Cold Start

"Where am I?"

The environment felt cold, so cold that a girl wrapped her arms around herself. Everything was strange about the place. 

The walls were made out of thick wood, there were a few decorations here and there but considering the space was already cramped it could have done well without it. 

The floor also felt unsteady, it was as though it was not placed on anything solid. 

It was then she realized…

'It's not a house, it's a carriage.'

Carriages had given way to cars back in her world which was the reason she found it difficult to recognize it at first. 

There was only a single window in the carriage so she went to peep outside. 

As Kiera walked towards it, although she made efforts to be noiseless the wood still creaked underneath her feet making her wince. 

She finally got to the window and looked through it. 

Standing in the snow were multiple imposing men in thick medieval clothing wielding swords, spears, shields and bows. 

It seemed the carriages had stopped to make camp so they were chatting with themselves while some of them gathered the necessary materials. 

She could also see the sun going down on the horizon meaning night was not far off. 

Seeing the men made the girl realize that she had not observed what she was wearing. 

The simple shirt and plaid skirt she had on before the trial was gone, giving way to something more elaborate. 

The gown was quite large with a lot of excess layers, definitely worthy of being a medieval garment. 

It was a white fluffy dress that went down to her feet, adorned with multiple floral patterns on the dress, as well as golden embroidery far too complex to belong to a commoner. 

'I guess I'm a noble.'

The girl twisted her body to the side and watched how the garment fluttered. Although it was quite large it was still pretty, she felt like a princess. 

A small smile unconsciously brightened up her face. 

"Uhum," She cleared her throat, the smile vanishing from her face as she tried to look more serious (key word being tried).

The trial was off to a weird start…

'Alright Kiera, let's get this over with.

Just as she was contemplating what to do next the door suddenly opened, letting the cold air into the room. 

A middle aged man with greying hair and a creepy smile stepped into the carriage, looking at her in a way that made her skin crawl and yet she forced out a smile. 

That was because this man was her uncle…

It had to be the work of the Archive. She instinctively knew who he was but it seemed that was where its assistance ended, she knew nothing about him nor his relationship with her. 

She could also not picture anyone else, she would likely have to see the person with her own two eyes in order to know who they were. 

Anyone not important to the trial was also sidelined, considering that she had gotten no information about the guards from earlier. 

"Good evening." Her voice was low, almost imperceivable. 

The man met her smile with a wider one. 

"How are you doing, Agnes? Are you cooped up here because of the cold?"

So that was her name here…

"Just resting."

He nodded approvingly. 

"It has been quite a journey so I would assume you are tired. Unlike those muscle headed warriors outside who don't know what rest is."

He paused and looked her over as though he could devour her with his very eyes. 

Kiera fought the urge to get as far from him as possible. 

'So he's those kinds of uncles…'

The man finally seemed to regain his senses and stared at the side of the carriage where a bottle of wine was. 

He pulled out a glass cup Kiera had not remembered he had. 

"Lest I forget myself, our lord, your father, has requested a drink. He has not seen you since the journey began so he would like to meet you as well."

He handed her the cup and motioned to the wine, "don't be late, dinner will be ready soon."

With that he exited the room, closing the carriage door beside her. 

Kiera stared at the door. 

She let out a breath. 

'Did that go well?'

People often told her that she sucked at expressing herself. Some said she often glared at them for no good reason, while others said she spoke a scant few words. 

She had tried to fix this quirk of hers for the longest time but had been unsuccessful over the years. 

This was the best she could do when talking to strangers. 

'It's best I focus on the trial…'

Usually, they had to confront their fears in their trials, it could be a war, it could be an actual battle or it could even be as weird as a game of chess. Depending on what the marked individual feared. 

But in this trial, she had yet to see the obstacle she would have to navigate through. 

'I guess I'll just follow the story.'

She filled up the glass cup with the red pungent drink. From the smell she could tell that it was an age old wine of the highest quality. 

Kiera then stepped out of the carriage and into the biting cold, it was then she began to appreciate the carriage more. 

Back in Lorsine, all they ever had was rain, even during cold seasons the rain could get extremely cold but never like this. 

This felt as though she was in a freezer… and it looked like it too. 

All around her for miles and miles all she could see was the white unending snow. 

She walked up to one of the guards who was passing by. 

"Good evening. My father…?"

The man bowed in respect. He looked rather confused by the sight of her but quickly tried to compose himself. 

"Oh, my lady." He seemed rather flustered when he met her gaze and was unable to make eye contact for long. 

"He's at the other end of the camp."

He pointed to an area where the number of guards was slightly denser. 

She nodded curtly and left, leaving the man staring at her back 

'I guess it's not much different from my normal life.'

It made Kiera wonder if the archive somehow designed the trial based on the actual life of the marked. 

It didn't take long to reach where her father was, as she went by the guards each one of them bowed slightly to acknowledge her presence. 

All eyes were on her, as she walked up a small elevation, to where her father was seated on an elaborate throne. 

'Who travels with a chair?'

She knelt down next to her father as it was customary to do and presented the drink to him. 

The man nodded, taking the cup in his hands and swirling the wine around the cup, then he brought the glass to his lips. 

Crash!

Just as he took a sip of the wine the cup slipped out of his fingers and crashed into the snow, painting the pristine white floor red. 

Her father's body bent forward, lifeless. 

Her uncle's face contorted into a twisted smile as he pointed an accusing finger at her. 

"S-she has poisoned our lord!"

Kiera stared at the body confused.

'What is going on?' 

Before she could even form a coherent thought, a gauntlet came flying at her face.