The stadium buzzed with energy. The stands were packed, and the deafening roar of the crowd cheered on the players on the field. Among the spectators, Felix’s family sat in the front row, waving flags and shouting enthusiastically. But all their support was directed solely at Anthony, the star player of the local football team.

At halftime, Anthony, sweaty but full of energy, jogged over to where his family was waiting. His mother handed him a water bottle, while his father patted him on the back proudly.

"Great job, son! That pass was incredible!" his father said, as Anthony shrugged with a confident smile.

"Thanks, but just wait," Anthony said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "The best is yet to come."

"What do you mean?" his mother asked, frowning in curiosity.

Anthony just winked before heading back to the field.

The halftime show began shortly after. The cheerleaders took the stage with precise, coordinated movements, while the team’s mascot—a comically exaggerated horse—bounded in with dramatic leaps. The crowd erupted in laughter and applause.

The mascot stole the show. It performed acrobatics, improvised dances, and even joined the cheerleaders in hilariously clumsy but endearing routines. At one point, it even pretended to trip and tumble, eliciting roaring laughter from the audience. Whoever was in that costume was clearly giving it their all to entertain.

When the game ended, Anthony’s team emerged victorious. The family greeted him with hugs and congratulations. Anthony held a trophy in one hand, raising it like it was an Olympic gold medal, and in the other, he carried a few business cards. With the game won and his standout performance, some scouts had already reached out to him.

As the family made their way to the parking lot, the mascot appeared behind them. A muffled voice called out from inside the suit.

“Hey, family!”

Everyone turned, surprised. The mascot slowly removed the oversized head, revealing Felix, his hair disheveled and a nervous glint in his eyes.

“Felix?” his mother asked, incredulous, her expression shifting rapidly from surprise to disapproval. “You were the one acting like a fool out there?”

Felix, still catching his breath from the show, scratched the back of his neck and gave a sheepish smile.

“Well… yeah. What did you think?”

“What did we think?” his father replied, a mix of disbelief and disappointment in his voice. “We think you made a fool of yourself!”

“Felix, that’s not something to be proud of!” his mother added. “While Anthony is winning trophies and building a future, you’re out there playing clown.”

“A mascot isn’t a career, you know?” his father chimed in, as if needing to underline the point.

His older brothers, who had been walking a few steps ahead, turned back upon hearing the conversation.

“At least it was funny… in a sad way,” one of them said, laughing.

“Yeah, the only thing you accomplished was becoming the most pathetic mascot this team’s ever had,” the other added with a smirk.

At first, Felix tried to keep his composure, but his gaze dropped. His parents and brothers continued walking, ignoring him entirely as they resumed their discussion about Anthony’s stellar performance.

When they were far enough ahead, Anthony stopped and turned back to Felix.

“Hey, hold up a second,” he called out, staying behind with him.

Felix, who had been trying hard not to let the words affect him, looked at Anthony with an unreadable expression.

“What? Are you here to make fun of me too?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but not quite managing it.

Anthony shook his head, a lopsided smile on his face.

“Make fun of you? Nah. Actually, I think you did pretty well. I’ll admit, when you said you’d be the team mascot, I thought it’d be a disaster. But… well, I have to admit you got everyone’s attention.”

Felix let out a short, bitter laugh.

“Yeah, attention so they could laugh at me.”

Anthony clapped a hand on Felix’s shoulder.

“Look, don’t let what Mom, Dad, or those idiots say get to you. You know what I think? I think you did something none of them would ever dare to do: you risked looking like a fool just to make people laugh. That takes guts.”

Felix stared at him, somewhat surprised.

“You really think so?”

Anthony pretended to ponder for a moment before flashing a teasing smile.

“Well, yeah, though that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a bit ridiculous. But seriously, maybe you should consider a career in theater… or the circus. Who knows? You might end up as a famous comedian.”

Felix chuckled, shaking his head.

“I don’t know, Anthony. I don’t think this is my thing. I just… I don’t want to be the guy everyone remembers only because they laughed at him.”

At that moment, a group of kids their age walked past, also leaving the stadium. Their voices were clear, even at a distance.

"Did you see the mascot?" one of them said, laughing. "It looked like it was in its own show! What a clown."

Felix pressed his lips together, pretending not to care, but Anthony noticed.

