Trial of Five Ch. 01

112 BD

Wyndi knelt upon the stone with her head bowed and eyes closed in supplication. The chamber was cool as a vent in the ceiling gave access for the fresh winter air to enter, swirl about Wyndi and provide her with its comfort and companionship, then leave the same way it entered like a familiar house guest. It gave her a greater connection to the outside world, something she desperately needed in times like this.

The meditation chamber was a room devoted for deep thought. For the clearing of negative thoughts and emotion so that inner clarity could be reached alongside unclouded reasoning and judgment. New perspectives were meant to be reached here and all Wyndi had to do was empty her mind of her troubles, breathe, and let the world fade away.

Her aching knees made that incredibly difficult to do.

Wyndi grimaced as she tried to adjust her posture, but that only seemed to make matters worse. How in the world did the others kneel like this without any sort of discomfort? They made it look so easy!

Sighing in defeat, Wyndi left her position and flopped onto her butt instead, her legs stretched out in front of her like a child. It was most certainly not the regal posture of a soon-to-be knight of the Five Circles, but it sure beat the sensation of her legs feeling like they were on the verge of snapping.

She sighed as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes. Meditation. Right. Let go of her nervousness. Let go of her fear. It was all going to be fine. Perspective. She needed a new perspective so that-

The door behind her opened.

Wyndi yelped and immediately bolted to her feet, hoping whoever was entering hadn't seen her sitting like a bear enjoying a large pot of honey. Or... something.

Two women entered, both wore armor (if one could call it that) and a wreath of roses on their heads. They giggled to each other as they entered, but quickly froze as they saw Wyndi standing there.

"Oh! Squire Wyndillyn!" Lady Kliressa said. "We weren't aware that you were using this room."

"Yeah, um, wanted to get in some last minute meditation before my trials," Wyndi said, trying her very best to avert her gaze from the two very attractive knights.

"Right, you have those today! Don't you worry, you'll do great, I'm sure!" Lady Glimyra said with a smile.

"You think so?" Wyndi returned the smile sheepishly. "I don't suppose you can offer any advice?"

Both women shook their heads. "Afraid not," said Kliressa. "Saying anything about the trials is strictly forbidden."

Wyndi sighed, but nodded. "I know."

"Chin up though!" Glimyra said. "By this time tomorrow, you'll be officially one of us! Well, maybe not us us, as in Roses, but you know what I mean."

"Yes, ma'am."

Glimyra raised an eyebrow before leaning over and faux-whispering to her companion, "she's cute!"

Wyndi's face reddened which elicited a series of giggles from the other two women. Members of the Circle of Rose were like that for some reason. Or, at least, the Lower Caste members were. They seemed to revel in getting reactions out of those around them and having a spotlight casted upon them. It's what made them good orators and facilitators. It's also why they seemed to favor armor that showed off plenty of leg, midriff, and bosom despite its horrid impracticality.

"Er, um..." Wyndi stammered, trying to find a way to change the subject. "Did you... also come to meditate?"

Kliressa and Glimyra glanced at each other. "You... could say that," Kliressa responded.

"Oh, then I... I should probably get out of your hair then! It's getting pretty close to my trial time, so I should probably get a move on anyway!" Mentally, Wyndi sighed in relief at having an excuse to evacuate, as it was starting to get very difficult to avoid looking at either woman's ample cleavage. Unfortunately, as she made her way to the door, a hand caught her on the arm.

"Wait!" Glimyra said, then leaned in and gave Wyndi a kiss on the cheek. "For good luck."

Wyndi squeaked in surprise, as well as other emotions. "Um, th-thanks!" was all she could manage to stutter out before slipping out of the room. As she fled down the hall, she heard another chorus of giggling as well the faint beginnings of a conversation before the door closed again.

"She'd make a great Lower Iron, wouldn't she?"

