Fic: Uncharted Territories (11/14) (SPN, Gen)
Chapter Eleven: Trials, Part Two: This Hollow Earth
Chapter Word Count: 3,003
Total Fic Word Count: 24,764/?
|| Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four || Chapter Five || Chapter Six || Chapter Seven ||
|| Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine || Chapter Ten
~~~
The dusty silence of the stone maze Dean found himself in was a stark contrast to the sterile busyness of the hospital. Dean marked his path as he went with chalk arrows on the walls, not wanting to double back on himself. He felt a little like Theseus in the Labyrinth, but without a magical ball of string to lead him out and a gorgeous princess waiting for him at the end. Dean chuckled softly to himself, wondering what Sam would say if he knew that he was being compared to the lovely Medea. It probably would have involved one of the younger Winchester's more epic bitch-faces, to be honest, the thought of which made Dean smile as he continued to walk. Speaking of the Labyrinth, Dean sincerely hoped that there weren't going to be any minotaurs or other similar nasties in this place. He eyed the dust laying thick on the floor, searching for any tracks or disturbances. He didn't see any, but that didn't mean nothing was here. After all, there was always the possibility of flying monsters. The gloomy cavern the maze was in was more than large enough to harbor potential aerial threats.
Dean wandered the maze for several hours, trying to work his way to the center the best he could. It might also help if he could find some higher ground, but that would probably necessitate climbing walls. He eyed said walls and found them sorely lacking in hand- or footholds, given their surprisingly good state of repair. Trailing one hand over the surface of the nearest wall (it was gritty to the touch and cool), Dean took a right at a junction and, after several hundred meters, found himself in an area where four different passageways joined. A large statue stood in the center of the junction. It was of an exquisitely detailed winged sphinx, which had been carved in a regal sitting position, with its head held proudly up as it stared into the distance. Its tail was curled around its forepaws and a serene smile graced its face.
Dean looked contemplatively up at the sphinx, taking in the skill needed to craft such a work of art. He reached out and, as if in a trance, placed his hand on an inscription that had been carved into the large plinth the statue rested on. The runes flared an actinic blue before they settled into a steady glow. Dean scrambled back as an ominous cracking rumble came from the sphinx, readying his weapon. The exterior of said carved being began to flake off, with cracks spidering across the rocky surface. With a low, deep groan and a mighty shake, the sphinx rumbled to life, vibrant colors returning to its body as the rock sloughed away. Dean pressed back against the nearest wall, gun pointed directly at the sphinx. She looked at him with kohl-rimmed ruby-red eyes, blinking serenely at the human in front of her.
“Greetings, traveler,” she said, her melodious voice lightly flavored with an Egyptian accent, “and welcome to the Trial of the Mind. I am Akila, Guardian of this Trial. You have already encountered the Guardian of the Trial of the Heart.”
“Wait, you mean Eli?” Dean asked, lowering his gun after putting the safety back on.
Akila inclined her head regally in affirmation and then laid down on the plinth, tucking her front paws neatly under herself. “Are you ready to undertake the trial?”
Dean sighed and then put away his gun. “Do I have any time to eat anything? It's been a while since I've eaten, unless dream-food counts, which I doubt it does.”
“Whenever you are willing to begin, simply speak to me,” Akila said. “You may take as much time as you like.”
“Thanks.” Dean settled himself on the floor, taking some of the food-- jerky and water, as well as some dried fruit, all of which would provide much needed energy relatively quickly -from his pack and began eating, making sure not to eat too fast or too much, as he didn't want to add sickness to his list of things to worry about during these trials. He took about ten minutes to eat, finishing up by wrapping some dried pear-apples in a clean handkerchief before stowing them in one of his jacket pockets for easy access later in case he got hungry. Dean idly wiped his hands off on his pants as he stood up and then looked at Akila.
“All right, what do I have to do for this trial?”
Akila smiled at him with a sharp-toothed grin and then rose to her full height, stretching languorously in place before straightening her posture. “Come with me,” she said, padding away down a long pathway to the north of the clearing. Dean followed after her, continuing to occasionally leave marks on the walls to mark the path. It might have been a little paranoid, but Dean wasn't willing to take any chances, especially not in a place like this. Akila led him through the twisting passageways of the labyrinth, her velveted footfalls surprisingly light and silent against the stone floor. They traveled for an hour or so, heading further and further into the bowels of the maze until Akila stopped next to a roughly hewn stone hut that was pressed up against one of the far walls.