"Hey," Anthony said, giving him a light nudge. "If you had fun, that's what matters. Besides, I'm pretty sure half those laughs were genuine."

Felix managed a small smile.

"I guess so… but enough about me. I saw a lot of scouts approach you after the game. What are you planning to do?"

Anthony sighed and glanced at the business cards in his hand.

"I’ll probably do what I always do. Just pick one and go with it…”

They walked in silence for a moment before Anthony broke the tension with another joke about how great Felix would look in a giant chicken costume. For the first time that night, Felix felt the weight of his embarrassment lighten, if only a little.

Echo stood in front of two apples on the kitchen table, staring at them as if solving the world’s most complex riddle. One was a bright, nearly flawless red, while the other had a few small brown spots but looked juicier.

"Which one should I pick?" he murmured to himself, loud enough for his sisters to hear.

Maud, sitting on the other side of the table, calmly nibbled on a quartz rock loaf with her usual composure. "The one you prefer," she replied without looking up.

"That’s not helpful," Echo grumbled, frowning as he alternated his gaze between the two apples. "What if I pick the one that looks perfect but doesn’t taste as good? Or what if the juicy one has too many seeds?"

Pinkamena, lounging on the nearby sofa with her eyes fixed on the ceiling, sighed in exasperation. "You could eat both and end the dilemma."

"That would be cheating!" Echo snapped, turning to her with an indignant expression. "What kind of pony would do that? This is an important choice!"

"It’s an apple," Pinkamena replied in her monotone voice. "Not a peace treaty between pony clans."

Echo huffed but didn’t stop staring at the fruit. "What if I’m setting a precedent? What does it say about me if I choose a superficial apple over one with character? What kind of message am I sending to the universe?"

Maud finally lifted her gaze, her neutral eyes locking on her brother. "Why not pick the one most likely to satisfy you right now? The universe probably isn’t paying attention."

"Easy for you to say," Echo retorted, gesturing dramatically at her. "You don’t know how fickle the universe can be like I do. Besides, you always know what you want. You don’t have this constant weight of doubt hanging over you."

"That’s not entirely true," Maud said as she took another bite of her quartz. "Sometimes I debate between basalt and schist."

"Really?" Echo seemed genuinely intrigued for a moment, but Maud only blinked slowly. It was hard to tell if she was being serious or making an attempt at humor in her own way.

"We might make it to the plaza by the time you decide," Pinkamena interrupted, standing up with a slow, heavy movement. "Harshwhinny said to be on time."

Echo checked the clock and let out a defeated sigh. He grabbed the spotted, juicy apple and took a bite, chewing with a hint of resignation. "Fine. Let’s go. But if this apple turns out to be a mistake, I don’t want to hear an ‘I told you so.’"

"I don’t say that," Maud replied, gathering her rock.

"Me neither," Pinkamena added as they headed out the door. "But I might think it."

The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon when I found myself in the town square, adjusting the pendant hanging around my neck. It was expertly crafted by the artisan I’d commissioned, a simple yet sturdy case for the precious purple star-shaped gem I’d found in the Pie family cave. When I picked it up the day before, I couldn’t help but grin at how well it turned out. Now it hung from a plain iron chain, resting comfortably against my chest. It wasn’t flashy, but it was mine, and that was enough.

The square was starting to fill with colts and fillies of all ages, though some wore unmistakable expressions of grogginess. I couldn’t blame them; after all, Harshwhinny had been very specific: "Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, in the town square." Beyond that, she hadn’t explained a thing. That level of mystery had some ponies on edge, while others, like me, remained indifferent.

However, one thing did pique my curiosity: Harshwhinny herself. We’d met her as an energetic organizer, full of corny jokes and a constant smile. Lately, though, that spark seemed to have faded. Perhaps it was the apathetic stares she received or how her jokes went unnoticed, as if no one was really listening. During the recent trials, her tone had grown drier, heavier, as if the enthusiasm she once had had slowly crumbled away.

To be honest, I wanted to laugh at some of her jokes, but the awkward silence always held me back. Poor Harshwhinny—I just hope this doesn’t affect her in the long run.

When she arrived, it wasn’t hard to notice her. Her presence always drew attention, even if now she seemed to drag her hooves more than usual. She stood in front of us, holding a list in her hooves.

“Listen carefully,” she began in a tone that tried to be firm but couldn’t quite hide a note of resignation. “I’m going to read a list of names. Those I call will follow me. The rest will have to stay for a talk.”

