The morning dawned in hues of reds, oranges, and yellows. The sun made the clouds floating above Elyar turn into a tapestry painted by Theos himself. Rays of light shone past the trees and the few clouds forming spears of gold illuminating wherever they landed. One particularly golden spear smote where Elyar sat. The ground was frozen and cold, but Elyar didn’t care. He sat cross legged staring out over his home. The Feud had been his families for generations, and until yesterday, he had been proud of his home and Korax. Now he wasn’t sure.
Rings circled under Elyar’s bloodshot eyes. After yesterday’s revelation, Elyar had wandered around the Feud for hours. Everything blurred around him. When people greeted him, he barely acknowledged them. At dinner, his family had tried to rouse him, but to no avail. Olive moved onto his lap and he barely noticed. Not that it stopped her from playing with her doll, having a good time. His head was with the ravens. If he was able to lay down and quiet his mind, scenes of golden swords or unknown figures sitting on thrones flashed before his eyes. That voice calling for him was always a whisper. He was continually tormented.
He closed his eyes as the sun warmed the world around him. For one moment he was not assaulted by any of his demons. He allowed the sun to warm him up and tranquility wash over him. He knew the time for his trial was quickly approaching. Soon the Great Hall would be abuzz with family, vassals, and priests from the local temple. He knew the order of the trial, but he did not know what he would be doing exactly.
With a deep breathe Elyar stood up, exhaled, and began walking toward the great doors. His legs didn’t carry him as fast as they used to. He opened the right door and squeezed through. His family was awake and food was already on the table. Elyar greeted his family with a quiet wave before he sat down in front of a plate of steaming food. He quickly ate his breakfast and headed for his room to change for the trials.
“Elyar,” called a voice from the other side of the room. Elyar glanced over to see his father walking over toward him. “I want to say something before You head to the trial.”
Elyar stopped and stood waiting for his father to reach him. He loved his father, but he wasn’t in the mood for a pre-trial lecture. All he wanted was to finish and finally be free of it.
“I don’t want to keep you long, but said some words of wisdom to each of your brothers before their trial, and I won’t miss yours.” Edaam looked at Elyar, placed his large right hand on Elyar’s right shoulder, and took a quick breath before saying, “always remember, son of mine, that you are loved. No matter how you fair in this trial, whether you succeed spectacularly, barely pass, or fail, you are loved. I believe that you will do well. But things can always happen that are out of our control. And when everything goes sour, Theos will be there.” Edaam looked Elyar in the eys, but he averted and stared at the ground. After a few moments of silence Edaam hugged his son and walked off humming.
Entering his room, Elyar donned his sparring clothes and armor, str apped his sword to his hip, took a deep breath, and left. The day had come.
“We stand here today to try Elyar Edaamson, so he may enter manh-
ood and join his father and brothers in defense of family, fisc, and empire!” Shouted a brown robbed priest standing on an elevated platform before a crowd of people gathered to watch his trial. The day had turned warm with a slight breeze from the south bringing warmer air. He knew that spring was near. There were still clouds in the sky, but they never blocked the bright sun. Elyar stood on the platform near the speaker waiting for his part to start. As he scanned the crowd while the man dronned on about the empire and the duties of a knight Elyar noticed a coin pass between two men while a third wrote something down in a bl ack ledger. Were they betting? Elyar thought.
His family sat on a raised dias with his father sitting in the middle on a finely carved chair. Scenes of jousting, wresting, and hand to hand combat adorned the sides. Eva sat next to him with her children sitting in order of birth to her side. On Edaam’s other side sat a bald, black robbed man with a somber look that Elyar had never seen. He must be the temple’s representation. Thought Elyar.
“Now the time has come!” Yelled the orator bringing his sermon to its conclusion, “for today’s events to begin!” He turned to Elyar, paused for a second, and then continued, “Elyar…you will first perform an obstacle course and then fight a RTD. When that is completed, you will be given an hour before the next task. You will be told what to do at that time!”
Elyar nodded his head in understanding. He knew how this went. But that didn’t drive the butterflies out of his stomach. Instinctively he flexed his muscles and pulled his sword in and out of its scabbord. The nerves were setting in and he was already exhausted.