“In there is the second half of your trial,” the sphinx told Dean, gesturing elegantly at the wooden door of the hut. “I cannot accompany you within, unfortunately; I will see you again if you are successful in completing the trial.”
“Thanks,” Dean said with a slight smile. He looked at the hut contemplatively. “Will I need my gear in there, or should I leave it with you?”
“Take it with you,” Akila replied, settling back on her haunches. “It may prove useful.” She paused and then dipped her head. “I will see you later, Dean Winchester. May the gods be with you.” With that, Akila stepped back a few paces and then launched herself into the air, the strong beats of her wings sending up gusts of wind and dust. She was gone before Dean could ask how she knew his name. After a few quick sneezes in response to the flying dust, Dean shook his head to clear his senses and then approached the hut. He pushed the door open with one hand; the wood creaked as the hinges protested the movement, but eventually gave way to Dean's gentle but insistent pressure.
The inside of the hut was dark and gloomy, and smelled strongly of mildew and decay. Dean wrinkled his nose in disgust at the odor, trying to breathe shallowly in through his mouth in order to avoid inhaling the odoriferous smell more than necessary. He looked around, his eyes slowly adjusting to the low light levels. The door swung shut behind him, closing with a sense of finality to the sound. Once the door had closed, a series of lights similar to the ones used in the Havens activated, illuminating the room Dean had entered. A tunnel carved into the living rock at the back of the room curved away out of sight, a trail of light globes showing the way to go. Otherwise, the inside of the hut was empty, though there was less dust and debris here than in the maze outside.
With only one way forward, Dean entered the tunnel, following it as it wound its way upwards, which was a nice change from all the deep underground tunnels the hunter had been in recently. He was honestly starting to miss the sunshine and fresh air, something he'd never thought he'd really ever have to worry about again after Castiel pulled him from Hell. The tunnel meandered through the rock without seeming to have any immediate destination; Dean snacked a little on some of his fruit as he walked, his mind blissfully clear of any thoughts of needless worries. He was keeping an eye out for danger, of course, but he had an odd feeling that he wouldn't be under any immediate physical threats in this trial, given its particular nature.
Dean's musings were cut short when the way forward ended abruptly, the tunnel opening out into a large cavern. A deep gorge cut through the middle of the cavern, with the far side just barely visible. The sound of water echoed up from far below; it was a dull rumble that Dean was just able to hear. A short basalt obelisk jutted up from the ground near the gorge's edge, and Dean could see words carved into the nearest of its smooth sides. His curiosity piqued, Dean made his way over to the obelisk. Once he was close enough to it, Dean was able to make out the words carved into the stone. The lettering was sharp and angular, reminding him of Norse runes. The words were thankfully in English, though Dean suspected that, regardless of whatever language the words had originally been carved in, they would be legible to whomever was reading them. Dean circled around the obelisk, trying to see if there were any other words he couldn't see. There weren't, so he made his way back to the inscription and crouched down in order to read it. The words were as follows:
Man walks over, man walks under;
In times of war he burns asunder.
The answer is that which you need to progress
And continue the path to the end of your quest.
Dean read the inscription several times over, mouthing the words to himself as he went. He sat back on his heels, idly running a hand over his face and then through his hair. A riddle. Huh. This sort of thing was usually Sam's department, but since Sam wasn't here, it fell to Dean to solve it. He mused over the inscription for a few more minutes, sitting down and then staring blankly out across the gorge. After a while, Dean blinked rapidly a few times as he realized what the answer to the riddle was, a grin forming on his face.
“A bridge,” he said, breaking the silence that had accompanied him since he'd entered the second half of the trial. “You can walk over it, you walk under it, and you can burn one, both metaphorically and literally. That's the answer.” He paused. “Great. Now that I know that, what do I--?”
A low rumble and the sticky feeling of magic being cast nearby-- the Winchesters had encountered magic-users far too often in their lives and were intimately familiar with how large works of magic turned the air sticky and humid, like a Southern summer's afternoon --alerted Dean to the formation of an elegantly arched stone bridge that spanned the entirety of the gorge. He got to his feet, brushed off the dust that had collected on his clothing, and then carefully made his way up onto the bridge. He moved slowly, as there weren't any handrails; at one point near the apex of the bridge, Dean had to go on hands and knees, given how narrow the stone path was. He resisted looking down as much as possible, keeping his gaze on the stone beneath him. Dean breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the other side, pausing for a few moments to regain his bearings before getting to his feet and dusting himself off once more.
