircase that was squeezed between two walls in the darker, quieter parts of the Barracks. Jarren of course knew where they were going, however, it didn't make it any less unnerving than it already was.
"Walk faster!" Shoreshanc commanded with a little push. Jarren obeyed, managing to command his new legs better to follow his will.
The air got damper in this place, and on the walls were fluttering torches that offered only dim lights. Jarren began to feel like they were walking into the bowels of some ancient beast.
Finally, they reached a large iron door. Shoreshanc withdrew a key from his belt and unlocked the large chain that protected the door. Then, he pulled it open with a sharp, echoing creak, and revealed an extensive chamber lit by a few flickering lamps hanging from the ceiling.
Eyes turned to them. Almost a thousand pairs it seemed.
These eyes belonged to children who were packed into the dark, vast room like sheep awaiting slaughter. These children were of similar ages to Deremiah Morcant, between sixteen and nineteen.
They were Marked children just like him, chosen to enter the Gates, defeat the Trials, gain great power and defend the Mortal Realm.
But these children here did not seem like they wanted any of it. They were sad and terrified, and it showed in all of their eyes.
"Why are you just standing there?" Shoreshanc shoved Jarren inside. "Get in there!"
Jarren stumbled inside, ignoring the eyes that were watching him and made his way to a darker corner of the room, not wanting to draw more attention to himself.
"Get ready, all of you!" Shoreshanc barked. "The Gates will open any moment and your Trials will begin."
Jarren stood awkwardly in the room with the other Marked children, and he scanned through their faces.
Most of them were dressed in ragged leathers and worn armors, some carried weapons that they had managed to buy, steal or make themselves, many had fear in their eyes.
Just like Jarren, some sat hunched in corners, trembling, while others whispered to one another, trying to comfort or motivate themselves. A few, more stoic ones, were sharpening their swords with steady hands, having expressions of resolution on their faces.
These were the ones who had prepared their whole lives for the Gates, and whose wealthy parents had helped train them as well as purchase authentic and powerful armor to increase their chances of survival and success.
They seemed ready to face the Trials, to defend the Realm.
Many others did not.
There were those who wept silently, others not so silently, a few muttered prayers under their breath.
One boy, barely holding himself together, was gripping a small knife so tightly his knuckles were white, while another girl sat beside him, biting her lip and staring off into space. They were raw, terrified, and the reality of what awaited them hung in the air like a guillotine waiting to fall.
Commander Shoreshanc scoffed. "Just look at all of you. Terrified, hopeless... weak. I know if I gave you the choice right this moment; leave and return to your former lives, or step into Gates and defend your Realm, many of you—if not all—would choose the earlier."
Another scoff, this one with more disdain. "Shameful. If you do not take pride in defending your Realm then you can not take pride in anything. You are unproven and unworthy of respect. Go into the Gates and find yourself some honor, then defend your Realm with it."
The door slammed shut as he left. Jarren could hear the chains clanging once again, signifying that he was about to lock the door. But then he heard some clamor and then heard Shoreshanc yell; "And where have you been! Do you think this is child's play?!!"
The door opened once again, and the Commander basically flung Zenith Moonbreak into the room. It shut after and the chains were locked.
Everyone watched as Zenith pulled himself to his feet, dusted his clothes and walked into the crowd to his sister, Zena, who was sitting by the far wall.
Jarren frowned. Something already seemed wrong. Zenith wasn't here for the speech that Shoreshanc just made, and in the story, he was supposed to be. In fact, that speech played a part in Zenith's resolution moving forward.
A curse escaped his lips. His presence here had already begun to change some events in the story.
Jarren also hadn't forgotten. Zenith was supposed to enter this room ready, steeled by the discovery of Deremiah's body in the bathroom. That was the moment that had pushed him, the catalyst that sparked his resolve to do what it took to survive the Gates.
But now, with Deremiah still alive, Jarren wasn't sure just how resolute Zenith Moonbreak was.
Jarren watched him as he embraced his sister. He felt a little guilty at that moment because he knew that the two were going to be separated once inside a Gate. The Trials were usually faced alone or with someone else selected at random or ran into by coincidence.
And because he wrote the story, Jarren knew that Zenith and Zena were certainly going to get separated.
He scanned the room further, taking in the faces of the other Marked children. He saw some familiar ones—major characters he had written into the story.
He could see Sarah, the red-haired archer specialist with her quiet determination and sharp eyes. She was sitting on the base of a wall next to her own brother, Varion, tall and proud, standing with his arms crossed as he surveyed the room.
Those two would both end up fighting alongside Zenith in the Gates, crucial players in the story Jarren had crafted.
But most of the others here? Extras. Faces that Jarren knew would soon be gone—flesh and blood now, but doomed to die in the Trials. Their fates were already sealed, just as he had written.
However a thought assaulted him wickedly in that moment. Jarren quickly remembered that he was not an onlooker or a reader. He was actually in the story and he was also a Marked child about to be sent into a Gate Trial.
His head snapped down at his own body. He was lanky, weak, and unarmed. Deremiah—the boy whose body he now inhabited—had been so unprepared, so scared that he had taken his own life to avoid the Trials.
So how was Jarren supposed to survive? He had no armor, no weapon, nothing to protect him from the horrors of the Gates that he was about to meet.
A sinking feeling settled on Jarren's chest. 'Am I going to die a second time? Will I get killed by something I created myself?'
Answering this question was a sudden rumbling sound that filled the chamber, causing it to vibrate, low and ominous. Jarren's eyes snapped to the far end of the room and he could see that the massive wall was pulling open.
He could hear drums. Everyone could hear drums, playing beats of anticipation, letting them know what was coming. Light poured inside, piercing the darkness of the hall.
The Marked children all watched the wall rise in fear and awe. Some shielded their eyes from the sudden brightness. Others rose shakily to their feet, weapons in hand, their hearts pounding in their chests.
It was time.
A voice boomed from above, echoing across the fortress like a decree from the heavens.
"Step out, chosen participants of the Gate Trials. Your challenge has begun!"
Jarren's heart dropped.