Chapter 33- Trial Madness

The trial grounds pulsed with magic, steel, and anticipation.

Sunlight streamed through the enchanted dome overhead, refracting off the protective wards Sasha had cast like a million tiny stars. The arena had been expanded twice already, its perimeter reinforced with elemental stone and lined with sigils that shimmered beneath every step. Massive obsidian pillars marked each quadrant, each carved with the sigil of the goddess and the Trial of Valor's crest, a seven pointed star with a flame circle.

Vendors lined the outer edge selling enchanted snacks, support banners, glow charms, and miniature plushies of Rhiannan that said things like "Fight like a goddess, bitch" when squeezed. Training dummies were being dragged out of the ring, blood charms absorbed, obstacle courses finalized, and one unlucky dwarf had just been catapulted twenty feet into a mud pit by a malfunctioning illusion trap.

Sasha's voice rang overhead with crisp authority.

"Testing complete. Arena 98 percent combat ready. Please do not touch the phoenix statue's nipples. They are highly reactive."

A line of contestants stretched along the southern entrance, dressed in everything from enchanted armor to shirtless bravado. The Faenet screens were already blowing up, because the first brave few had gone live.

💀 Contestant One: Dazryn Bloodroot – Shadow Elf, Age 27

Live now on Faenet. His dark hair was slicked back, face painted in war colors, and his sword glowed with abyssal runes.

"Trial day, baby," he said, staring straight into the crystal like it owed him something. "They said I wouldn't make it past the qualifiers. That I was too reckless. Well, guess what? I brought two knives, three curses, and zero fucks. Wish me luck—or don't. I bite."

He signed off with a kiss and the flex of a bicep. Comments: unhinged. Hot. Chaos fave.

🌸 Contestant Two: Willow Thistlebloom – Dryad Mage, Age 22

Live now on Faenet, sitting cross legged on a floating lily pad, braids covered in glow charms, eyes wide and hopeful.

"I'm just… so grateful to be here," she whispered. "Win or lose, I want to show other forestlings that we can be fierce. Soft doesn't mean weak. Send me a leaf emoji if you're rooting for me!"

The screen filled with 🌿🌿🌿.

🔥 Contestant Three: Gorvun Bracksmash – Fire Troll, Age 41

Live now. Shirtless. Covered in soot. Standing on a rock flexing at birds.

"TRIAL TIME. I'M GONNA EAT THIS TEST. LITERALLY. MAY THE STRONGEST WIN AND THE WEAK RUN CRYING TO THEIR MOMMIES. BRACKSMASH OUT."

He tried to throw his crystal for dramatic effect. It hit a tree and rebounded into his face. He didn't flinch. Faenet lost its damn mind.

🐍 Contestant Four: Niri Venomtongue – Naga Assassin, Age 35

Live now. Wrapped around a tree branch, whispering into her crystal with a dangerous smile.

"I came here to earn a place at Rhiannan's table. I won't settle for less. Say a prayer for my opponents. They'll need it."

Faenet: instantly obsessed. Ten new fan pages created within minutes.

🦄 Contestant Five: Joryn Glitterhoof – Unicorn Shifter, Age 19

Live now. Hair sparkling. Shirt says "Kickin' ass and spreading sass."

"I've trained for this since I could walk. I'm here for justice, snacks, and gay excellence. Wish me sparkle speed and horn protection."

Faenet: broke again. #TeamGlitterhoof trending.

Meanwhile, Mo, Mela, and Riven were in full interview chaos mode.

They stood on a floating platform enchanted to follow them around the arena. Mo had a glitter drenched mic, Mela had a clipboard she'd mostly been using to smack people's asses, and Riven was shirtless for no reason but Faenet approved.

👤"Welcome back to Trial Talk: Ass, Class, and Kickin' Ass!" Mo shouted. "We're live at the trial grounds and things are already spicy!"

"Contestant number seventy-eight just confessed to having a fear of spiders," Mela announced. "Guess what's in Round Two? Giant arachnid illusions. Oops."

"Betting pool is at thirty six thousand gold and climbing," Riven added, flipping through submissions. "Top favorite so far? A sexy orc with no pants and a vengeance complex."

Mo shoved the mic at the next contestant in line. "Name. Strategy. Body count. Go."

"Uh. Karith. Punch things. Maybe four?" the contestant blinked.

