Tunde spent the entire night in the lotus position, cycling till he slept off upright, his breath as calm as he was when awake. The sound of footsteps coming from the corridor woke him up, eyes snapping open as he cycled Ethra into his limbs, imbuing them. He was on his feet as elder Joran appeared, glancing upwards towards the ceiling.
“Well, he’s on time” he murmured.
“Who?” Tunde asked.
Joran gave no reply, leaving him alone as he climbed up the stairs, tapping the wall close to the entrance as runes lit up, the stone door opening up to reveal the presence of artificer Borus. The forgesmith made his way down into the underground chambers, his large frame stepping down the stairs as he turned his metallic gaze at Tunde, his metal arm glowing with the runes written on its surface.
“Greetings, young cub,” he said.
Tunde bowed at the waist.
“I greet the forgesmith” he replied solemnly.
“Artificer Borus here has decided to honor us by personally delivering your weapon” Joran added.
A large wooden container was strapped to the artificer’s back, Borus unslinging it as he spoke.
“I wanted to the present when you bonded with the weapon” he started.
“It isn’t every day you get to see such a work of art bestowed on a lowly disciple” he finished.
Tunde gave no response, eyes locked on the case as artificer Borus became serious, opening the box from the three metal latches that held it together to reveal the beauty of a weapon unlike any other Tunde had ever seen before. Right in the middle of the training chamber, Tunde stood before Artificer Borus, the seasoned forgesmith, his eyes ablaze with the knowledge of the arcane, and cradled in his hands what Tunde honestly thought had to be the culmination of the artificer’s craft.
Borus, a figure draped in the wisdom of centuries, met Tunde's gaze with a knowing smile.
"Tunde," he spoke.
His voice was a resonant echo in the chamber’s depths.
"This is Shadowfang, and it is more than a weapon. It is a manifestation of arcane elegance and primal might, a tapestry woven with Ethereon, Ugue tree wood, the tier 3 rift core, and the bones of a shadow panther." Borus continued.
Tunde's fingers traced the Ethereon-infused shaft, feeling the subtle thrum of energy beneath his touch. Borus gestured toward the Ugue wood. "The Ugue tree," he explained, "imbues the axe with strength drawn from the roots of this primal world. Its essence sings to the untamed spirit of battle within you."
As Tunde absorbed the intricate design, Borus pointed to the shadow panther bones woven into the shaft.
"These bones," Borus continued.
"Bestow upon the axe a predatory grace. They grant it the ability to move like a shadow in the chaos of battle, ensuring its lightness when wielded".
Handing the axe to Tunde, Borus met his gaze with an intensity that bespoke the gravity of the moment.
"Now, listen closely, for this is not just a weapon, this pitch-black blade," he explained.
"Is forged from an alloy of Ethereon and arcane ores. It hungers for the taste of flesh and blood, cutting through armor and arcane defenses alike, you must learn to tame it".
Borus then motioned to the wolf's head at the summit of the axe.
"This wolf's head is more than an ornament. It is the guardian of the axe's essence and holds the rift core within its spatial space—a devourer of all manners of Ethra affinities alike. It will empower your strikes in the dance of war."
Tunde, entranced, listened as Borus continued.
"The inscriptions," he said, pointing to the undecipherable runes.
"Are the language of the rune readers. They pulse with the promise of battles to be witnessed and victories earned. They will be your guide in the symphony of combat."
Finally, Borus spoke of the axe's unique property.
"Shadowfang carries within itself a celestial resonance. With each strike, it gathers the rage within you. Terrible strength will resonate with it, becoming an extension of your will, a conduit for your Ethra affinity I’m told is a marvel that it will in time embody."
Tunde stared entranced into the black double-handed axe that felt light enough for him to wield with one hand, taking practice swings. It seemed to drink in what light was around him, the wolf’s head staring balefully at him as it gripped the large axe head firmly in its jaws. Tunde stared at the tattoo on his chest, and then back to the forgesmith.
“You knew,” he said.
Artificer Borus glanced down at the tattoo in fascination.
“a snarling wolf,” he said.
He turned to Joran who shrugged.
“I always have my ways” the elder replied.
“So I’m beginning to notice” Borus murmured back, sharing a look with Tunde.