"Oh, agreed. And if she is, I for one think we ought to pay her another visit."

~~~

Wyndi arrived at the ritual chamber, deep within the bowels of Fort Dawnlight, just as she finished wiping off the last remnants of Lady Glimyra's lipstick from her cheek. She found the door to already be open with someone waiting for her inside. Tentatively, she stepped in.

Sir Wildern stood off to the side with his back to her as he fed a portion of a biscuit to his pet bird, Mincey, as it sat on its perch. Even like that, though, Wildern's posture commanded authority and stability. He was a tall, broad man who tended to garner awe or fear wherever he went from his physical prowess alone. A simple, golden ring adorned his head. It was by far the least ornate crown Wyndi had ever seen, but it didn't need to be. It sent a message. It said "I do not need to have ornate baubles resting upon my temples to convince you of my station."

The Five Circles didn't have one official leader and Sir Wildern wasn't by means the only member of the High Golden Circle to have this sort of effect, but that didn't change the way Wyndi's breath caught in intimidation as she walked deeper into the room.

"Are you prepared, Squire Wyndillyn?" Wildern said, his voice low, yet warm. He scritched Mincey along the side of the neck before turning to face her.

"Yes, sir."

"Then kneel in the center of the room."

Not again... Wyndi groaned internally, but did as she was told. Wildern walked across the room to where a miniature botany station was set up, procuring a single vial from its stand. The contents glowed with a liquid that swirled and spiraled with five different colors.

"How... how did you make that?"

Wildern actually chuckled, which surprised her. He seemed so stoic, so stern, like a statue. Statues did not have a sense of humor.

"I did not. Only the Higher Circle of Glass members know of its contents and recipe. They're rather protective of their secrets like that."

Oh, Wyndi thought, feeling marginally embarrassed. She should've known that!

Wildern approached and knelt down on one knee. He proffered the vial to her, but pulled it away as Wyndi reached for it.

"Prepare yourself, Wyndillyn. Know that this ritual is meant to find where you belong within our ranks. Not everyone experiences all five trials, and that's perfectly fine. Do not feel lesser if you only undergo four or two or even one."

"Are... are you supposed to be telling me this?" Wyndi said, then winced as she immediately regretted it. Talking back to a High Gold, no matter the context, was like trying to beat the sun in a staring contest. Stupid and ultimately a painful experience.

Wildern smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling. That was also uncomfortable. Those deep, slate-colored eyes should not have been kind of all things.

"No, not really. But I have been hearing talk this past week about how nervous you've been for this day and wanted to help put your mind at ease."

"Th... Thank you," Wyndi said, blushing. This time it actually wasn't from attraction. Aesthetically, she could see the appeal in Wildern. She understood logically why some of the other women practically drooled over him, but he wasn't Wyndi's type. No, instead she simply felt overwhelmed by the generosity. It was far more than she deserved.

"In the case that you do experience multiple trials," Wildern continued. "Be careful, as you'll be... taking something with you from each one."

Wyndi blinked. What was that supposed to mean?"

"I'm sorry, but that truly is the extent I can allow myself to break the rules here," he said, obviously reading the confusion in her expression. He then handed her the vial and rose, going over to a nearby chair and sat down, grabbing a book from a nearby table.

"You're... not leaving?" Wyndi asked.

"Of course not," Wildern said, not glancing up from his book.

"But won't this take a while?"

"Multiple days, potentially."

"So... why?"

This time he did look up. "The Return can be rather... disconcerting for some people. I like to be there for those who need me to be."

Well that was both somehow comforting and discomforting at the same time. Wonderful.

Wildern returned to his reading while Mincey cocked its head at Wyndi, its iridescent beak reflecting the room's candlelight. Wyndi glanced down at the vial, her heart hammering. Here she was, at the precipice of no return. She could get up, she could walk away. And waste the past five years of her life. But... what if something went wrong? What if she ended up in a less-than-ideal order? Certain Circles weren't meant for everyone and if Wyndi ended up in one by mistake...

She fought the urge to hyperventilate as she glanced back at Sir Wildern. To her surprise, he wasn't actually reading as she caught his eyes covertly watching her from over the page. He smiled as he realized he'd been caught, then innocently went back to the book.

Wyndi closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He cared, as did Glyndira and Kliressa. As did the entire knightly order itself if concerned word had spread in regards to her anxieties of this moment. Whatever happened, they'd be there for her.

So she grounded herself, pushed all thoughts away, grounded herself to the here and now. She relaxed. She meditated.

Then pulled the stopper from the vial and downed its contents.