The plaza fell into complete silence. A few ponies whispered among themselves, trying to guess who would be chosen. As for me, I didn’t know what to expect.

Harshwhinny stared at the list for a moment, as if weighing something, then began.

“Flashing Blow.”

The named pony puffed out his chest and stepped forward, as though he already knew his name would be there. Of course, after what he did yesterday, no one could ignore him.

“Maudileena Daisy Pie.”

I watched as Maud calmly stepped forward, her face as stoic as ever, as though being on that list was as routine for her as observing a rock. Honestly, I don’t know how she does it, but she has this air that always silences everyone.

“Pinkamena Diane Pie.”

Pinkie cautiously took a few steps forward.

Finally, Harshwhinny’s gaze landed on me, and for a moment, I thought she must have been looking at another pony behind me.

“Echorellian Crumble Pie.”

Hearing my full name made me blink in surprise. What? Me? I stepped forward, noticing how a few eyes followed me. I wasn’t sure what to think. All I knew was that my heart was beating faster than I wanted to admit.

When I reached the others, Harshwhinny rolled up her list and stepped forward. “The rest of you... well, some of you will have the proper talk later while the rest, we thank you for your cooperation.”

The murmurs of those who stayed filled the air, accompanied by long faces, sighs, and a few grumbles—mostly from the other pony tribes. But I couldn’t focus on them. I had too many questions and not a single answer. What did being on this list mean? Why were we chosen?

Harshwhinny looked at the four of us. Her eyes lingered on each of us, and for a moment, her expression changed. It wasn’t sadness or joy. Perhaps something closer to… expectation.

“You,” she finally said, “are the ones selected for the next stage. I hope you’re ready because it won’t be easy.”

And with that, she turned and signaled for us to follow her.

Harshwhinny led us to the edge of the nearby forest, where four saddlebags were lined up, one for each of us. She stood before us with a firm stance, holding a scroll in one hoof and projecting that unshakable air that only she could manage.

“This is the final test,” she announced in a tone as sharp as a drill sergeant’s. “You must travel from this point to the goal on the other side of the forest. Inside your saddlebags, you’ll find a map of the route you need to take, along with some provisions.”

While she spoke, I took the opportunity to glance around. There was no audience, no families, no sign of the other foals. We were completely alone. Comforting. Or maybe not.

Harshwhinny continued, “Keep this in mind: the faster you complete it, the better your records will be. No distractions. No wasting time. This is important. More than you realize. So stay focused and head straight to the goal. Together.”

She made it abundantly clear, repeating herself so much that I felt she might as well carve it into my forehead.

“With that said,” she added, pulling a stopwatch from one of her vest pockets, “begin!”

“Wait! I have a lot of questions!” I exclaimed, raising a hoof urgently.

I didn’t get far. Before I could even articulate a single thought, Flashing Blow shoved me onto the path.

“Didn’t you hear her? No wasting time,” he snapped.

“But—hey, hey! I have important questions!” I stammered, being dragged along with my hooves barely touching the ground.

Eventually, he let go, and I resigned myself to walking on my own. Better that than being dragged like a sack of potatoes. I let out a long sigh. “I had important questions, for the record!”

From up ahead, without even turning around, Flashing replied in his usual indifferent tone, “Doesn’t matter. We need to reach the goal as fast as possible. You heard her.”

“Yeah, but… don’t you want to know what’s going on here? I mean, think about all the craziness from the past few days. The absurdly difficult written exams, the physical tests that felt like military training, and let’s not even talk about the chaos with the unicorn and pegasus teams. What kind of organization runs this? It’s like someone threw this together at the last minute.”

Flashing let out a long huff, clearly losing patience. “For Celestia’s sake, are you always this chatty?”

My sisters, walking behind me, nodded in unison without saying a word.

“You’re not helping!” I exclaimed, turning to my sisters with mock indignation.

“And what do you expect to accomplish?” Flashing retorted, quickening his pace. “Are you just going to complain about everything?”

“Of course I am! A well-written complaint could help fix this for the next generation,” I replied in a sarcastic tone.

Flashing snorted and sped up even more, leaving us behind without bothering to continue the argument.

I had to hurry to catch up, my sisters following close behind. Maud remained unbothered as always, while Pinkamena kept her typical neutral expression. I couldn’t tell if they were as frustrated as Flashing or simply accustomed to my antics.