"Hot," Mo replied. "You're a snack. Next!"

Mela caught sight of Reyna's banner flapping in the breeze across the arena and grinned.

"She's gonna freak when she sees all the chaos we've organized."

Mo laughed as Faenet pinged again. "Good. She can Oracle us a therapy appointment for later."

Rhiannan and her mates would be arriving any minute, and the whole damn arena was pulsing with potential.

Five hours to the Trial of Valor.

And this? This was just the warm up.

The crowd shifted like waves parting for a storm.

The air buzzed, Faenet pinged, and even Sasha lowered her volume by a full decibel when the Goddess Queen Rhiannan arrived.

Rhiannan stepped through the main gates of the trial arena cradled in Azarion's arms, her long cloak trailing behind them like a royal comet. Her hair was braided back in a warrior crown, and her bump...now undeniable....was the first thing half the crowd noticed.

"She's glowing," someone whispered.

"She's waddling," Rhiannan snapped from Azarion's chest. "Like an angry fertility totem with hemorrhoids."

Azarion only laughed, the sound low and sinful as he carried her across the stone path toward the viewing platform that had been custom built for her comfort. Pillowed chairs. Wards for heat. A hovering footstool that adjusted to her swollen ankles.

He gently lowered her into the center seat like she was made of glass and divinity.

"There," he said, brushing a kiss to her forehead. "Perfect. Goddess placed."

"I am two weeks from biting someone's face off," she muttered. "But thanks, love."

Sable didn't sit. He hovered. Literally. Behind her, arms crossed, eyes flicking from every guard, camera drone, and bird overhead like he was waiting for one of them to so much as blink wrong. His shadows licked at the edges of his skin, coiled and tense.

"You good?" Rhiannan asked, tilting her head to look up at him.

"I'm watching," he said.

"You always are."

Elisha exhaled sharply nearby. Not from stress, he was literally blowing smoke. A fine curl of steam drifted from his nostrils as a group of overeager Faenet commentators tried to rush too close with enchanted microphones.

"They take one more step and I swear to the gods I will roast their shoes to cinders," he growled.

"Thank you," Rhiannan sighed. "I'm too tired to light anyone on fire today."

Kaleb and Arwen were already deep in strategy mode, moving through the staging area like commanders on a battlefield. Arwen adjusted enchanted sigils on the north gates while barking orders to a line of rookie soldiers. Kaleb was halfway up the scaffolding tower checking the crowd flow and yelling at Sasha to increase magical barrier strength on the west quadrant.

"Anyone not on the list doesn't get in," Kaleb called down. "And if they try, hit them with a stun ward and toss them in the moat."

"There's a moat?" Arwen blinked.

"There is now," Kaleb muttered.

Meanwhile, Liam had taken it upon himself to be the kingdom's comic relief.

He strolled through the contestant prep area in full vampiric drama mode, cape flapping, eyes twinkling, and a smug grin that made several fae warriors swoon on sight.

"You there," he said, pointing to a goblin with a scimitar. "Your eyeliner is smudged. Fix it. You're not dying ugly on my watch."

He turned to a tall centaur stretching beside a boulder. "Darling, if you flex like that during round one, I'll owe you dinner. Or at least a drink."

Faenet was foaming at the mouth.

#LiamPleaseBiteMe was trending in five realms.

Back at the viewing platform, Rhiannan adjusted the cushions and let out a low groan as the triplets kicked.

"They're pissed. I had one muffin and no protein. They want bacon or blood, I can't tell."

"I'll get both," Azarion offered and vanished to do just that, returning within minutes with a huge plate of bacon. Rhiannans eyes teared up, "I just adore you!" She exclaimed, kissing his hands. She began to devour the bacon.

"I want a throne made of pregnancy safe snacks," she muttered.

"Working on it," Sasha replied. "Also, I'd just like to note that the Trial of Valor is currently being overshadowed by your maternal glow and severe attitude. You're trending again. Hashtag Bump of Destiny."

Rhiannan flipped off the nearest camera without lifting her head.

"I'll give them a destiny bump."

Sable smirked. Just barely. Elisha covered his chuckle with smoke. Kaleb shouted something about repositioning barricades and Arwen threatened to hex a vendor who tried to sell knockoff plushies of Rhiannan with abs.

Everything was in place.

Three hours to go.

The Queen was watching.

And the Trials were about to begin.