He was led to the beginning of the course. It had been built over the last few days by the temple workers. Guards had been placed near it so that no one could garner its secretes. Standing in front of the entrance Elyar got a good view. A hedge like structure made of wood had been built about a mile from the Great Hall. It was nearly ten feet tall and could have easily been two hundred feet long by fifty feet wide. He could now see twists and turns with lots of things that he would need to dodge. It was supposed to simulate a battlefield. Elyar wished he was on a real battlefield.
Might be easier than this, he chuckled to himself.
He had to wait in front of a wooden gate with a pully. A man stood nearby holding a rope Elyar assumed attached to the gate. The crowd had shifted to stand close enought to see him enter. A line had been made to stop people from crowding him. Guards were also placed along the time in case someone wanted to become a nuscence.
Elyar glanced up at his parents. He father gave him a nod of assurance while his mother smiled. Elyar could see that they were nervous. No one in Elyar’s family knew what to expect. Neither could they watch him perform once he was inside. Rarely did someone get hurt, but it did happen. Some undergoing the trial died. It was not a task to take lightly and Elyar knew it. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. It didn’t help.
“Begin!” Shouted the brown robed priest. The gate shot up and Elyar ran into the course. Shadows came over him as he entered the wooden structure. Suddenly a wooden door slammed behind him. He was trapped. The only way out was forward.
Elyar was not ready to rush into anything. He stood at the closed entrance for a moment taking in some breathes. After a minute he gathered his courage and started walking on. Within the first dozen feet he began hearing a whiring sound. Like something was rotating quickly. He rounded the first corner and was nearly smacked in the chest by a wooden pole spinning. He jumped back and hit his elbow on the corner. Rubbing his elbow he studied how to get around his first obstacle. Can I crawl under it? He decided that was his best bet. It was low enough that he would have to crawl with his face nearly in the dirt. But that was his only choice.
He got on all fours and then layed perfectly on his stomach. Using his elbows and knees he crawled with his bellow never leaving the dirt. Once his head went under the spinning contraption he could hear the wind whistling. It did not help his nerves. Slowly but surly he made his way until he was half way through. While trying to take his next movement though, Elyar’s other elbow got smacked hard by a pole. He grimmiced, held his breath for a second, and blink away the tear that had formed in his eyes. He kept moving and was eventually far enough on the otherside that he could stand up and inspect his elbow.
He rolled up his sleeve and saw a nice black bruise. That’s going to hurt for a few days. After rolling his sleeve back down Elyar started walking along the corridor. He soon met his next obsticle. A series of handles alternating over a deep pit. Deep enough to trap him, but not deep enough to kill him…he hoped. He jumped in place for a moment sizing up the challange. It was about twenty feet long and each handle was just far enough away that he was going to have to swing pretty hard each time.
He lept. His right hand grabbed the first ring while his left reached for the second. Reaching as far as he could he grabbed it firmly in his hand. He let go of the handle his right hand was holding and swung with what he thought would be enough strength to reach the next. His judgement was correct, but he realized he was definitely going to be tired by time he was near the end of this challenge. Quickly he swung from handle to handle trying not to linger longer than he had to.
At the fifteen foot mark his worst fear happened. He was reaching out for a handle when his fingers slipped and he was left holding on with one hand. His arms were starting to shake and his grip was loosening. Quickly, he swapped hands and started to swing. After three motions he had enough momentum to reach again. Success. He finished the last few feet without any more mishaps. But he had nearly failed on the second obstacle. His initial butterflies were gone, but they were replaced with sore muscles and a fear that he wouldn’t make it. Where his brother’s challenges this hard?
He kept walking slowly moving farther into the wooden beast. There was no where else to go. Tired, already sore, and feeling alone, Elyar nervously walked until he met the next challenge. This one wasn’t as bad. It was a scalling wall. He quickly jumped up and pulled himself over. Some of his confidence came back.
Maybe they wouldn’t all be as hard as the first.
The next twenty minutes passed as Elyar met and completed challenge after challenge. He thought he was close to the end when suddenly the ground started to rumble. He put his hand on the wall next to him, but slipped. He looked at the wall after he regained his footing and noti ced that it was slowly receeding into the ground.
What kind of sorcery is this? He thought to himself as the walls almost completely disappeared.
He looked around his new surroundings and noticed that a short walkway which led to a circular field with a wooden RTD in the middle. The crowd had moved from the beginning of the course and had encircled the last part of the physical trial. He took a few steps forward and the machine whired to life. Its head rotated in a complete circle while its arms raised to become parallel with the ground before moving as far as their reach would go to back toward its shoulders. After a few minutes of this the head stopped with two red eyes staring at Elyar. He had practiced against a RTD multiple times, but the eyes now reminded him of his dream. The embers glaring back at him suddenly flashed before his eyes and a shiver passed through his spin. He entered the circle and drew his sword.
