The Phantom’s Gambit

[No one could manipulate the Fates, except the Creator. I thought Octavius was my Gambit, but why does it seem like I've played right into the Phantom's hand?]

Void shook his head, dispelling the notion. "No, that can't be," he thought. "I'm reading too much into this. The world is full of artifacts left behind by mystical beings. Just because the intricate lines on the box bear the mark of the Creator, doesn't mean anything. 

He reassured himself that Octavius's exceptional nature was simply a result of his mother's distinct bloodline.

He had looked into the family enough to know that Octavius's mother had a unique heritage, one that could certainly explain her son's remarkable abilities. It was a more plausible explanation, one that didn't involve the unthinkable: that the gods themselves were involved. Void's mind refused to entertain the idea, and he focused instead on the task at hand, watching as Octavius and the others prepared to tackle the puzzle.

"It's just a box with weird lines," one of the few said in frustration, after a futile attempt to decipher the box. 

"What puzzle are we supposed to solve? I'm only good for speed – running to a point where I can bypass even the fastest creatures. We should just admit defeat and head back."

Curious to unravel the mystery, Void edged closer to the scene and stood beside Octavius, his eyes fixed on the box.

 "Now you show up," Octavius remarked, acknowledging his presence without bothering to look at him.

[The view from the ladies behind was quite entertaining.]

Octavius flung his hand in Void's direction, but Void dodged the gesture with swift reflexes. As the others turned to look at him quizzically, Octavius pretended the motion was just a stretch, causally extending his arm.

"You have three minutes left," the mage announced. 

"How about we smash it?" someone suggested, grabbing the wooden box and frantically stomping on it. However, despite their efforts, the box remained unscathed, without even a scratch.

Octavius shot Void a glance. "Are you just going to stand there?" he asked, when no one was watching. "Just know that if I fail here and now, you'll never possess my body."

Void spoke up not acknowledging his threats. [The mage has set you up for failure. Even they can't open the box. It's no ordinary box – it's woven by a god.]"

Octavius look at Void strangely. He wanted to ask Void how he knew this, but time was running out. They had barely a minute left to figure out the box.

Just then, Marilyn's voice cut through the group's desperation. "I think I've figured it out!" she exclaimed. "These lines are like a maze, but they might seem irrelevant. I think they form a note."

"A note for what?" someone asked.

The mage's voice boomed through the air once more. "One minute left!"

The group's anxiety spiked, and one of them yelled frantically, "Just tell us how to undo the puzzle if you know how!"

Marilyn's hands hovered over the lines, and she began to hum a tentative melody. When nothing happened, one of the members dragged the box away from her and started shaking it violently, trying to coax it open.

The box was passed from person to person as each individual attempted to open it using their unique skills. When it finally reached someone in front of Octavius, he (Octavius) seized the opportunity to grab it. In the struggle, the box's edge grazed his skin, leaving a small cut that bled onto the box's surface.

Before Octavius could react, someone else tried to snatch the box from him, causing it to slip from his grasp and fall onto the damp soil. The box landed with a soft thud, its wooden surface now stained with the damp soil.

Just as the mage announced, "Time's up!" and began to walk towards them, a shimmering light erupted from the box, contrasting the mud surface, and leaving everyone stunned and silent.

A soft click echoed from the box, and the mage hastily grabbed it, only to discover that it was now open. However, to his utter dismay, he found that it was empty. Nothing lay inside.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group, oblivious to the box's empty contents, erupted into jubilation upon realizing that the box had been successfully opened.

With a mixture of genuine congratulations and veiled disappointment, the mage commended the group on their success before instructing them to join the others and await further instructions.

As they made their way towards the waiting group, the mage discreetly grasped Marilyn's arm and whispered urgently, "Go home, Lynn. Do it for your mother's sake, for your own good."

Marilyn's expression remained resolute, and with a subtle shrug, she freed her arm from the mage's grasp, rejoined her companions, and fell into step beside them.

The Mage nodded back his disappointment before he made his way inside the Academy gates with the box in hand. 

————————————-

The mage stepped inside the academy, acknowledging the murmured greetings from the few individuals he encountered along the way. He climbed the staircase, his footsteps echoing through the corridor, until he reached a door adorned with the inscription "Headmaster." He paused, rapping his knuckles against the door.

The door swung open, and Mage entered, closing it behind him.

 A voice, distracted and detached, asked, "Is it done, Emery?" The speaker remained focused on scribbling notes, not bothering to look up.

The Architect Mage named Emery, shook his head, but realizing the person couldn't see him, he responded aloud, "No, but I've come to report some important news."

The man's scribbling halted, and without lifting his gaze, he said, "I'm listening."

Emery took a deep breath before delivering the news. "The wooden box has been opened by some contestants."

Eriol's gaze snapped up, his eyes locking onto Emery with sudden intensity. "The same one we couldn't open? How did they do that?"

Emery recounted the events leading up to the box's opening, and Eriol listened intently.

When Emery finished, Eriol let out a thoughtful sigh and asked, "But you still haven't told me how they managed to open it."

Emery hesitated. "To be honest, I wasn't paying close attention. I didn't think they'd be able to succeed where we failed."

"And what was inside the box?"

Emery placed the box on the table, revealing its empty interior. Eriol's gaze lingered on the box as he said. "Increase the chances of not surviving the challenges. I'm curious to know how many would navigate their way out alive."

 Emery's eyes widened in alarm. "I was thinking we could reduce the difficulty level and select the top ten from the group that attempted the puzzle."

"Ah, I see. Because your daughter is part of that group? I take it you failed to dissuade her from participating?"

Emery swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in his throat.

Noticing his discomfort, Erior added. "We'll ensure she makes the top ten cut, don't worry."

"Close the door behind you," Eriol instructed, dismissing him and refocusing on his scribbles before Emery got the chance to persuade him.

With an unsettling feeling, Emery exited the room, the door creaking shut behind him.