The Price of Freedom

The morning sunlight pierced through the towering walls of Drakemouth, casting long shadows across its cobbled streets. Alex walked beside Mia and Kenji, their boots crunching against the stone as the hum of the bustling city filled the air. Merchants shouted about their wares, armored mercenaries bargained for weapons, and street performers added a chaotic rhythm to the city's pulse.

"Ironbrand Enterprises," Kenji said grimly, leading the way through the crowd. "That's who runs the slave trade here. If Emily's been captured, they'll be the ones holding her."

Alex's fists clenched tightly. "How do we stop them?"

Kenji exchanged a glance with Mia before replying. "We don't. Not directly. Ironbrand's untouchable. If you want Emily back, you'll have to pay—probably thousands of gold."

The enormity of the number made Alex's stomach churn. He didn't even have a single coin to his name, let alone thousands. His frustration boiled over. "So, what am I supposed to do? Beg for it?"

"There's a way," Mia interjected, her voice calm but firm. "The mercenary tournament. It's held every month, hosted by the guild. The winners of the singles and duos divisions walk away with prize money that could cover what you need."

By midday, they arrived at the Mercenary Guild, a massive, fortress-like building that buzzed with activity. Its towering iron gates opened to reveal a bustling courtyard filled with fighters sparring, polishing weapons, and exchanging banter. The air was heavy with the metallic tang of steel and the scent of sweat.

Alex hesitated at the entrance. The sheer number of seasoned warriors made him feel small and insignificant. "Are you sure I can do this?"

Kenji grinned, clapping him on the back. "You'll be fine. You've already got the drive. Now, let's get you signed up."

Inside, the guild hall was a cavernous space lined with banners displaying the sigils of various mercenary teams. A long line of recruits stood before the reception desk, where a grizzled clerk took down names and handed out instructions.

When Alex's turn came, the clerk barely looked up from his ledger. "Name?"

"Alex."

"Purpose?"

"To join the guild."

The clerk gave him a skeptical once-over. "You and every other starry-eyed fool in this city. What's your specialty? Sword, magic, or brute strength?"

Alex hesitated. "A little of everything."

The clerk snorted. "Figures. Head to the training yard. Prove you're not a waste of time."

The training yard stretched across a large open space behind the guild hall. Sparring rings were scattered around, alongside obstacle courses and weapon racks. Alex was directed to a stern-looking woman with scars crisscrossing her arms. She sized him up with a sharp gaze.

"You want to join the guild? Then you'll need to pass three trials. Complete at least two to qualify. First is combat. Second is survival. Third is a puzzle test. Where do you want to start?"

"Combat," Alex said, his voice steady despite the growing knot in his stomach.

The Combat Trial

The sparring ring was a circle of packed dirt surrounded by guild members who gathered to watch. A wiry, cocky fighter stepped into the ring, twirling a wooden sword in his hand.

"Try to keep up," the fighter said with a smirk.

Alex was handed his own wooden sword. It felt awkward in his grip—far lighter than the weapons he was used to. The instructor raised her hand. "Begin!"

The opponent lunged immediately, his blade slicing through the air. Alex barely managed to deflect it, the impact jolting his arm. The fighter moved with precision, forcing Alex to stay on the defensive. Each strike came faster than the last, testing Alex's reflexes and endurance.

But Alex wasn't just defending. He studied the fighter's rhythm, noticing how his left foot always shifted slightly before an attack. Timing his counter perfectly, Alex feinted high, drawing the fighter's blade upward, and then swept his leg out from under him.

The fighter hit the ground hard, and Alex pointed his sword at his chest.

The instructor nodded. "Point goes to Alex."

The crowd murmured their approval as Alex stepped out of the ring, his heart pounding with both exertion and relief.

The Survival Trial

The survival course was a maze of traps and obstacles designed to test agility, endurance, and quick thinking. Alex stood at the starting line, staring down a narrow path filled with swinging axes, pressure-activated spikes, and flame jets.

"Ready?" the instructor called.

He nodded, swallowing hard.

"Go!"

Alex sprinted forward, his eyes darting between the swinging axes. Timing his movements with precision, he ducked under the first blade and rolled past the second. A click beneath his foot made his heart race, and he dove to the side just as a spike shot up from the ground.

The heat from a flame jet singed his arm as he scrambled over a wooden barrier. His breaths came in ragged gasps, but he pushed forward, ignoring the stinging pain in his muscles.

At the final stretch, a series of swinging pendulums blocked his path. Alex paused, calculating their rhythm, and then sprinted through, narrowly avoiding a crushing blow.

He collapsed at the finish line, chest heaving, as the instructor marked his success.

After completing two trials, Alex thought his testing was over. But as he prepared to leave the training yard, the scarred instructor approached him with a sharp smile.

"You passed," she said, "but not everyone chooses to take the third trial. It's optional, but completing it will make a stronger impression on the guild. Do you want to try?"

Alex hesitated, but the idea of standing out among so many talented fighters was too tempting. "I'll do it."

The Puzzle Trial

The final trial took place in a small, dimly lit room. A table stood in the center, holding a series of objects: a locked box, a set of colored stones, and a piece of parchment with a riddle.

Alex picked up the parchment and read:

"To open the box, the stones must align,

Their colors in the order of fire's first shine."

He frowned, thinking back to the elemental teachings he'd heard in passing. The order of colors in a flame… Red, orange, yellow, and white.

Carefully, he arranged the stones in that order, but nothing happened. Frustrated, he reread the riddle, his eyes narrowing at the words fire's first shine. Realizing his mistake, he reversed the order to white, yellow, orange, and red.

The box clicked open, revealing a small token inside. He held it up as the instructor entered the room.

"Impressive," she said. "You didn't need to do this, but it'll definitely earn you respect."

By the end of the day, Alex was officially registered as a mercenary. Exhausted but determined, he met Mia and Kenji back in the guild hall.

"I'm in," he said, dropping into a chair.

"Good," Mia said with a grin. "The tournament starts tomorrow. You're in the singles division, right?"

Alex nodded, his resolve hardening. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he was ready to face them. He would fight for Emily's freedom, no matter what it took.