“You still haven’t answered my questions!” I shouted, trying not to lose sight of him among the trees.

The forest surrounded us with its cool air and dancing shadows, but my mind was filled with unanswered questions and theories no one seemed interested in hearing. Why didn’t anyone appreciate a good dose of intellectual curiosity?

The walk wasn’t easy. Flashing’s hurried, impatient steps set a pace that made it hard to enjoy the scenery—not that there was much to enjoy: twisted trees, roots jutting out like natural traps, and a breeze that seemed to whisper secrets in our ears.

Eventually, the dirt trail came to an abrupt halt at the base of a mountain.

“What now?” Flashing demanded. “Which way do we go?”

I pulled the map from my saddlebag, the same one we’d been given before starting this journey. As I spread it on the ground, I mentally reviewed our supplies: biscuits and jam, ropes, water.

The map depicted the forest we were in, with a winding route that seemed to carefully avoid every obstacle—except this mountain. Along the marked trail were scattered symbols, cryptic ones that gave me a bad feeling.

I pointed at the first symbol, right where we were standing: a cave drawn at the mountain’s base.

“This doesn’t make sense,” I muttered, more to myself than to them. “I don’t remember seeing a mountain like this in the middle of the forest. It’s like it appeared out of nowhere.”

“So what?” Flashing snapped in his usual brusque tone. “Does the map say we’re supposed to go through it or around it?”

We all inspected the map, but Maud was the first to answer in her monotone voice: “No, it doesn’t say anything about that.”

Flashing grumbled and stepped away from the group, frustrated. While he muttered complaints, I rolled up the map and stuffed it back into my saddlebag.

“If there’s no clear path, then the answer’s obvious. We go around the mountain. Let’s go!” Flashing announced, already moving without waiting for anyone.

“Wait. At least let’s investigate a little. There might be something useful at the trail’s end near the mountain,” I said, trying to reason with him.

“We don’t have time to waste on nonsense!” Flashing shouted, raising his voice.

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Relax. We’ve barely started this journey. A few minutes won’t delay us,” I countered and, without waiting for his approval, headed toward where the trail ended at the mountain’s base. As usual, Maud and Pinkamena decided to follow me.

“You’re not going to find anything,” Flashing began, but he was interrupted by Pinkamena’s calm voice.

“I found something,” she said, pointing a hoof toward a nearby bush.

We approached, and there, partially hidden by leaves, was a sign. It looked surprisingly clean, as if it had been built yesterday. But the most unsettling part was the inscription on it.

We leaned in to read the words aloud, almost in unison:

“Where you stand, alone you’ll feel, but don’t give up for the sake of others.”

I frowned. “Great, another cryptic message with an air of ancient wisdom. I hope this doesn’t become a habit.” My sarcasm was cut off by a sound that chilled my blood.

Crack.

The ground split beneath us, swallowing us before we could react.

I opened my eyes abruptly. I was standing alone in a dark, empty cave. My pupils took a few seconds to adjust, but there wasn’t much to see. Darkness. And silence. An oppressive silence that made my stomach knot.

“Great,” I muttered, glancing around awkwardly. “Separated from the group again. This is becoming a recurring theme.”

I turned and checked my saddlebag. If I were lucky, maybe I’d find a lantern. Although, given our situation, my instincts told me luck wasn’t on my side.

As I rummaged, a sudden white light illuminated my face from the left. I blinked, startled.

“Well, I guess I was wrong.”

In front of me stood a glowing white door, piercing through the cave’s darkness. I raised a hoof to my chin, thinking. I’d fallen into a hole (although it didn't hurt at all), ended up in a dark cave, and suddenly, here was a glowing door. This screamed trap—or worse, cliché.

“Go to the light,” said a deep, dreamlike voice from somewhere above me.

My ears perked up instantly. “Oh, sure, because that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.”

“Cross the door,” the voice insisted, “and you’ll leave this place. You’ll return home without further obstacles.”

I took a step toward the door, my curiosity wrestling with my survival instincts.

“But,” the voice continued, “if you do, your companions will return with you as well and the journey will end here. If you choose to move forward, you’ll have to take the dark path behind you. However, I cannot guarantee what you’ll find there.”

I froze mid-step, narrowing my eyes as I stared at the door.