He hadn’t forgotten the warning of the artificer, and more importantly, he hadn’t gotten the chance to talk with him in private, whatever the forgesmith knew, he kept tightly to his chest for now.
“The true beast is some sort of wolf, wasn’t it?’ Tunde murmured.
“you’ll have time for that later, I don’t” Borus replied.
“Cut your thumb with its blade and let it drink of your essence” the artificer commanded.
Tunde obeyed, slashing his thumb with the weapon.
“Shadowfang excels at drawing the Ethra of its user, turning its edge into pure lethal destruction” Borus continued.
Tunde felt something within him shift as he crashed to his knees, eyes wide as another presence within his mind sought to wrestle control of his body from him. A predatory mind snarled at him, slavering for control of his body as his aura began to leak out of him, smoky black power that threatened to overwhelm him again.
“Rein it in!” elder Joran commanded.
Tunde felt his sight going black, his mind receding as that malevolent existence pushed to the forefront. He glanced down at the axe gripped tightly in his palms, the axe holding on to him as much as he did as well, the battle one of the body as well as the mind. A growl came from his throat, coming from him and not the existence he knew to be Shadowfang, eyes on its black blade, he forced his body to respond to him, his willpower pressing down as he imagined Shadowfang to be what he expected it to be, a wolf made of blackest midnight.
He visualized himself facing Shadowfang, the blade snarling as it came at him, and Tunde unleashed his presence and aura. Elder Joran said rankers viewed him as a rabid beast, what was so wrong with that?. It kept potential enemies at bay, and he accepted it internally, he was a rabid beast, a rabid wolf, and Shadowfang was his arm, an extension of him, and a part of him couldn’t rebel.
The shift in mentality saw the axe’s presence recede within him to the depths of his consciousness, like a leashed beast in the face of its master. The axe drank in his aura, the eyes of the wolf head glowing a dull white before receding as well, the axe felt light in his hand, Tunde twirling it, ignorant of the presence of both artificer Borus and elder Joran, lost in the beauty and deadliness of the weapon.
“This should supplement your fighting style well enough, in case you require reach,” Borus said, drawing attention back to him.
Tunde felt his relic band quiver as he glanced at it, the relic sending black lines down his fingers and touching Shadowfang.
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“Interesting,” Borus said, eyes alight as he watched with fascination.
The black lines extended to the axe, Tunde watching as some interaction seemed to be going on between the relic and the axe, culminating in the lines disappearing into the shaft itself, the axe cool to his touch. He glanced up at elder Joran and Borus.
“I’m afraid I have no answers for what you just experienced,” the artificer said.
“This is a journey you’ll have to take on your own it seems” he completed.
“Sounds exciting,” elder Joran said with a chuckle.
Tunde bowed to the artificer.
“I am grateful” he started.
“And I intend to wield it well in battle” Tunde completed.
“That's all a forgesmith could wish for” Borus replied.
“Well, I’ll be taking my leave, two days left till your fate is decided,” Borus said with a smile.
Shadowfang grasped in his hand, he watched elder Joran escort artificer Borus out of the chambers, the door sealing behind him, cutting off what little sunlight Tunde had seen for the first time in two days. A sense of thrill came over him as he swung the axe experimentally, the weapon cutting through the air as easily as a leaf would, feeling truly like an extension of his body.
Familiarizing himself with its feel as he went through his usual steps, he caught himself pausing mid-swing lest he cut himself, the gleaming silver edges of the blade shimmering with his Ethra. Pausing, he turned his gaze upwards as the large stone barrier opened and elder Joran made his way down into the chambers, the stone closing up behind him.
“a fine weapon,” he said.
Tunde nodded, elder Joran gesturing for him to throw the weapon to him, Tunde did so, watching it fly through the air, the elder catching it with a grunt as he seemed to go down a bit.
“Rejects being wielded by another,” he said grunting.
Releasing the weapon, it slammed into the ground with a great shudder, cracking the ground beneath it as Tunde’s eyes bulged.
“What did artificer Borus do to the weapon?” Tunde asked.
“it’s a characteristic of soulbound weapons, some either weigh a ton once they’re bonded with their owners or gain one characteristic or the other” Elder Joran replied.
Picking the weapon that was as light as a stick to him, Tunde blinked, looking around.
“Where am I supposed to keep it?” Tunde asked.
