Shroud Arcanum

The dust from the fallen abomination hadn't even settled when a shimmering, crystalline door began to form at the center of the arena. Its facets caught the dim light, casting kaleidoscope patterns across the worn and battered floor.

In the midst of the group's weary relief, the voice of the Asura echoed, deep and resonant, "Pass through the door to face the next trial when you are prepared." Simultaneously, two gleaming crystals manifested in mid-air, gently floating toward Irys and Zalya. With practiced ease, they reached out and secured the crystals.

At the heart of a vast crystalline chamber, a majestic throne stood elevated on a dais. The entire room seemed to pulse with a luminescent glow, each facet and corner reflecting and refracting light in a myriad of patterns.

Seated upon the throne was the Asura, an imposing figure whose very presence exuded both authority and raw power. One of its massive beastly arms cradled its chin in contemplation.

Holographic projections showing scenes from the Colosseum shimmered in the air before him. He observed Liam and his companions as they took a brief rest. "My dear friends," he murmured to unseen figures, "Your child does not disappoint so far. I hope what you both paid for him is worth it. He does bring an interesting group with him. Perhaps I should place my stakes on them."

Meanwhile, back in the remnants of their recent battlefield, Liam approached the spot where his weapon had embedded into the abomination, Talonstrike's hilt protruded audaciously from the rubble, its well-worn handle beckoning him.

He crouched beside it, fingers wrapping around its familiar contours, and with a firm pull, dislodged it. With a thought, he caused the blade to dematerialize, its form dissipating into a fine mist.

Internally, he voiced his concern to Trik, his mental companion, "Trik, is it damaged?"

Trik's response, with playful mischief, came swiftly, "Oh, just a little scratch! Don't worry, it'll heal up in no time. Besides, every scar has a story, right? And yours just says 'Used as a makeshift nail by a fierce warrior lady.' Not a bad tale, huh?"

Liam ignored Trik's teasing, his clear blue eyes looking at Irys, "Thanks for... making such good use of it," he commented with a wry smile.

Irys, with her Black-blue hair tousled from the fight, chuckled as she leaned on her Warhammer. Her amber catlike eyes danced with mirth as she responded, "Well, when you throw something that nice my way, it'd be rude not to make the most of it."

Liam then found a relatively comfortable area near the crystalline door. Settling down, he then proceeds to retrieve a small jar of healing salve.

As he applied it, the thick mixture gave off a soothing aroma, and the cuts and abrasions on his skin began to close, almost as if they were being sewn together by an invisible hand.

While treating his injuries, his attention shifted to Irys. She was also busy applying the same healing salve to a deep wound on her thigh.

Curiosity got the better of him, "Irys, I noticed during the fight, your eyes... they turned red. What was that about?"

Irys paused, looking up from her wound. "Ah, that's a trait of my race. When we're enraged or feel extreme emotions, our eyes turn red. It enhances our focus and combat abilities, honing in on our enemies."

Overhearing their conversation, Aric added with a grin, "Trust me, Liam, when those eyes become red, it's a wise choice to be elsewhere."

Irys shot Aric a playful glare, "I won't kill anyone, promise. I might just give them a little... hammer love," she said, chuckling.

At that moment, Zalya, who had been silently healing her wound, chimed in with a more serious tone. Her face was concerned as she looked at Irys, "I do suggest you stay away from her if her eyes turn red. She will have a hard time differentiating between friends and foes."

Liam imagined being on the receiving end of her Warhammer and internally cringed. "Being 'pummeled' by that massive thing? Yeah, hard pass," he thought.

Redirecting the conversation, he then turned to Aric, "Speaking of unusual things, that abomination earlier... Where did it come from? Weren't you only supposed to hold back those knights and spearmen?"

Aric rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "When I kick the spearmen into the knights, I certainly didn't expect them to start fusing."

Zalya, her silver hair reflecting the dim light, added, "It might have been a survival mechanism. Perhaps the fusion was triggered because only two of them remained? Remember, by that time the archer and rogue had already been taken down."

Liam pondered over this new information, the weight of the battle still heavy on his shoulders. "Had we not taken out the archer first, would we have faced an abomination that could shoot arrows? That's worrying."

Irys stretched her limbs and shrugged, "In the end, does it matter? It is already dead. Right now, I care more about filling my stomach." She gave Zalya a pointed look, her lips curling into a half-smile, "Speaking of which, Zalya, can you whip up something? I am starving."

Zalya, always prepared, reached into her leather pouch, pulling out a small cube. She set it on the ground a few feet away from her. Within moments, the cube began to expand and transform, unfolding itself into a fully-equipped kitchen with a fridge and a compact cooking range.

Liam, his curiosity piqued, walked closer, inspecting the transformed cube. "That's... impressive. How does it even work? And where can I get one?"

Zalya, busy gathering ingredients, replied without looking, "You might find them in the Shroud. As for how it works... beats me. It's a Nexelites' creation. Most of the high-tech device you see around is crafted by them."

Aric, smirking, opened the fridge and retrieved several water bottles. "Just make sure you're loaded if you're thinking of buying one. It's quite expensive," he remarked, tossing a bottle each to Liam and Irys.

Liam caught his bottle effortlessly, nodding appreciatively at Zalya, "Thanks."

Aric raised an eyebrow, feigning offense, "Hey! I'm the one handing them out here."

Irys took a long sip, smirking, "But she's the one who actually bought them, isn't she?"

Liam watched Aric and Irys exchange words with a slight smile on his face. The scene was oddly heartwarming, reminding him of simpler times. It had been years since he found himself in the midst of such a festive.

While he had acquaintances, he often kept them at arm's length, a defense mechanism born from the fear of betrayal. However, the danger of his current situation had left him with little choice but to stick together. The dynamic within the group, especially the banter, reminded him of the days when his parents were still around.

Aric noticed the subtle shift in Liam's demeanor. "Something on your mind?" he asked, an eyebrow raised in query.

Liam shook his head, brushing away the nostalgia. "Just thinking about what's next. What can we expect in the upcoming trial?"

Aric pondered a moment before replying, "It varies, the guardian present a trial to assess our character or resolve.."

"That's somewhat reassuring," Liam said with a sigh, "So, the next trial might not be as dangerousl?"

As Zalya finely sliced a vibrant purple vegetable with spiky exteriors and a lump of curious blue meat that emitted a faint, luminescent glow, chimed in, she added, "There's no certainty with the guardians. They might change the trial on a whim. We should always be prepared for anything."