The path continued slowly spiraling upwards, entering yet another tunnel that, at several key points, had travel runes carved into its walls and floor. Dean was just starting to wonder what other trials he might face when he entered a second cave-- more like a rocky chamber, to be honest --- and halted, any further progress stopped as he had run into a dead end. There was no indication of what he should do next, nor any overt sign of the next trial. Dean sighed softly and then stepped fully into the chamber. With a rumble and scrape of rock against rock, a door Dean had previously not noticed shut, closing off the tunnel behind him. He was glad that the chamber was still lit by the light globes; otherwise, it would not have gone well. As much as Dean was comfortable in the dark, he did not like being trapped in dark rooms without any form of egress.
A square stone table stood in the center of the room, sharply defined by one large light globe directly overhead. As soon as Dean reached the table, all of the light globes save for the one right above him snapped out, leaving him in a stark pool of golden illumination. The top of the table had a vase standing on its exact center; it was the approximate size and shape of a standard Mason Jar. A button was next to the hollow, with an inscribed plaque above it reading, Fill the container as completely as possible using the materials provided to you. If you fail, the test will begin again until you achieve your goal. Should you choose to turn back, simply state so in a clear voice and you will be returned to the beginning of the Trial. Press the button to begin your test.
“Huh,” Dean murmured, and then, with a shrug, pushed the button. Five small open-mouth earthenware jars appeared around the perimeter of the circle of light, each filled with a different substance. One held water; another held rough gravel; a third held fine sand; a fourth held small pebbles; and the last held smooth, flat rocks that looked perfect for skipping across the glassy surface of a placid pond. Dean's first thought was to simply fill the vase with sand and then water, but that idea was soon thrown out when he realized that there wasn't enough of any of the provided materials to do so, let alone just the sand and water. It looked like he'd have to use everything given to him, then.
He began to mull over his options, absently tapping his fingers against the rough stone surface of the table as he thought. Dean actually felt a little more confident about this test than he had about the riddle; at least here he could use his mechanical and spatial reasoning skills that had been honed by years of taking care of the Impala (and other assorted vehicles), not to mention the training that had been drilled into him by his father over the years. It would make the most sense to go from biggest to smallest, saving the water for last, so that's what Dean did, starting with the smooth, flat rocks. The gravel was next, followed by the pebbles, the sand, and finally the water.
As Dean poured the last few drops of water into the vase, filling it just to the brim, an archway appeared in the far wall, with two light globes snapping on and revealing its location. After he set down the jar the water had been in and then picking up his pack-- he had set it on the floor next to the table to allow him greater range of movement -Dean walked over to the archway and then stepped through. He blinked in surprise when he found himself not in yet another tunnel, as he had expected, but out on a windswept plain that was bathed in the pale light of early morning. He turned around, trying to see if he had come out of a cave or something, but the rocky vista through which he had been traveling had disappeared entirely; all he could see behind him was even more grassy expanse.
The sound of great wings flapping nearby made Dean whirl around and pull his gun, his eyes narrowing against the light coming from the sky. The large form of Akila came into view, making Dean relax ever so slightly. The sphinx landed with a heavy thump a dozen or so feet away from Dean, back-winging rapidly as she neared the ground. Dean lowered his gun and then walked over to Akila, nodding amiably to her in greeting.
“Ah, Dean Winchester, you made it through the tests,” Akila said, taking a seat on the ground and looking approvingly at Dean. “I am glad that you were victorious.”
“Yeah,” Dean said with a shrug. “So am I. So, what's next?”
“Now you must undergo the Trial of the Soul,” Akila told him. “I would be lying if I told you it will be as simple as traversing the breadth of this land, so I will not. It will test you greatly; this may be the most important Trial of all.” She stared off into the distance for a few solemn moments and then shook her head. “My apologies. I owe you your victory token.” She took off the ornate usekh collar that she wore and then carefully removed a piece of metal from it, using her nimble claws to prise it from its fixings. Akila fiddled with it for a moment more and then laid it on the ground in front of Dean. He bent down and picked it up, noting that it was the same size and shape as the quarter-disc that Eli had given him, though in gold rather than silver. Dean put it in the same pocket as the other quarter-disc and then looked up. By the time he had done so, however, Akila had vanished into thin air, leaving Dean standing alone on the windswept plain.
With a look up at the sky and the sun's position therein, Dean faced west and started walking, figuring that it was as good a direction as any. A light breeze ruffled his hair as he walked, bringing with it mysterious scents that tantalized the senses and teased of wild flowers and hidden secrets. Dean just hoped that those secrets wouldn't kill him.
