Though his mouth was open in a soundless, wrathful scream, Kieran felt no pain. The surrounding blood left him feeling strangely at peace as if he had found a home in its gruesome meaning.
That comfortable feeling didn't last long, though.
With his presence of mind returned to his body, Kieran's connection to the Zenith Frequency also returned. It whispered messages directly into his ear and inside his mind.
[A deep analysis of your existence has been analyzed and compiled. With your current accumulations recorded in the Annals of the Zenith Athenaeum, your Advancing may commence.]
That message came as no surprise to Kieran.
He had done everything he could inside the Trial to remain steadfast in the face of peril, despair, and lastly… power. His mental state may not be what it was when he entered the Trial, but he had no intentions of going over to the metaphorical "dark side."
[Take note, it has been revealed that you haven't completed all the steps of your Advancing. You can idle in this place as you complete that last step, allowing you to undergo a Unique Advancing. Alternatively, you may opt for the general Advancing of the highest order like your peers.]
Kieran moved his arms about as if treading the sea of blood he was submerged in. He could feel it. He was still a Novice. Nothing had changed with his actual body, which proved his assumption of the Trial.
It did not affect him because it wasn't "him."
Still, though his body was not tormented by what he experienced… his mind was. It felt bloated and oversaturated, but he also felt a bit dizzy, likely because his psyche endured a baffling time dilation.
There was a dissonance between thought, action, and understanding going on within his mind. But that didn't stop him from understanding that he craved to go beyond, to push himself to his limits, rest… and do it all over again.
No matter the consequences.
Thus, he answered through his actions rather than words. Kieran closed his eyes and stopped moving, letting the paradoxical currents keep him upright and unmoving.
[Very well, take all the time you need, soon to be Adept.]
…
The portal within the room of muted brilliance emitted a pulse of energy only the Old Myths standing around could feel. It was a verdict of success, which elated the Old Myths, especially Scar, who breathed a sigh of relief so heavy the entire throne room rumbled.
The veil of impenetrable darkness that kept the Old Myths from peering into the happenings of the Trial fell, and that revealed six figures walking toward the exit.
Having six challengers return from a Trial attempt wasn't unprecedented, but having six return with a successful verdict was. The Old Myths couldn't understand the meaning of that.
Astraea looked furtively at Scar, whose expression instantly changed from relief to concern. That concern was slowly morphing into guilt and perhaps… fury.
Worried that their safety may be at risk, Astraea gestured toward Ferreira, who joined her in approaching Scar.
With Ferreira in tow, Astraea felt more confident speaking to the irritated Myth of Mauling.
"Red Myth… calm your anger. You do not yet know of your Inheritor's fate. There's no telling what happened in there."
"Astraea is right, Scar. Before you explode into unsightly rage, let us acquire answers first. The Inheritors — I mean, Successors — are upon us."
The first to exit was Altair, and trailing beneath his feet was a mantle of fluid darkness. There was a pair of ominous eyes peering back into the world from behind him. Those eyes disappeared as quickly as they were sensed, overlapping with Altair's actual eyes, marking them a tinge darker and deeper.
The phenomenon was sensed by all in the room, leading the Old Myths to glance in Zephyr's direction.
Gestalt, the Colossal Myth, smiled brightly, his chiseled face a beam of delight.
"Congratulations on rearing a True Successor. I wonder if his Advancing has culminated a Path."
Also curious, Zephyr arched a brow in Altair's direction.
He nodded, lifting a hand that manipulated the darkness at his feet. It moved according to his whims, and a layer of darkfrost spread across the floor where it passed.
Alfeurza flicked his bow, and a resonant chime echoed in the predominantly empty throne room. His eyes glimmered while watching Altair.
"Oh? The lad has culminated a Path with attributes of darkness, ice, and… I don't know what that final feeling is."
Scar glimpsed the aftereffects of the Altair's actions, instantly understanding what Alfeurza, the Epoch Piercer, missed.
"Control. Darkness, ice, and control."
Scar approached Altair calmly without any hostile intent.
"You there, you're friends with my boy, right?"
Altair nodded, remaining in place without retreating a step. His fingers did fidget, however. The approach of Scar was like the prowl of an enraged beast. His eyes that knew darkness could see something dreadful spilling off of Scar, something too familiar.
"Where is he?"
Altair gulped.
"I… don't know."
Scar furrowed his brows, disliking that answer.
"You don't know. You guys completed the Trial together, yes? How don't you know where he is? You should have met each other back on the bridges."
Sensing growing tension in the room, the Sacred Inheritor — Lunariel, everyone learned her name was — ran up and stood between Scar and Altair.
"Um, sir. Please don't be mad, but there was nothing we could do. We truly didn't clear the Trial together. Before it ended… some absurdly powerful big bad evil guy blinked us out of existence!"
Scar listened to Lunariel stammer her way through her words, sometimes blubbering. Then, he stepped back and reined in his emotions, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"You guys… got blinked out of existence?"
This time, it was Ragnar who answered.
"That is precisely what happened. One moment, we were fighting dreadful creatures that defiled everything, and the next… something inexplicably terrifying descended—"
Ragnar clearly had more to say, but Lunariel butted in, immediately starting her pedantry and obnoxious talking.
"No, no! It didn't descend. It ripped open a doorway like whoosh. Then… it went into Aatrox's body! It was so awkward. We watched him be filled up!".
Scar listened to everything they had to say before becoming incredibly grim.
"What was the name of your Trial? Was that spoken to any of you?"
All of the Inheritor, now rightfully Successors, spoke in unison.
"The Testament of the Dying Blood."
The Old Myths looked at each other, and then all eyes fell on Scar as they watched him gnash his teeth and clench his fists.
"And that big bad evil guy, what would you say his name was?"
Daedric snapped his finger.
"I remember the answer to that one because it was strange but still very cool. Oh, horrifying, too. It was something like the Monarch of Ruin, Argexes!"
Scar scowled, erupting in fury.
"Son of a bitch! That damned accursed, duplicitous bitch! She did this! Why would she give them that Trial out of all things?!"
Astraea grimaced and sympathized with Scar. Usually, she would blame Scar for picking an inadequate Successor, but that wasn't the case right now.
She agreed with him. The Trialmaster had purposely chosen a Trial no Adept… let alone Novice could pass.
But it was strange. The Portal of Seized Time said that they had passed.
Then… where was the final Inheritor?
Scar was about to storm out of the Hero's Sanctuary and trespass into the Land Above, but Altair grabbed his arm.
"Wait, don't go. Have faith that he will return. I believe in him above anyone else."
