Your eyes adjust to the scant lighting in the chamber, and you shiver as you scan the metal around you. It was bare, cold, and empty. You tilt your chin upwards in defiance. You would make it through this, you were meant to.
A shiver of fear rams through your body as the wind changes and you find yourself in a forest. The trees around you are tall and dark, their leaves blowing violently. You hear a growl from your left, and you turn quickly, searching for the source. Then, on the right, a whimper reaches your ears. You whip around, where could it be? And then you spot them, the six sets of yellow eyes coming out around you. The wolves, the ones that had haunted your dreams since you went to the summer camp as a page and saw the witch-women speak to them. Their movements were disturbingly human, and they bared their teeth. You search for an opening, any chance of escape. You bite your lip to keep from screaming, and you draw blood. You must beat them, kill the beasts. They move in closer, and you realize that there is no chance. They will eat you if you don't run.
So you do, break through their circle and run as fast as you can, jumping and swerving over logs and even as you do the scene shifts before your eyes. Arrows fly past your head. One grazes your arm but you keep going. You look at your enemy, but you cannot see them, they are shielded by magic. That scares you more than the wolves ever could. You search for a place to hide, anywhere. An arrow strikes your leg, and you fall to the ground. It is an open plain, not a single rock, not even long grass. Every part of your body is burning, you feel heavy and helpless. Another arrow strikes your side, and you close your eyes, praying to every God you know to rescue you.
And suddenly you are on the top of Balor's needle. You are puzzled, for you were never afraid of heights, but suddenly you feel the ground lurch beneath you and you are flung from the steps. You scramble to grab a hold, and grab a step. It is rusty, the red metal cuts into your fingers and breaks. You fall, grabbing another handhold just in time. You pull with all of your might but your arms seem to have gone numb. They burn with the pain of the arrow wounds and the effort of holding your weight up. Your eyes tear up as you feel your fright; more pronounced then it has ever been before. You spot someone at the top.
It is Kel, her eyes kind and helpful. You feel the familiar heat, the old feeling of hate rise in your body. It nearly brings bile to your mouth. She holds out a hand, an unworthy, female hand, to offer you help. You glare at her. She mouths your name, "Joren", but it carries no sound.
"Joren, let me help you." She says it wordlessly, and you feel sick. This chamber was clever, but he would not fall for its vile tricks.
"Never!" you growl, and then gasp. You were not to emit sound in the chamber of the Ordeal.
And suddenly you are falling, into black, into nothing.