Chapter Word Count: 3,003
Total Fic Word Count: 24,764/?
|| Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four || Chapter Five || Chapter Six || Chapter Seven ||
|| Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine || Chapter Ten
~~~
The dusty silence of the stone maze Dean found himself in was a stark contrast to the sterile busyness of the hospital. Dean marked his path as he went with chalk arrows on the walls, not wanting to double back on himself. He felt a little like Theseus in the Labyrinth, but without a magical ball of string to lead him out and a gorgeous princess waiting for him at the end. Dean chuckled softly to himself, wondering what Sam would say if he knew that he was being compared to the lovely Medea. It probably would have involved one of the younger Winchester's more epic bitch-faces, to be honest, the thought of which made Dean smile as he continued to walk. Speaking of the Labyrinth, Dean sincerely hoped that there weren't going to be any minotaurs or other similar nasties in this place. He eyed the dust laying thick on the floor, searching for any tracks or disturbances. He didn't see any, but that didn't mean nothing was here. After all, there was always the possibility of flying monsters. The gloomy cavern the maze was in was more than large enough to harbor potential aerial threats.
Dean wandered the maze for several hours, trying to work his way to the center the best he could. It might also help if he could find some higher ground, but that would probably necessitate climbing walls. He eyed said walls and found them sorely lacking in hand- or footholds, given their surprisingly good state of repair. Trailing one hand over the surface of the nearest wall (it was gritty to the touch and cool), Dean took a right at a junction and, after several hundred meters, found himself in an area where four different passageways joined. A large statue stood in the center of the junction. It was of an exquisitely detailed winged sphinx, which had been carved in a regal sitting position, with its head held proudly up as it stared into the distance. Its tail was curled around its forepaws and a serene smile graced its face.
Dean looked contemplatively up at the sphinx, taking in the skill needed to craft such a work of art. He reached out and, as if in a trance, placed his hand on an inscription that had been carved into the large plinth the statue rested on. The runes flared an actinic blue before they settled into a steady glow. Dean scrambled back as an ominous cracking rumble came from the sphinx, readying his weapon. The exterior of said carved being began to flake off, with cracks spidering across the rocky surface. With a low, deep groan and a mighty shake, the sphinx rumbled to life, vibrant colors returning to its body as the rock sloughed away. Dean pressed back against the nearest wall, gun pointed directly at the sphinx. She looked at him with kohl-rimmed ruby-red eyes, blinking serenely at the human in front of her.
“Greetings, traveler,” she said, her melodious voice lightly flavored with an Egyptian accent, “and welcome to the Trial of the Mind. I am Akila, Guardian of this Trial. You have already encountered the Guardian of the Trial of the Heart.”
“Wait, you mean Eli?” Dean asked, lowering his gun after putting the safety back on.
Akila inclined her head regally in affirmation and then laid down on the plinth, tucking her front paws neatly under herself. “Are you ready to undertake the trial?”
Dean sighed and then put away his gun. “Do I have any time to eat anything? It's been a while since I've eaten, unless dream-food counts, which I doubt it does.”
“Whenever you are willing to begin, simply speak to me,” Akila said. “You may take as much time as you like.”
“Thanks.” Dean settled himself on the floor, taking some of the food-- jerky and water, as well as some dried fruit, all of which would provide much needed energy relatively quickly -from his pack and began eating, making sure not to eat too fast or too much, as he didn't want to add sickness to his list of things to worry about during these trials. He took about ten minutes to eat, finishing up by wrapping some dried pear-apples in a clean handkerchief before stowing them in one of his jacket pockets for easy access later in case he got hungry. Dean idly wiped his hands off on his pants as he stood up and then looked at Akila.
“All right, what do I have to do for this trial?”
Akila smiled at him with a sharp-toothed grin and then rose to her full height, stretching languorously in place before straightening her posture. “Come with me,” she said, padding away down a long pathway to the north of the clearing. Dean followed after her, continuing to occasionally leave marks on the walls to mark the path. It might have been a little paranoid, but Dean wasn't willing to take any chances, especially not in a place like this. Akila led him through the twisting passageways of the labyrinth, her velveted footfalls surprisingly light and silent against the stone floor. They traveled for an hour or so, heading further and further into the bowels of the maze until Akila stopped next to a roughly hewn stone hut that was pressed up against one of the far walls.
“In there is the second half of your trial,” the sphinx told Dean, gesturing elegantly at the wooden door of the hut. “I cannot accompany you within, unfortunately; I will see you again if you are successful in completing the trial.”