Is this part of the test? Of course, it is. Damn it, they almost had me thinking I was dead... again!

So, it’s a test, huh? Makes sense. Now that I think about it, everything lines up: the suspicious mountain appearing out of nowhere in the middle of an otherwise ordinary forest. That pristine sign? Far too clean for a place like this. If it were real, it should’ve been covered in moss or weathered by time.

All of this screams “staged.” We’re probably inside the mountain now, or in some kind of controlled environment designed to make us pause and reflect. The message on the sign, with its ancient wisdom vibe, makes sense now. This must be one of those psychological tests—separate the group, present a moral dilemma, and see who succumbs to temptation.

And speaking of temptation... that voice.

Of course! A dreamlike voice, a magical door, and a sudden fall into darkness. None of this is a coincidence.

It’s obvious the correct answer here is to take the dark path. “The harder road leads to the greater reward,” right? But... I have time.

I began feeling along the cave walls, my mind racing with theories. This has to be magic. Did they teleport us when we fell? Or is this some kind of illusion? I mean, this is Equestria; no way the government would toss a bunch of foals into a death trap as part of a standard test. It must be a controlled scenario, crafted to assess our skills and decisions.

Then again... why allow so many irregularities before? The pony tribes forming alliances early, ensuring they were on the same teams, acting as if they knew exactly what would happen. How did they predict all this? Why didn’t the organizers stop them? And what’s the point? What are they truly trying to measure here?

Ding.

Oh, wait, I think I found something.

My hooves touched the wall, and to my surprise, one of them passed straight through the rock like it was a hologram. Behind it, I felt something peculiar—solid and cold—a crystal embedded in the wall. It was long and shimmering, almost as if it had been waiting to be discovered.

Using both hooves, I began to wiggle it, applying some force to dislodge it. Finally, with a sharp tug, it came free, and I stumbled backward. The crystal fell to the ground, emitting a faint glow that illuminated the cave.

But then, something strange happened.

The walls around me started to melt—not literally, but as if reality itself was dissolving. It was like watching water spill over a painting, smudging shadows and outlines until they crumbled away, revealing a vibrant green space beyond.

“Well, this isn’t creepy at all,” I muttered sarcastically, clutching the crystal tightly as I tried to keep my composure.

I found myself standing on a forest trail, the earthy path clearly visible in the daylight, marking the way forward.

So, it was an illusion. I held the crystal up in front of me, turning it slowly in my hooves. This little fragment... was it the source of the illusion? Or the test itself?

I brought it closer to my eye, inspecting it carefully. I couldn’t help but feel excited. The texture was smooth, like it had been polished for centuries by expert hooves. But what really fascinated me was its structure—a lattice of prismatic minerals intertwined with faint traces of... magical energy?

“This is incredible,” I murmured. “How can this crystal generate something as complex as an illusion? Is it enchanted? Damn it, do enchantments actually exist?”

My mind began to wander. If this is real magic... then could I use it to craft something? How about enchanted armor? Or maybe a spear that glows in the dark? The possibilities are endless!

But before I could completely lose myself in fantasy, the crystal began to change. Its purple hue faded gradually, turning into a dull gray, as if its energy had been drained.

I sighed, shaking my head to clear my thoughts. My excitement waned, but I couldn’t forget my current situation. Holding the now-gray crystal, I followed the path until I reached a fork in the road.

There they were. Maud, with her impassive expression, and Pinkamena, who seemed slightly bored, turned their gazes toward me as I approached. However, it was Flashing Blow who broke the silence.

"By Celestia! You sure took your sweet time," Flashing said impatiently, stepping toward me. "For a moment, I thought you'd given up. Or gotten lost. Honestly, the latter makes more sense."

I raised an eyebrow. "I had something to do back there," I replied, holding up the crystal. "Check this out. It used to be purple, very similar to the star on my necklace."

I pointed to the small star hanging from the chain around my neck, but Flashing just stared at me as if I’d started speaking another language.

"Oh, this," I added, trying to explain further. "It was what kept the illusion of the test active. Once I removed it, everything fell apart."

Maud tilted her head slightly, intrigued. "Interesting. A crystal with magical properties?"

Pinkamena nodded. "It’s pretty."

Flashing, however, didn’t seem impressed—he seemed annoyed.

"What!?" he exclaimed, stepping closer. "You’re telling me we waited for… that? For some useless crystal?"

