Page 82 of House of Ydril

I barely register taking the Elevator to the Arena, that’s how absentminded I am.

This time, it doesn’t take us to the booth overlooking the bleachers and the ring. Once we file out of it, we find ourselves in a room with one door and zero windows. The only furnishings are twelve plain chairs and screens hung off all four walls.

Faust motions for us to take out seats and goes to lean on the wall, his eyes directed at the screen across from him.

I follow his gaze and the very next second, the screen switches on. I see the camera catching the audience from all angles, people clapping, chanting, or just chatting away, waiting for the Third Round to begin.

Then the camera lands on the Pied Piper getting out of her seat in the central booth, instantly making the crowd go silent.

She approaches the glass booth wall, her eyes sweeping over the crowd.

“Believe me when I say I understand,” she starts in her signature bored drawl, “that you’d rather I skipped the whole tiresome introduction.”

I hear laughter and cheering from the audience. “However,” she continues, people falling silent once again, “even the Pied Piper has obligations she cannot dismiss so easily. It is my duty to welcome you here today, but it is my utmost pleasure to tell you…”

She pauses, scanning the crowd with her mesmerizing eyes. “...that this time, I willnotbe explaining the rules to you.”

I frown, my surprise echoed by the murmur all around me.

“Our Chosen will be led into the Arena one by one and it will be part of their assignment to gauge what exactly is expected of them.”

What the fuck, I think to myself, glancing around to see confusion on the faces of the other Chosen. I pay special attention to Leo, but he seems just as surprised as the rest of us. Admittedly, he could be faking it.

“So without further ado,” the Pied Piper continues, “I welcome you all to the Second Round of the annual Grimm Academy Trials.”

As the crowd cheers, whistles and claps, Faust moves away from the wall and comes to stand in front of us, clad in his Ouroboros waistcoat and wearing a somber look on his face.

It’s all eyes on him as he says, “Look under your chairs. You’ll find flags with numbers on them. The number on your flag tells you when it’s your turn.”

I listen. I get the flag and I look at the number. Twelve. Fucking shit, I think to myself as I glance around. Leo is number three, Sarya seven, Amra eight, Harry nine, Zelda ten and Faust eleven. Lucky bastards, all of them.

And just as I think I must have angered some god in a past life, a voice booms from some heading speaker, saying “Number one.”

The guy who has it gets up and goes out the only door. As soon as it shuts behind him, the screens all turn off.

“Hey,” Harry yells out.

“What the hell,” Sarya joins in.

“Don’t we get to watch?” Amra asks, looking at Faust.

“Sorry,” he just says with a shake of his head.

Fucking shit, I think to myself.

I spend the next half hour fidgeting and glancing at my watch every five seconds.

Then number two gets called out. Rinse and repeat. One by one, the Chosen keep leaving the room, never to come back.

And just as I feel the urge to start pulling my hair out, number ten gets called out and Zelda walks out, leaving me and Faust alone.

I throw a glance at him and see he’s already looking at me. For a second, he stays silent. Then he says, “You’ll be fine,” his voice comforting.

I give him a weak smile and go back to glancing at my watch. I’m too nervous to think, let alone talk.

Soon, I hear the voice from the speaker announce, “Number eleven,” and I see Faust get up and walk straight to the exit.

Just before he shuts the door behind him, he throws me a glance over his shoulder and says, “Good luck.”

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