The RTD snapped into fighting mode. Shield up, sword raised. It slowly glided in his direction. Since when can they move? Elyar held his sword in both hands and started to circle with dummy. The crowed was silent. Only the crunching of Elyar’s boots on the gravel could be heard. The RTD quickened its speed and swung its sword at Elyar. He blocked it easily and swung for a right uppercut. It quickly swung its shield to block his swing. Spinning, it tried to strike Elyar’s right side, but he was able to jump back. Breathing heavily, Elyar regained his footing and began a complex strike combo. He began with an arc to the right shoulder, then a swing to the left side, spinning into a jab at the center chest. The RTD successfully parried the first strike, barely blocked the next with its shield, but left itself open for the jab. Contact.
Panting. Sweat pouring down his face, loose hair plastered to his forehead, Elyar felt the satisfying clunk as the tip of his sword met the center of the RTD’s chest. Victory.
The crowd roared! Elyar hadn’t noticed until then, but the tension while he fought could have been cut with a knife. He looked around a saw people jumping, clapping, hugging each other, and a overwhelming sense of excitement. His mother was beaming from ear to ear. Even from this distance Elyar could see that she was or had been crying. His father was clapping ferociously. The black robbed man clapped unenthusiastically. He nodded his head toward Elyar when their eyes met and a small shiver went down Elyar’s back.
Suddenly his left arm was lifted toward the sky as the brown robbed priest hailed his first trial over. He would have two hours to rest, eat, and prepare for the next trial.
The next two hours went by in a blur. He was rushed into a tent set up near by for his family. The tent was white with poles and rope holding it up. The sides were anchored to the ground, but that did not stop the breeze from flapping them a little. Inside the tent stood a table similar to the one in the Great Hall. But this one was smaller. When Elyar entered there was already some hussle and bussle going on. The cook and his usual retinue of helpers were busy serving steamed vegetables and some drinking wine.
Elyar quickly ate before he was ushered and then spent the rest of his time relaxing and enjoying his victory with his family. The day was not over, but he had performed well. A smile slowly spread over Elyar’s face.
When his time was up a man entered the front flap and announced that the second trial was ready. A quick butterfly flew through Elyar’s stomach, but no wear near as bad as that morning. He stood up, stretched a little, and followed the man. The rest of his family would follow soon after. As he stepped out of the tent, he saw that the original obsticle course had been removed. The dirt field was now completely encircled with people expectancly waiting. Elyar was confused why the crowd seemed bigger. The physical trial had moments of excitment, but the mental trial did not. Are people that starved for entertainment? Elyar thought as he approached the circle. A path had been prepared for him to walk and there was only the announcer standing there.
Once everyone was in place the announcer yelled, “We have now come to trial number two! Elyar has bested our Robotic Training Dummy fabulously, but now he must undergo a trial of the mind! Set before you all is a simple sword. Elyar must etche into it three simple runes. This will prove his calligromancy skills. If he succeeds, the sword will weave these three runes into a permanent spell that will last as long as the weapon does.”
Elyar looked at where the announcer was pointing and saw a sheathed sword resting on a table in the middle of the field. There were some blacksmithing tools on top of a letter as well. Once the announcer was finished speaker a hush fell on the crowd. Elyar tapped his leg while he waited. Why were there so many people watching him due such a silly task?
“You may begin,” said the brown robbed man as he opened the gate. Now Elyar noticed a wooden fence had been holding the crowd back. He couldn’t remember if it had been there during his dual. Stepping through Elyar walked over and stood at the table. The crowd, which had been talking and jostling during the speech now fell silent. Elyar looked at the sword and reached for the note.
He read, “Here be the three spells performed: unbreakable, sharpen, and conflagration.” Elyar’s heart sank a little when he read the last one. That one was going to be tough. Knowing he had no choice but to continue, he grabbed a loose piece of paper and the pen next to it and wrote the runes out a few times. He wrote the first rune until he felt the magic leave his hand while the paper shimmered soft rainbow. He did so with the next rune as well.
Two down, one to go. Elyar thought. Now for the hard one. He had to study the last rune for a moment. The difference between making something permanently sharp and making it become engulfed in flames on command were fundamental. Elyar had never performed such a feat. Nor had he known anyone who could. He breathed in and started writing.
