As before, once the ritual was complete, they threw the whelps back in their cells to face their fate. The shamans all circled in the sanctuary to wait and watch.
The trial began much different than the first. After Zyx settled back into his cell expecting some sort of pain to begin, nothing happened. Everything seemed exactly as it was. There was no warning about what was coming.
Zyx wondered if Grattird was experiencing anything, so he curled his legs under him, focused his spirit and reached out to her.
“You feel things?” Zyx asked.
Grattird heard the familiar whisper of her friend and was glad. “No, I fine.”
“You think this trial?” Zyx wondered.
“It seem easy. Maybe we pass?”
“Maybe. I feels it too easy. Something else happen.”
“I feels you right,” Grattird agreed and they sat and waited for whatever was next.
It happened suddenly. One moment the whelps were sitting in their cells slightly tense with anticipation. The next moment the world around them tried to swallow them.
Zyx saw the walls begin to close on him and he leapt up from the ground and scrambled about the cell trying to escape. The door to the cell appeared as teeth however and tried to bite him whenever he neared so he kept to the back but then pushed against the wall to try to prevent them from crushing him. Cackling laughs echoed around him and mocked his fear.
Unable to escape, Zyx huddled into a ball and cried in desperation. He closed his eyes tightly wishing it all away, but when he opened his eyes hands were grabbing him and pulled him through the stone deeper into the mountain. He fell through layers of rock and passed endless lost souls which screamed at him with shrills that pierced his ears and deafened him. These tormented spirits clawed at the small goblin and appeared to be trying to grab him and pull him into their endless hell.