~~~

Wyndi opened her eyes and found herself decidedly no longer in the ritual room. Cold stone and moody lighting had been replaced with an opulent study with walls lined with books and tomes. A fire roared in a nearby hearth, filling the room with comfortable warmth and ambient lighting. It was also empty. Sir Wildern and his bird completely vanished.

It's more potent than I thought, Wyndi mused to herself, standing up. Apart from a slight swimming of her vision, the hallucination felt incredibly real. She stood and lightly rapped her knuckles on a nearby table. And she could feel the wood on her skin. Wyndi smiled in amazement.

Amazement quickly turned to shock and horror as soon as she looked down to inspect herself.

Her previous clothing of a simple tunic and trousers were gone and replaced by a maid's uniform. That wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for the fact that it was obscenely low cut and short. The thing was scandalously frilly and salacious to the point that any sense of modesty practically went out the window. Even the vial she'd previously been holding had transformed into a dainty feather duster that looked to be more like a prop than an actual tool.

No no no! This is not happening! Wyndi thought frantically as her face burned red and she felt her heart hammering in her chest. What if someone saw her like this? She didn't even want to think of it as she desperately hunted for something she could put on over this... this farce of an outfit.

The doors to the study suddenly flung open and a woman stepped in.

Oh no, Wyndi gulped, her blush growing deeper. Worse yet, the woman was gorgeous. She was tall with delicate features, long, rich chocolate hair, as well as an opulent dress and several pieces of jewelry.

"Ah, there you are, Gwendyllyn," she said, her voice tinged with the telltale signs of class and status.

"U-um, it's actually-"

"I see you haven't started on the study yet. Well don't mind me while you work." She gestured for Wyndi to carry on with her business as she took a seat on a plush sofa by the fireplace.

Wyndi blinked. Was... this her first trial? Be some kind of provocative maid for a rich socialite? But... what was that meant to test? Was she supposed to do as she was told, or was there more to it? The thoughts made Wyndi's head spin as an odd aroma wafted through the room. She glanced back at the woman to see her looking at Wyndi expectantly. Well, might as well play along for now until she got more information about what she was meant to do.

Stepping up to one of the shelves, Wyndi ran her duster across the surface, sweeping away a layer of dust. She raised her eyebrows. Huh. Guess it actually did do its job. Wyndi continued dusting, feeling a new rush of embarrassment as she had to lean down to clean one of the lower shelves, exposing far too much posterior for her liking as she did so. Once finished, she stood and glanced over her shoulder to ensure the woman hadn't been looking.

She was.

At some point she seemed to have gotten a glass of wine from somewhere and was calmly sipping on it with her gaze fixed on Wyndi, her eyes clearly wandering. Eventually that stare rose and she made eye contact with Wyndi.

"Is... there something wrong, ma'am?" Wyndi asked tentatively.

"Not at all," the woman responded with a smirk. "Just enjoying the view."

Wyndi squeaked and immediately turned away to continue her work, pleading under her breath for some kind of sign to tell her what to do so that she could get out of this terrible situation.

"You know, Gwen," the woman said. "I still find it quite... unique how you insist on choosing to wear a modified uniform rather than a traditional one."

What?

"I-I don't, ma'am. I simply, erm, woke up wearing this, I guess. I really don't... under... don't understand wh... what's... going..."

Wyndi blinked rapidly. Something suddenly felt off. Her head grew thick for a moment, as smothered by a heavy fog, but then disappeared. What had she just been thinking about? That she hadn't chosen to wear this outfit? But... she had, hadn't she? She clearly remembered putting it on this morning, just as she had every morning. So... why did that feel off?

"You were saying something, Gwen dear?" the mistress of the house said.

"Was I?" Gwen asked. That... was her name, wasn't it?

"About why you wear that maid's uniform rather than the ones my other servants wear." Mistress smiled encouragingly.

"Oh, right." Gwen shrugged. "I'm not really sure." She returned the smile then continued tidying up the room while her mind continued to churn. Why did she prefer this design over the others? It was rather daring, afterall. And it drew so many eyes because of that. Well, she supposed it was kind of comfortable. Plus, it was nice to be noticed for once. Gwen was so used to being overlooked at the fortre- manor by the other knig- servants. Being actually seen for once in any capacity was a nice change of pace. She felt recognized. Noticed. Desired.