“Leave it around till we can make an axe sheath for it I believe” elder Joran replied.
“Now, we proceed,” the elder said, pointing in the direction of the darkened tunnel.
“The trials,” Tunde said.
“indeed” Joran replied, walking towards the corridor.
Tunde took that as his cue to follow the elder as they delved into the darkness, Tunde’s Ethra sight activating, illuminating the entire area. The dim torches in the distance drew his attention, along with the large circular carving that stood as its doors. An image of a large humanoid beast carved into it as well, it held a large hammer raised above its head.
“Everything you’re about to go through now, realize Rhyn and Thalas have gone through, and excelled at it,” Elder Joran said.
“Although not beating the time record of the creator and owner of the training chambers for passing the trials themselves, nevertheless, they went far and above what was expected of disciples” Joran continued.
“How long did it take them?” Tunde asked softly, entranced by the carving on the entrance.
“don’t bother yourself with that, focus on surviving,” the elder said.
Tunde turned to him skeptically.
“Surviving?” he asked.
“Once you pass through this door, you’ll be completely on your own,” the elder said.
“Where have you been sleeping all through, elder?” Tunde asked.
The entrance looked like it hadn’t been disturbed, the coating of dust still sitting perfectly on its body.
“Right here” elder Joran replied, pointing at the stone bed Tunde hadn’t noticed at the far corner.
“The first trial, that of strength will test your raw power as well your mastery of imbuement, something I believe you should get through quickly” he started.
“The second will test your understanding of the second principle of Ethra use, projection”
“And the third will test your willpower when it comes to the third Ethra use, dominion” Elder Joran completed.
Tunde listened, eyeing the door itself.
“what’s behind that door?” he asked.
“a creature forged of Ethra and earth, a work of splendid workmanship made by artificer Iphan at the behest of the patriarch himself as a coming-of-age gift for his two children” Joran explained.
“He gifted his kids a set of chambers that could kill them as a coming-of-age gift?” Tunde said, surprise in his voice.
“he’s ruthless, the clan patriarch, he would never suffer weakness, not even in his bloodline” Elder Joran replied.
Tunde nodded, gripping Shadowfang tighter.
“Your fighting style will need to incorporate your axe, thankfully, crude weapons like axes have been known to be incorporated into melee fighting styles” Joran pointed out.
Tunde nodded.
“I will do so as soon as I can” he replied.
Elder Joran slapped his palm against the wall next to the door, the large circular carving of the midsection of the creature rotated, the grinding sound echoing around the entire underground.
“You have less than two days to complete this last phase, rest, and meet up with the duel that takes place at sunrise” Elder Joran ordered.
Now Tunde was genuinely curious how long it had taken both Rhyn and Thalas to actually complete the trials if he had been given two days, and he doubted the elder gave him extra time to be frank. Taking a deep breath, he passed through the entrance, the darkened room around him illuminating with his Ethra sight as he stopped in his tracks, staring down at the monstrous figure fused with the walls.
The grinding of the door behind him had him glancing back, elder Joran waving cheerfully at him.
“Try not to die,” the elder said before the door closed.
Torches sparked to life, lighting up accordingly, all the way down to the figure of rock, crystals, and what Tunde suspected were Ethereon metals. Sporting four hands, a blank face smoothened without human features, a thick muscular dark green body, and one hand holding a large hammer. A loud hum came from the creature as golden light glowed from within its chest cavity, the creature rousing to life. Tunde moved, imbuement burning through his body, pouring Ethra into Shadowfang as the axe shuddered as if in relish, the runic inscriptions on its body burning to life.
Feeling his Ethra being siphoned into the axe, it felt oddly like when the relic was consuming his Ethra, except this was in sips instead of the relic’s mouthful that always left him weakened. Body burning with power, he was in front of the creature in five steps, swinging Shadowfang with considerable strength. Somehow, the hammer that was nothing but a giant rectangular block of jade crystals and Ethereon matched his speed, clashing with Shadowfang as both weapons screamed against each other, the force of the giant’s blow blasting him backward.
