ASHLEIGH.
I felt like I was a pushover. I woke up with no strength. My limbs weren't cooperating, but Atelier was already standing beside the bed, helping me, reminding me that this day is a training day. My headache doesn't help with my mood, but I was told what I had been told. I bathed, I scrubbed my body, and just floated in the golden tub, with the petals of the rose swarming in my nose.
I relaxed for an hour, but after that, I stood tall in front of an enchanted mirror. I looked so beautiful even with the bare face. But I don't admire the face of the woman looking back at me. Who are you, really? Are you really Ashleigh thrown out to this world or are you Devi, the Goddess of War, the identity they are shoving down my throat?
I stood tall, unflinching, my loyal attendants working swiftly with the precision of my armor. The room around me was dimly lit. It was just the torches casting flickering shadows on the walls. Atelier just stood by, keeping an eye on me. She must have kept in mind not to leave another second without looking at me... as if I can leave this place.
Clasping the intricate chains and buckles, the aides adjusted the fine details with care. I remained perfectly still, a stoic expression running in my face. As the helmet was placed upon my head, her mother entered the chamber. I controlled my eyes, and just remained serious.
She stood by me, commanding, her eyes are filled with intense, burning determination.
She wiped a portion of my armor, her gaze both proud and laden, stating, "You must win this trial again. You can never lose. You're at your winning streak, and you can't afford to lose your position. You have to defend it. Your life is at steak."
I listened to every word. How can I plan an escape if this is the condition that was put on my shoulders? No, not mine. It was Devi's life, right? Ashleigh Howell must be a different soul living inside this body of a strong warrior who needs to be perfect all the time.
Even if my heart doesn't want to meet her gaze, I never wavered from it. I should meet my mother's plea. Both of us shared each other's eyes intensity, so I don't have any choice but to nod in silent acknowledgement. I should make a choice: stay here alive or escape this world dead.
Her mother has no hesitation in her. It was deep, unshakable confidence. Her mother thought she's going to thrive and destined to triumph. She stood there for a moment, watching me as the aides of the full splendor of armor. There would be no turning back now. The trial is waiting for me.
My mother clapped, along with Atelier, and she squealed, "Perfect. You're set for the war. I'll escort you to the training grounds."
...
We arrived at the training grounds. The carriage that brought me in the castle was also the one who delivered me to our destination. It lay vast and open. It was an arena forged by the Gods. This is the place of the strongest warriors and mighty deities. The earth beneath was scorched and cracked, the very land was burned with countless battles later back on the eons.
The mountains jagged, looming at the peak of the obscured dark clouds, swirling in the anticipation of the coming trial. The imposing stone walls of the arena was etched with the ancient sculptures and runes, flickering with ethereal light.
The center was prepared for the ground of combat. The mighty weapons left their marks, and there are signs of past battles. A lot of spectators filled the stands, as if the whole kingdom was invited to watch the last trial. When I was mounting down the carriage, I can feel the heavy toll in my heart.
The soul of this body doesn't even know how to fight. I swallowed, believing that Ashleigh Howell, which is me, is a dumb goddess who will ruin the identity of the Goddess of War. A lot of warriors, gods, goddesses, and even normal people had gathered, and me... an afraid woman who was trying to escape this place, was now standing outside of the arena, holding the weight of my responsibility.
'You are not made for here, Ashleigh. What do you think of yourself? You can't even hold a sword.'
Wait, do they even use swords? I believe it's magic. What? What can I do with my hands?
I looked down at my hands. What power can I unleash from here? Do I have to show it off to these hundreds of people right here? They know my history. My name was written across the fetch of their minds. I came inside, and I was hustled to another stands. My mother and Atelier was escorted towards the other pillar, in which I think must be the seats for the audience, especially servants and family members.
I was told to sit down at the last spot. I was seated beside an unknown person who was covered from head to toe. It was adamantly looking straight, as if no one can touch him to move. I found it weird and made faces, but I quickly hide it as someone passed by in front of me.
The trumpets silenced the crowd, and all of them stood up. I was so clueless that I was the last one to stand up. The sound of the instruments were bold and resounding. It was the sharp, blaring notes, echoing through the air, a herald of destiny itself. It is not a simple music, but a string of gravity.
The air is heavy and tense as the King and Queen of Ashes came up at the towering pillar, overlooking the whole arena.
"Pay attention to the King of Ashes, Abraxas, and Queen of Ashes, Chloe."
They waved down at the crowd, but I am left with no cheer in my hands. I didn't even wave, because my eyes were fixated at the man standing at that pillar. I can't decipher who it was, but his stance and posture looked similar to that man... who walked inside the bedroom, the one who trapped me in a wall, and the one who sent me off from his castle.
I can't confirm without looking at his face. I have to confirm at the end of this battle.
I have a goal again: to see that man's face. I mean, the King's face. He might be of help to release me in this world. I had to undergo this absurd thing as if I had the power to lose. I skeptically look around the crowd. A lot of people sat down with the same armor as mine. If I am the winner in each trial before, then I must have killed thousands of people already.
It made my heart sick. Someone have died in my hands?
The King of Ashes' voice came, intoning, "The time has come. The final trial will determine who is worthy to fight the Devil Godkin. He is threatening our kingdom, and we need the strongest warrior among these candidates to fight with him. The chosen one shall wield power over life and death itself. Only one can withstand the flames of the Gods."
It sounded foreign to my ears. I sighed, releasing the frustration. The world seemed distant, and as she closed her eyes, she knew it was not Ashleigh's life, but a vessel for someone's soul: Devi's. If she will be the winner of this trial, how can she fight the Devil Godkin, when she doesn't even know what's happening to her skin? What will she do at this uncertainty?
The trial has started. I was standing at the far end of the arena, beneath the oppressive sky. I was an imposing figure carved of both legend and fear. I should be overwhelming, but I was the one getting the bends of reverence. I don't know how to use my hands, and I was just given one weapon: a sword.
That one thing I can't use. At this moment, I felt useless. Is there any hopes for me to get out of this world?
The rules of the final trial are clear: fight the last winner of the trial. Standing across from me was the first contender to fight. Aren't they confused why I don't even know what I am doing with my sword, my grip was weak and unsteady?
I was trembling in confusion. My mind is a whirlwind of panic, and it was disconnected from the battle, the sword feels more like a weight that I cannot even control. It was meant for my loss than a victory.
The contender moved towards me, and I also did it. In a terrified speed. Without any thoughts in mind, the sword danced in the air, and before I could even react, the sword slipped from my grip. The world has slowed into fraction as the sword clattered to the ground, and everyone gasped.
I got unarmed and vulnerable. My contender has also stopped, as if surprised by my skills.
I stared at the ground, my mind a blur. I had never anticipated this. I wasn't ready. How can I be ready when I can't even control it on my own?
The panic clawed at me. I was caught in the moment of helplessness, and my hands are empty.
I feel Devi's mother glaring at me. This is what I hadn't agreed on. With the cold reality of battle, I crouched down to pick up the sword, but I was threatened by my contender. He put the tip of the sword towards my nape, and it made my world stopped.
How can I dodge this attack if I am that clueless?