The entire time the crowd had remained quiet. A small murmur of excitement leaked out when he demonstrated his mastery of the first two runes. But as time went on small, quiet voices could be heard popping up here and there. Elyar was spending a lot more time on the last rune and he could tell people were whispering about it. He eventually decided just to forgo what he was doing and begin carving.
He grabbed the chisel and hammer and began tapping out the first rune. Slowly, the words for Ó Ó began to form. While carving he not only moved his hands, but also pushed his being into the forms.
A glisten appeared on his skin as he worked. Melding mind and body into one force slowly sapped the strength Elyar still had. As his hand stuck the last letter a shimmer spread from the chisel through the rest of the blade. One down.
He moved up the blade and began working on the next rune. Just like before, the word slowly took shape. This was the same rune Elyar had been working on with the scribe the other day. Though Elyar finished faster than the first that hadn’t stopped the light glisten on his skin to turn into dripping sweat. By this point the sun was passing its zenith and the heat of the day had begun. Another shimmer passed over the blade. A sigh passed through the crowd. Now time for the worst one.
Elyar stood straight with his hand pressed on his back. He had been hunched over the table for nearly an hour. His back was getting tired, he was covered in sweat, and his mouth was getting dry. He chuckled to himself as he thought that this trial felt harder than the last. He conclu ded it was the eyes boring into him.
He continued up the blade as he began the last rune. The word slowly formed just like the other two. He continued channaling his being into the word. Tap, tap tap. Besides the sound of his work the crowd had gone deathly silent again. No one wanted to break his consentration and be the reason he failed. Tap, tap tap. He slowly continued carving into the steel. One letter at a time until he finally reached the last letter. Tap, tap…tap. He was done. He had finished the last word and now he held his breath. But nothing happened. No shimmer spread across the blade. Before he knew it he quickly glanced up at where his family sat. Eva had her hands clasped around Lord Edaam’s arm while he sat on the edge of his seat. A mixed face of encouragement and anxiety. But it was the man sitting next to them that suddenly drew Elyar’s gaze. He sat back with a look of disinterest. But he couldn’t hide the intense stair of his nearly black brown eyes. They could not hide his interest.
Now more nervous than before, Elyar took a deep breathe in to steel his nerves. He lifted the sword to look down the blade. Maybe he could see if he had done something wrong. He held his breathe in for a second, closed his eyes, and then slowly breathed out. A wave of sound passed through the crowd. Elyar opened his eyes to see what had happened. That is when he noticed the ripple along the blade. Unlike the last two times, there was no rainbow color to the ripple. This time it was red.
Blazing red.
Elyar had been holding the sword by the hilt with his left hand and the blade with his right. He let go with is right hand and grabbed the sword with both hands. The rippling had stopped and the sword stood still in his hands. He brought the blade up to his face and starting with the hilt he let out a small amount of air along its length. As he breathed on the blade cracks of what looked like fire crept up the blade. The sword became a mix of hardened and molten steel. He could feel heat coming from it, but it wasn’t unbearable. Not knowing what to do, he brandished the sword, lifted it over his head, and smote the table in two. A burt of heat and flames urupted before quickly dying down. The crowd lost its mind.
Elyar looked up and saw his parents holding each other with more tears racing down their faces. But Elyar was more interested in black robes. But he was gone. The announcer rushed up to Elyar and excitedly announced that he had completed the second trial. Leaning in into
Elyar’s ear he asked, “can you turn that thing off?”
Glancing at the blade in his hand still burning hot Elyar looked back at the man and shrugged. He brought it up as close to his mouth as he dared and breathed on it agian. Just as it had begun, the blade’s heat faded and turned back into a normal blade.
Waving his arms, the announcer quieted the crowd. “Thank you for coming to the trial today! Elyar has succeed in completing his first two trials! His third, and last trial will be conducted this evening alone! You may find out the results tomorrow if you wish!” With that the crowd slowly dispursed. Elyar was left alone with his family and the few priests who were serving the trial.
“You may rest until dusk,” the announcer said to Elyar. “But once dusk begins you need to meet at the temple in Dasos. There you will complete the final task.” Elyar breathed a sigh of relief. The Spiritual trial should be the easiest. Before he could think about what lay ahead, his brothers tackled him yelling how excited they were at his performance that day. Together they all walked toward the Great Hall.