She glanced over her shoulder again to see Mistress still eyeing her, one eyebrow cocked as she studied Gwen's ample bosom--the bodice of the uniform did her plenty of favors there. She found herself giggling and winking before turning away again.

Reality suddenly smashed her in the face. Why in the world had she just done that? She wasn't a flirt! She could hardly stutter out a compliment of someone's choice of footwear without blushing like a schoolgirl! But... she just had, hadn't she? And it felt... nice. Gwen could feel Mistress's stare becoming more focused, more attentive from the simple gesture. All that attention, it made her self-esteem sky rocket. Someone was actually interested in her. Sure, it might've just been her body, but that was still better than being invisible. So why not embrace that?

Gwen smiled to herself and put a bit of sway in her hips as she stepped over to the next shelf. She spared a glance back at Mistress to find that she'd set her glass down and had her eyes positively glued to Gwen's backside. She smiled in a way she hoped was promiscuous then "accidentally" dropped her feather duster. "Oops!" Arching her back, she bent over and took her time picking it up.

"Actually, I think I've managed to come up with an answer myself."

"And what is it, Mistress?" Gwen asked with mock innocence. She knew she was driving Mistress wild right now. She had to be. There wasn't a chance she'd be able to think of anything other than her pretty, dutiful maid.

Gwen stood up with a grin that quickly turned into a yelp as she abruptly felt one hand wrap around her waist and another grab hold of one of her breasts from behind.

"It's because," Mistress said, her hot breath right on Gwen's ear. She blushed. "You're a little attention whore. Isn't that right, dear?"

Gwen blinked. What? No! That wasn't it at all! Teasing and getting some looks here and there to make herself feel good was one thing, but an attention whore? Absolutely not! She didn't do this all the time! Just occasionally.

"N-no, Mistress. I'm no-" her voice shifted into a gasp as Mistress began to knead at Gwen's breast and nuzzle the side of her neck.

"You just crave that limelight, don't you? Any time you're in a room, it always has to be allll about you, doesn't it?" Gwen whimpered as her mistress continued groping her. It wasn't true. It just wasn't! "Always have to be the prettiest, the most interesting, the most talked about. You just positively live for it."

"N-nuh uh!"

"No?" Mistress chuckled. "Well you sure like the attention I'm giving you now. I bet you'd love the idea of me putting you front and center at one of my dinner parties in a little skimpy dress and have you dance for all my guests. I bet you're imagining it now."

Gwen squeezed her eyes shut. Oh gods, she was. And it was amazing. So many people awed by her, adoring her. So many overcome with mind-numbing lust that they were transfixed, practically drooling. The mere fantasy of it was enough to get Gwen hot under the collar.

"Such a show-off," Mistress cooed. "You can't rightly deny it. Not when your tits and ass are practically spilling out every day. So go on, admit it."

"Mmph!" Gwen whined, biting her lip. She hadn't realized she'd begun thrusting her chest into the smooth, delicate hands on her mistress, her thumb running over Gwen's erect nipple through the thin fabric.

"Oh come now, little maid. This little display of yours proves my point with every passing second."

Gwen tried hard to block her words out. She failed miserably. They kept echoing in her mind, telling her to confess. The longer they went on, the harder they were to ignore, until, finally, she snapped...

"You're right!" Gwen cried, practically panting now.

"About what?"

"M-me. I'm... I'm a..."

"Go on, dear."

"An attention whore!" Gwen squealed and was rewarded with a firm squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

"Good girl~" Mistress let go and sauntered back to her seat. "I just love it when girls are true to themselves like you, sweetie."

Gwen shook in place, desperately trying to regain her composure. Something felt... strange about this moment. She felt as if she were standing on a precipice, the wind buffeting her in one direction, but she could fight it if she wanted and lean another way. But... fight what? She couldn't understand what that meant. She'd already admitted to being a needy little tease. What more was there to do?

The realization came to her in a flash and she grinned. She was an attention whore, sure. But that didn't mean she had to take the treatment she took lying down. A tiny voice in the back of her mind told her that her conclusion was off, but she brushed it aside. She'd made her decision.

Gwen sashayed across the room towards Mistress, hooding her eyelids seductively. She then climbed onto the sofa and straddled her madame's lap, placing her hands on the woman's shoulders. Mistress smiled in appreciation.