“Thanks,” Dean said with a slight smile. He looked at the hut contemplatively. “Will I need my gear in there, or should I leave it with you?”
“Take it with you,” Akila replied, settling back on her haunches. “It may prove useful.” She paused and then dipped her head. “I will see you later, Dean Winchester. May the gods be with you.” With that, Akila stepped back a few paces and then launched herself into the air, the strong beats of her wings sending up gusts of wind and dust. She was gone before Dean could ask how she knew his name. After a few quick sneezes in response to the flying dust, Dean shook his head to clear his senses and then approached the hut. He pushed the door open with one hand; the wood creaked as the hinges protested the movement, but eventually gave way to Dean's gentle but insistent pressure.
The inside of the hut was dark and gloomy, and smelled strongly of mildew and decay. Dean wrinkled his nose in disgust at the odor, trying to breathe shallowly in through his mouth in order to avoid inhaling the odoriferous smell more than necessary. He looked around, his eyes slowly adjusting to the low light levels. The door swung shut behind him, closing with a sense of finality to the sound. Once the door had closed, a series of lights similar to the ones used in the Havens activated, illuminating the room Dean had entered. A tunnel carved into the living rock at the back of the room curved away out of sight, a trail of light globes showing the way to go. Otherwise, the inside of the hut was empty, though there was less dust and debris here than in the maze outside.
With only one way forward, Dean entered the tunnel, following it as it wound its way upwards, which was a nice change from all the deep underground tunnels the hunter had been in recently. He was honestly starting to miss the sunshine and fresh air, something he'd never thought he'd really ever have to worry about again after Castiel pulled him from Hell. The tunnel meandered through the rock without seeming to have any immediate destination; Dean snacked a little on some of his fruit as he walked, his mind blissfully clear of any thoughts of needless worries. He was keeping an eye out for danger, of course, but he had an odd feeling that he wouldn't be under any immediate physical threats in this trial, given its particular nature.
Dean's musings were cut short when the way forward ended abruptly, the tunnel opening out into a large cavern. A deep gorge cut through the middle of the cavern, with the far side just barely visible. The sound of water echoed up from far below; it was a dull rumble that Dean was just able to hear. A short basalt obelisk jutted up from the ground near the gorge's edge, and Dean could see words carved into the nearest of its smooth sides. His curiosity piqued, Dean made his way over to the obelisk. Once he was close enough to it, Dean was able to make out the words carved into the stone. The lettering was sharp and angular, reminding him of Norse runes. The words were thankfully in English, though Dean suspected that, regardless of whatever language the words had originally been carved in, they would be legible to whomever was reading them. Dean circled around the obelisk, trying to see if there were any other words he couldn't see. There weren't, so he made his way back to the inscription and crouched down in order to read it. The words were as follows:
Man walks over, man walks under;
In times of war he burns asunder.
The answer is that which you need to progress
And continue the path to the end of your quest.
Dean read the inscription several times over, mouthing the words to himself as he went. He sat back on his heels, idly running a hand over his face and then through his hair. A riddle. Huh. This sort of thing was usually Sam's department, but since Sam wasn't here, it fell to Dean to solve it. He mused over the inscription for a few more minutes, sitting down and then staring blankly out across the gorge. After a while, Dean blinked rapidly a few times as he realized what the answer to the riddle was, a grin forming on his face.
“A bridge,” he said, breaking the silence that had accompanied him since he'd entered the second half of the trial. “You can walk over it, you walk under it, and you can burn one, both metaphorically and literally. That's the answer.” He paused. “Great. Now that I know that, what do I--?”
A low rumble and the sticky feeling of magic being cast nearby-- the Winchesters had encountered magic-users far too often in their lives and were intimately familiar with how large works of magic turned the air sticky and humid, like a Southern summer's afternoon --alerted Dean to the formation of an elegantly arched stone bridge that spanned the entirety of the gorge. He got to his feet, brushed off the dust that had collected on his clothing, and then carefully made his way up onto the bridge. He moved slowly, as there weren't any handrails; at one point near the apex of the bridge, Dean had to go on hands and knees, given how narrow the stone path was. He resisted looking down as much as possible, keeping his gaze on the stone beneath him. Dean breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the other side, pausing for a few moments to regain his bearings before getting to his feet and dusting himself off once more.