"Useless!" I shot back, dramatically outraged. "This crystal was the core of the test. It wasn’t that long, just a few minutes. It’s not a big deal."

"Oh, it is a big deal!" Flashing raised his voice, his tone turning more commanding. "Thanks to your distraction, we’re behind schedule. This is important, you understand? Some of us have real goals to achieve!"

"Real goals?" I repeated skeptically, tilting my head. "Do you think this is some sort of competition? It’s just an exercise, Flashing. There are no prizes or records to break. We’re here for… well, I don’t know what, but not for—"

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," Flashing interrupted with a snort. "Maybe it doesn’t matter to you, but some of us take this seriously. Some of us aspire to something greater."

"What do you mean?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. There was something about his tone that set me on edge.

Flashing stepped back slightly, but his arrogant demeanor didn’t waver. "Nothing you need to know," he said with a forced smile. "Just stay out of the way, alright? This isn’t a game."

Before I could reply, Pinkamena stepped in.

"Wow, guys, why all the fighting? Shouldn’t we be working together? You know, 'united we stand' and all that."

I sighed, still holding the crystal in my hooves. "It’s not a fight, Pinkamena. It’s… a philosophical discussion. Let’s just say we don’t exactly see eye-to-eye on how to tackle problems."

Flashing snorted, crossing his forelegs impatiently. "Oh, please! The only thing we’re debating is how much time you’re wasting with your indecision. Let’s just move already!"

I frowned, glancing down at the crystal I’d just retrieved. A sudden realization hit me like a lightning bolt. This thing was part of the test, something that should’ve stayed where it was. A pang of guilt shot through me, and my mind raced in circles, imagining some furious examiner or, worse, that I’d broken something important.

"Maybe… maybe I should go back and put it where I found it," I muttered, mostly to myself.

Flashing burst into laughter. "What? Put it back? Now? After all the time you spent digging it out? Please, don’t tell me you’re going to drag us all back over a silly hunch."

I opened my mouth to argue, but his mocking tone made me pause. He had a point. Going back now didn’t make much sense… but I still didn’t feel right taking something that might not have been mine to touch.

Finally, I let out a long sigh and gently placed the crystal on the ground, ensuring it was in a safe spot. "Fine, I'll just leave it here."

I leaned down toward the crystal and murmured, almost under my breath, "Sorry for messing with your test." A nervous chuckle escaped me as I straightened up, feeling a bit ridiculous. Who was I even talking to?

Flashing rolled his eyes. "Perfect! Can we move on now? Some of us want to finish this test before we turn a hundred."

Maud, who had been quietly observing the whole exchange, unrolled the map and held it out calmly. "The path continues east. There’s a clearing ahead where we can regroup and decide how to proceed."

"Thanks, Maud," I said, grateful for her composure amidst the chaos.

We set off, Maud leading the way while the rest of us followed in single file. As we walked, the nagging feeling that I might’ve altered something important lingered at the back of my mind. But I tried to shove it into a forgotten corner. There was no turning back now.

Author's Note

In the past, Felix worked as a mascot during one of Anthony’s football games, but instead of being seen as a supportive figure, he was ridiculed as a foolish distraction. Despite this, Anthony offered him words of encouragement, lifting his spirits. Anthony’s exceptional performance during the game earned him a stack of business cards from talent scouts, showcasing his undeniable skill on the field.

In the present, Flashing Blow, Maud, Pinkamena, and Echo are chosen to advance to the next stage of the trials, while the remaining participants are sent off for a stern talk regarding their performance.

Echo feels uneasy about progressing, as he has many doubts and criticisms regarding the trials, but Flashing interrupts him. They must now move from Point A to Point B against the clock.

Their first obstacle is a choice: continue forward or return home. Curious about the setup, Echo investigates and discovers the source of the test’s illusion—a crystal programmed with an enchantment. Realizing he may have tampered with something he shouldn’t have, he cautiously places the crystal back on the ground before moving on.

Fun Facts:

• The cave trial initially seemed better suited for a later stage of the trials, but for narrative pacing, it was moved to the first challenge.
• The unicorn and pegasus teams forming alliances and their behavior in earlier chapters will be addressed in future installments.
• Flashing Blow’s cheating in the written exam went unnoticed by the supervisors, who see him as a candidate with significant potential despite his arrogant attitude.

Thanks for reading!