He rolled through the air, coming to a stop as his legs dug into the ground, Ethra veins visible through his skin as his Ethra ran through him like lightning. The creature had been embedded in the wall a few seconds ago, and now it was standing, staring down at him with its smoothened face like it had been there the whole while. Tunde’s sight took in the potency of its power, its Ethra affinity not one Tunde was familiar with, but the fact that it bordered on early disciple rank and provided additional raw power for the creature was undisputed.
It took one step that covered a lot of ground, hammer swinging with all the force of its body as Tunde roared, resonance in its usual thick midnight cable wrapping around his hand before passing to the axe that hummed stronger, the power glowing within its frame. Both sides clashed, Tunde gritting his teeth as the raw strength of the creature threatened to overwhelm him, resonance crashing into the Ethra-imbued hammer that vibrated, no cracks evident on its body.
Releasing the attack, he assessed his body, the resonance had none no lasting harm to him, not with the strength he possessed, and he was up the arm of the creature, running towards its chest where another of its arms threatened to swat him like a fly. He was through its fingers, narrowly dodging the attack before going for its skull, power running through Shadowfang again as he allowed his aura to fuse with it, the baleful eyes of the axe wolf head glowing as if it came alive.
Tunde genuinely felt the difference in power this time, the axe burning with his Ethra, aura, and more as he got closer to its skull. Instincts warned him of the attack behind him, ducking and rolling out of the way nearly had him falling off the arm, but he swung Shadowfang, the axe biting deep into the arm of the creature before a terrible explosion tore off the jade and stone casing, revealing a damaged metal exoskeleton beneath it. He was flipping through the air, crashing to the ground in a heap before bouncing back to his feet.
The creature stared at its damaged arm before roaring without a mouth, the pressure of its presence beating down on Tunde as he let his aura cocoon him, allowing the mentality of the lethal beast to cloud his thoughts just a little before he shooting for the creature, imbuing Shadowfang before tossing it at the creature, willing the axe to unleash its power. The axe powered through the hands of the creature, blowing it apart before lodging itself within the chest cavity of the creature, right where the glowing Ethra came from.
“Feed,” Tunde said instinctively.
The axe shuddered, the wolf’s head glowing as the Ethra within the chest of the creature began to flow into Shadowfang, the creature grabbing the axe and pulling futilely. Tunde crashed into the distracted creature, resonance around his right hand as he punched the pommel of Shadowfang in deeper just to make sure, the creature screaming in rage. One hand managed to grab him, swinging him like a piece of rag and smashing him into the wall, his head ringing. Crashing to the ground in a fistful of cough, phase white from dust, he watched the creature remove Shadowfang, tossing the axe to the ground where it crashed with a great noise.
The creature turned its gaze to him, roaring as it prepared to crush him into paste with a fist as he rolled away while getting to his feet. Devoid of elixirs and food he had left behind, he faced the creature defiantly, rage in his eyes. Tunde’s aura floated around him like a lazy outline, Tunde staring at where Shadowfang lay, eyes flicking back to the creature that attacked.
He felt the alarm within his mind like a sharp call, Shadowfang flying through the air to his outstretched hand as Tunde swung immediately, mind rarely processing what had just happened, merely attempting to stay alive. The axe clashed with the hammer of the creature, except this time, Shadowfang was bursting at the seams, overflowing with raw Ethra and aura.
Its edges bore tiny inscriptions Tunde couldn’t even bother with during the heat of battle, but once it came in contact with the rock skin of the creature, it parted it like a knife through a leaf. The attack went on, shearing off a complete arm of the creature that stumbled backward, reeling from the loss of its second hand, Tunde’s punch catching it on its knee joint, resonance given freely to shatter the limb.
It crashed to a knee, Shadowfang twisting through the air before the axe sliced cleanly through its neck, Tunde stumbling as he felt the significant drain on his Ethra. It hadn’t been as bad as when he had been in the wastelands, but it was coming close to it, panting as he crashed to the ground, he watched in horror as the creature’s limbs regrew back, the creature lifting its head before placing it back on its stump.
Tunde was petrified, he could still fight, he could push himself to the limit of his body and that was still far away. Instead, the creature returned to its place in the wall, Tunde got to his feet as the door in the distance opened up slowly, he sat back down on the ground, sighing with relief. The battle had been short, but it had been heavy, the creature was strong but so was he, staring at the entrance even as he greeted with cycling, he squeezed his hand tight.
The first trial was done, and on to the next.