The path continued slowly spiraling upwards, entering yet another tunnel that, at several key points, had travel runes carved into its walls and floor. Dean was just starting to wonder what other trials he might face when he entered a second cave-- more like a rocky chamber, to be honest --- and halted, any further progress stopped as he had run into a dead end. There was no indication of what he should do next, nor any overt sign of the next trial. Dean sighed softly and then stepped fully into the chamber. With a rumble and scrape of rock against rock, a door Dean had previously not noticed shut, closing off the tunnel behind him. He was glad that the chamber was still lit by the light globes; otherwise, it would not have gone well. As much as Dean was comfortable in the dark, he did not like being trapped in dark rooms without any form of egress.
A square stone table stood in the center of the room, sharply defined by one large light globe directly overhead. As soon as Dean reached the table, all of the light globes save for the one right above him snapped out, leaving him in a stark pool of golden illumination. The top of the table had a vase standing on its exact center; it was the approximate size and shape of a standard Mason Jar. A button was next to the hollow, with an inscribed plaque above it reading, Fill the container as completely as possible using the materials provided to you. If you fail, the test will begin again until you achieve your goal. Should you choose to turn back, simply state so in a clear voice and you will be returned to the beginning of the Trial. Press the button to begin your test.
“Huh,” Dean murmured, and then, with a shrug, pushed the button. Five small open-mouth earthenware jars appeared around the perimeter of the circle of light, each filled with a different substance. One held water; another held rough gravel; a third held fine sand; a fourth held small pebbles; and the last held smooth, flat rocks that looked perfect for skipping across the glassy surface of a placid pond. Dean's first thought was to simply fill the vase with sand and then water, but that idea was soon thrown out when he realized that there wasn't enough of any of the provided materials to do so, let alone just the sand and water. It looked like he'd have to use everything given to him, then.
He began to mull over his options, absently tapping his fingers against the rough stone surface of the table as he thought. Dean actually felt a little more confident about this test than he had about the riddle; at least here he could use his mechanical and spatial reasoning skills that had been honed by years of taking care of the Impala (and other assorted vehicles), not to mention the training that had been drilled into him by his father over the years. It would make the most sense to go from biggest to smallest, saving the water for last, so that's what Dean did, starting with the smooth, flat rocks. The gravel was next, followed by the pebbles, the sand, and finally the water.
As Dean poured the last few drops of water into the vase, filling it just to the brim, an archway appeared in the far wall, with two light globes snapping on and revealing its location. After he set down the jar the water had been in and then picking up his pack-- he had set it on the floor next to the table to allow him greater range of movement -Dean walked over to the archway and then stepped through. He blinked in surprise when he found himself not in yet another tunnel, as he had expected, but out on a windswept plain that was bathed in the pale light of early morning. He turned around, trying to see if he had come out of a cave or something, but the rocky vista through which he had been traveling had disappeared entirely; all he could see behind him was even more grassy expanse.
The sound of great wings flapping nearby made Dean whirl around and pull his gun, his eyes narrowing against the light coming from the sky. The large form of Akila came into view, making Dean relax ever so slightly. The sphinx landed with a heavy thump a dozen or so feet away from Dean, back-winging rapidly as she neared the ground. Dean lowered his gun and then walked over to Akila, nodding amiably to her in greeting.
“Ah, Dean Winchester, you made it through the tests,” Akila said, taking a seat on the ground and looking approvingly at Dean. “I am glad that you were victorious.”
“Yeah,” Dean said with a shrug. “So am I. So, what's next?”
“Now you must undergo the Trial of the Soul,” Akila told him. “I would be lying if I told you it will be as simple as traversing the breadth of this land, so I will not. It will test you greatly; this may be the most important Trial of all.” She stared off into the distance for a few solemn moments and then shook her head. “My apologies. I owe you your victory token.” She took off the ornate usekh collar that she wore and then carefully removed a piece of metal from it, using her nimble claws to prise it from its fixings. Akila fiddled with it for a moment more and then laid it on the ground in front of Dean. He bent down and picked it up, noting that it was the same size and shape as the quarter-disc that Eli had given him, though in gold rather than silver. Dean put it in the same pocket as the other quarter-disc and then looked up. By the time he had done so, however, Akila had vanished into thin air, leaving Dean standing alone on the windswept plain.
With a look up at the sky and the sun's position therein, Dean faced west and started walking, figuring that it was as good a direction as any. A light breeze ruffled his hair as he walked, bringing with it mysterious scents that tantalized the senses and teased of wild flowers and hidden secrets. Dean just hoped that those secrets wouldn't kill him.