It did not take Ruena long to find out exactly what Bastion had in mind for the crisis. There was a podium in the center of the training ground, and on it was set something Ruena found very familiar. A single white pawn, identical to the ones she had seen countless times in the Valen king’s chess set. As always, the piece felt oddly ominous. She had never seen it in action before but she had heard that the chess set doubled as the Valen king’s personal guards.

  “Am I to fight that?” Ruena asked.

  “Fight it? No,” Bastion denied immediately, “You have no hope of winning. For now, your only goal should be to slow it down. The best way to bring out your natural instincts is to go up against a foe stronger than yourself. Rather than defeating it, the focus of this training will be to escape the training arena.”

  Save for the small amounts of furniture scattered around the edges, the arena was a wide open space. She had no idea what to expect from the pawn once it went into attack mode, whether it be size, speed, or strength. For all she knew, the training had already begun. If that was the case, there was no time to waste.

  Ruena turned on her heel to step right back out of the arena from where she had entered, breaking into a sprint when she heard the terrible crashing and crumbling from behind her. It was coming! Bastion wouldn’t put her life in danger, but that didn’t mean she could take things easy. The Valen were known for destroying minds and even souls without causing any physical harm.

  It was even worse because Ruena could not spare a glance backward to see what she was running from. Every step she took it was gaining on her. Just when she thought she was about to reach the exit, something caught her around the waist and pulled her backwards. That was how, without even being able to lay eyes on the enemy’s true form, Ruena found herself deeper within the arena than she began.

  “You run faster than I expected,” Bastion congratulated, “I haven’t seen many last more than a few seconds on their first try.”

  How long had she lasted? Ruena couldn’t be sure, but it must have just barely beaten the record. Adrenaline was still pumping through her veins as her heart raced uncontrollably. “Is this how you train everyone?”

  “Just promising weaponsmasters,” Bastion answered, “You will find food, drink, and spare clothing in the arena for you, as well as a private space to take care of your needs. If you cannot manage to escape by nightfall I will come rescue you.”

  He was leaving? It was barely morning. How was she meant to stay there until nightfall? First things first, she should find the food and other necessities he had mentioned. Would that thing react to them as much as it did to her attempting to escape?

  After investigating her surroundings Ruena found out exactly what she had to work with. Firstly, the pawn only reacted when she moved towards the exit. Approaching any of the other things in the arena was fair game. The food and drink were provided in a special cabinet that had Soral magic all over it. There was a small private room in the wall of the arena opposite of the exit where she could take care of all of her private needs.

  Then there was the collection of small objects Ruena had unearthed. She laid them all out on the small table next to the cabinet and rickety stool. A hand mirror, a hair tie, a key that unlocked the drawer where she had found the hand mirror, a painting of something she couldn’t describe in vibrant colors, and a dented spoon. There was also a sheath wedged into the side of the drawer that looked rather worse for wear, but it was missing a blade to go with it.

  Bastion had told Ruena that she needed to use the surroundings, the situation, and anything she could get her hands on and turn it into a weapon for her to escape. That meant that somehow she should be able to use these items for just that, but how? Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out. She had to keep confronting the pawn to find a weakness.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  It didn’t take Ruena long to realize something was strange. No matter how hard she tried to get a look at the pawn’s true form, it would be an ordinary chess piece whenever she laid eyes on it. That might mean that it could not let her see its true form for some reason. Did that mean it was trapped so long as she was looking?

  Carefully keeping her eyes on the tiny stone pawn, Ruena shuffled backwards towards the exit. There was no way it would be that easy. She was right. While it seemed unable to take its true form while she watched it, that didn’t render the chess piece entirely immobile. With the speed of a self propelled arrow, it shot past her, transforming the moment it was behind her back, and dragging her to the back of the arena once more.

  Now what? The second the pawn was out of sight, it was over. It was potentially even faster as a pawn than in its true form, so should she look over her shoulder at the right moment after running? Ruena tried it. Nope. Back at the start.

  Her ribs were starting to hurt from being dragged back so roughly. Just like the pawn itself, whatever kept grabbing her was just as hard as stone. Perhaps if she tried to get a look at it as it was dragging her back? Definitely not. That only resulted in her being thrown instead of just dragged.

  What should she do now? Her pride wouldn’t allow her to sit back and wait for rescue. She needed to get out of here as soon as possible and walk straight up to Bastion with her head held high. Ruena knew that he wanted her to fail. He had been reluctant to show her the ways of the weaponmaster from the start. That was even more reason why she had to prove him wrong.

  There had to be something she could work with. The mirror was an obvious choice, but if she ran while holding a mirror it was likely to shatter when she was caught. That meant she would only get one chance as the shards would be too close to the exit to retrieve. The only other reflective surface, if it could be called that, was the dented spoon. A small soup spoon with its surface dulled with scratches and warped with a large dent.

  It would be difficult, but Ruena was determined to make it work. She took the spoon in her hand and burst into a sprint without hesitation. This had to work! Unfortunately, the timing was hard to grasp. She failed, and failed again. Each failure felt closer and closer to her goal. She almost had it. Just one more try. Once more!

  The perfect route, the best place to start, and even the timing was perfectly figured out. Now the only thing holding her back was the tiny spoon. Because it was so small, the slightest mistaken angle could ruin everything. It was time to take her chance with the mirror. This was it. Her last shot. Except this time was different. The moment Ruena laid hands on that mirror, the pawn acted. There was no chance to think, no space for even a momentary breather. Instinct took over.

  Ruena still wasn’t sure exactly how she escaped. The mirror shattered, the spoon was crushed beyond repair, and even the shiny silver button she had found on a spare jacket had been cast aside. While she had been learning, so had the pawn. The only difference was that this time she didn’t give up when things went wrong. She dodged the grasping hand, stumbling if she had to, and threw everything she could get her hands on back at her pursuer.

  It was all she could do to not collapse once she finally cleared the exit of the training arena. Looking back at the doorway she saw a white pawn stopped just at the threshold. It was finally over. Finally. As the relief flooded in, the pain she had been trying to ignore returned with it. The air stung her throat as she hungrily sucked it in, and her tongue was dry. What time was it? She hadn’t taken any time to eat anything, and she barely drank enough to cool down between attempts.

  “You made it!” Soral greeted, appearing from nowhere as usual, “I made a special dinner for tonight to celebrate.”

  Perhaps sensing that Ruena could barely make herself move, he teleported them directly to the dinner table. Out of habit, she stared right into the polished spoon at her disheveled reflection. She was a mess. Her clothes had snags and tears and she was dirty all over. The only reason her hair was contained was because of the hair tie she had found in the arena.

  “Good job,” Bastion congratulated, entering the room, “I didn’t expect you to pass the beginner stage so quickly. You are ready for the next level of training.”