My legs feel weighted with lead as I force them forward, one reluctant step after another. My heart hammers against my ribs. I imagine the other offerings feel the same thing I felt as I watched others enter these doors. Relief it wasn't my turn yet. Guilt for feeling relief.

I take a deep breath and step through the doorway. The doors slam shut behind me with a sound like judgment, locking me inside with whatever horrors wait in this chamber.

The metallic taste of fear floods my mouth as I take in the circular room, far larger than I'd expected. The air crackles with power and smells of storms, burnt flesh, and the unmistakable tang of blood—so potent it makes my stomach heave. My heart thunders in my ears, drowning out everything but the screaming of my instincts to run, to hide, to escape. I force down the bile rising in my throat and scan the room, trying to steady my breathing.

That's when I see them. Bodies. Dozens—maybe hundreds—scattered across the floor in grotesque positions. People who stood where I'm standing not long ago, people who failed whatever test awaits me.

I swallow a scream of terror when I spot Nolan's wide, unblinking eyes staring from his charred corpse. His fingers are curled like claws, as if he'd tried to fight the fire that consumed him. A fire that couldn't have been natural—his clothes are barely singed while his flesh is blackened, like he burned from the inside out.

The scream building in my chest gets trapped behind clenched teeth, transforming into a strangled whimper that sounds pathetic even to my own ears. I force my eyes away from the carnage and look up at the chamber's vaulted ceiling, which disappears into shadow. With a shaky breath, I find some semblance of calm. I'm either going to die here, or I'm going to survive. Either way, I'd rather do it with my chin held high.

I walk up a series of steps, gradually bringing the "test" into view, along with my first glimpse of… them. I avert my eyes at first, almost like looking away from the sun on a bright and clear day, focusing instead on the mundane.

I look at the four decorative stone pedestals, each supporting a vessel.

A bowl of black soil that smells of loam and decay. A silver brazier holding blue-white flames that dance and twist as if alive. A glass sphere filled with swirling air currents visible only through the dust they carry. A basin of water so still it resembles polished crystal, reflecting the room like a perfect mirror.

And behind each vessel stands an elemental of the corresponding element.

Elementals.