Tobias forced a smile, though it barely came out as a smirk.
“I suppose I have you to thank for that,” Flynn said. “And the Healer, of course. But mostly you.”
“It was no trouble.” Tobias gnawed at his loaf of bread, trying to dismiss the Lord, but he didn’t move.
“She asked you a relevant question, you know. Why did you save me?”
Tobias shrugged. “Why not?”
“Well, I’m your competition. Steep competition at that.” He crossed his arms. “I’m rather charming. Women are fond of me. The Savior will be harder to impress, I’m sure, but I’m certainly more qualified to do the job than you—”
“Have you finished yet?”
Flynn laughed. “I’m only joking. I’m just struggling to understand, is all—why you saved me.”
Tobias didn’t answer, staring past Flynn altogether. Flynn looked over his shoulder, following the path of Tobias’s gaze to Kaleo.
“The Shepherd. He killed your friend.”
Tobias growled, “My brother.”
“Then you have a new brother. I am forever in your debt.” Flynn paused, rethinking his words. “Well, perhaps I shouldn’t say forever. Know that if it is you and I at the end—”
“You’ll kill me.”
“But only if I absolutely must.” He extended his hand. “Until then, brothers?”
Tobias stared at his hand, but he didn’t move.
“You won’t shake?”
“I didn’t save you for recompense,” Tobias said. “You owe me nothing.”
“Then accept my friendship for another reason of your choosing. Perhaps because I’m funny and rather good company.”
Flynn kept his hand steady, refusing to budge, but neither did Tobias.
“Still nothing?”
“Forgive me if I’m not easily persuaded.”
Flynn dropped his hand. “Understandable given the situation. I suppose my word requires evidence. In due time.”
“You waste your efforts.”
“Nonsense. One day we’ll look back at this exchange and laugh.”
“You’re awfully confident.”
Flynn chuckled, shaking his head. “You know, Artist, I have allies here. It’s a great position to find yourself in. And you will find yourself in that position soon enough.” He backed away. “We’ll talk soon, I’m sure.”
Another grin, and he ambled away, leaving Tobias alone with his bread. He ate it quickly—he was starving like usual—but the scant meal was spoiled soon after, as the Proctor trudged into the sanctuary. The men stood upon his arrival, and though Tobias was among them, he certainly lacked the others’ eagerness.
“The time has come,” the Proctor said. “Today, you meet The Savior.”
A clanking filled the space; the back wall broke apart brick by brick, revealing a darkened portal leading far from the labyrinth.
The Proctor nodded at the portal. “She is waiting.”
The men filed into the darkness with Tobias trailing the line, heading off to meet the Woman he would potentially marry—or die for.
The trek was short and overwhelmingly black, leading the men to a small, dank room. Stone walls, stone floor, and a long, stone bench—a simple space, yet it was somehow perfectly illuminated without any torches in sight. Four ornate chairs in gold filigree sat paces ahead, the only hint of majesty in an otherwise bleak, grey room. The emptiness struck Tobias, as he had expected armored guards, spears, and shields, but the thought disappeared once the air before him rippled like water—an invisible barrier separating the chairs from the men.
The Savior’s magic.
The Proctor joined the men, taking a stand beside the translucent barrier. “Welcome to your First Impressions. Today, you will meet The Savior. You will speak with The Savior.” His eyes shrank into slits. “Each of you will ask one question—one chance to familiarize yourself with Her Holiness. First impressions can be lasting. Choose your words wisely, for they may dictate your path in this tournament.”
Some of the men squirmed, fighting to subdue their arousal, while others stood tall, the tournament theirs to win.
The Proctor stepped to the side. “Gentlemen, I give to you The Savior.”
The line of men stood alert, reacting as one. One by one, Her court filed into the room. The Healer was first, draped in her black cloak, and next came the woman in olive green, her eyes large and bright. Delphi followed, each woman taking her place in front of a golden chair, leaving one remaining—a seat for The Savior.
Tobias’s heart beat faster, filling him with heightened self-awareness; he of all people was about to lay eyes on The Savior, an honor surely better suited for someone who had entered for love as opposed to coin. He shook the thought away; perhaps this was the moment when everything would change. Perhaps, right now, he would join the others in their fierce adoration.
One last Woman entered the room, Her head bowed and hidden from view.