Valerie felt queasy and struggled to stay standing on her feet. Despite the litres of blood she lost over the course of her short adventuring career it was the sight of the comically large syringe filled with her life fluid that almost caused the huntress to faint. Smitty added the last ingredient to a separate container and quenched the once more red-hot knife allowing the blood to boil and become one with the blade. When all was said and done Valerie’s hunting knife was not just repaired it was fundamentally altered while retaining an echo of its former self, enough that the huntress could still connect to it through her aspect and utilize the internal magic. Placing the finished knife onto a silk pillow, Smitty presented his work of art for Valerie and Samantha to behold. The crimson blade measured eight inches from tip to hilt with the handle adding another four to the total length. The edge was sharpened to such a fine point that it looked capable of cutting through solid steel with enough force. The back was serrated with enough spikes to make the toughest of saws envious. The original handle was discarded due to its battered form and replaced with a new varnished wood wrapped in strong leather straps and featured grooves that perfectly fit Valerie’s hand.
The huntress stared reverently at the shiny new knife but there was also a feeling of disappointment creeping into the back of her mind. All that effort and pain for her class and it was just a fancy new knife, not exactly the grand graduation she expected. That was until she picked up the weapon. Lightning coursed through her veins, completely eliminating the queasiness she felt earlier and electrifying her nerves. Her mind blacked out and she saw flashes of images, hunters and monsters locked in a battle of prey versus predator their roles constantly shifting. She saw visions of men obsessively chasing a creature that simply didn’t exist, of women mourning the loss of their husbands and sons before picking up a weapon and completing the hunt. She saw animals and monsters in their natural habitats as young cubs forced to mature and adapt becoming the apex of their food chain only to be struck down by a younger generation just like them. Her mind rocked with the onslaught of images, sounds and smells that overtook her senses until finally it ended, and she felt the change.
“Wow…”
She let out exasperated from the experience and nearly falling to the floor. To Smitty and Samantha it had only been a second but for Valerie she felt as if she had lived a hundred lives, survived a thousand hunts and perished from infinitely more. She felt the marks the flood of visions left on her soul and then something fill in the cracks. She was born anew and couldn’t stop herself from announcing it.
“I am the Trophy Hunter.”
A smile teased at the edges of her lips as she practiced swinging the scarlet knife. Her two aspects were permanently married into a union far greater than the sum of their parts and the result was her knew title. Just as someone was completely assured of the aspect they received; Valerie became aware of the class she had worked for and could feel the changes it made to her entire being. Her muscles bulged from the overflow of power and she could sense the normally imperceptible trickle of mana flowing through her body and into the knife. Everything about her had been enhanced to a whole new level and she felt she could take on the world. The thought quickly brought her back down as she cooled her desire for excitement and monster killing, however the yearning did not cease or rather it would be more accurate to say she had a new mouth to feed. She somehow could feel a desperate hunger for blood coming from her knife, it wasn’t as if it would starve but the need to be satiated was all it wanted and spurred the huntress to fulfil this wish as soon as possible. It was curious to have the literal manifestation of her mental anguish resting in her palm and also empowering to know she could resist the urge.
“Thank you Smitty, it’s… beautiful.”
She honestly admitted, bowing to the master craftsman while he worked to smother the fires of his furnace.
“You’re welcome. While you may be a rough and troublesome girl that weapon of yours has formed a connection to you so palpable it would be cruel to separate you. Don’t lose it and be sure to take proper care of it.”
Valerie listened attentively while not so subtly cradling the sharp tool. She ran her fingers along the edge yet no matter what the blade refused to cut into her skin.
“Bit rude to call them an it isn’t it?”
Samantha cut in, surprising Valerie who was lost completely in the knifes reflective surface. She was surprisingly correct, Valerie’s knife was no longer an ‘it’ they were an entity, not living or with any form of consciousness but like the monsters she fought and the tiger she slew it had a will and instincts.
“Hey Smitty, would it be alright to have an engraving added?”
The gnome thought on the proposal, shrugged and walked over to his workbench waving for Valerie to follow. After quickly and efficiently marking the blade, Smitty handed it back to the huntress who held it up to the light, catching herself and the deceased tiger in the reflection.
“Tiger’s Will.”
She whispered confirming her knifes name and feeling she had truly become the Trophy Hunter. Whenever she looked at this blade or the many scars marring her skin she would remember her greatest fall and work every day to rise back up until she surpassed the person she was. Samantha applauded the name of Valerie’s blade unaware of the resolve it instilled in her friend.
“Okay, my turn!”
She said happily and excited to see what kind of shenanigans she would have to endure to obtain her class. Smitty stood atop his workbench while dawning a fancy looking pair of goggles and forcibly coughed to draw both sets of eyes towards him.
“Quite right, let’s move on to the real highlight. Miss Trapper, if you would be so kind as to summon forth the true form of your chain?”
Samantha did so, focusing her breathing and picturing the rusty chain from the temple she was able to force the metal links to coil out of her shadow and pile onto the floor. While out hunting and waiting for Valerie to recover, Samantha had worked to summon the true chain diligently eventually being able to conjure them on command though at considerable mental effort. Those links simply did not want to be exposed. Smitty grabbed the last link in the chain and locked into place on a low hook attached to the back wall. He then directed Samantha to stand some ways away with the chain wrapped around her arm and pulled as tight as she could. Valerie was not to interfere and just watch, the only help she could offer would be to turn off the lights and Smitty already had a workaround. Clapping his small hands the room suddenly fell into darkness. Through the dim, Samantha could plainly make out the gnome wheeling a large and adjustable anvil under her chain. Locking the chunk of steel in place, he climbed atop it while holding in his right hand an obsidian hammer so dark even Samantha’s enhanced sight almost couldn’t see it. Raising his tool high he struck down causing sparks to fly from the chain and anvil alike. He then repeated the action again and again working at the old chain which did not morph or bend from the repeated impacts. In fact, nothing appeared to be happening.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Hey Mister Smitty, is there anything supposed to be added to, I don’t know, make it more mystical?”
Samantha asked unsure exactly what hitting her chains a bunch would do. Smitty ceased hammering to look at the girl before explaining his actions as gently as the annoyed gnome could.
“Well, you see Miss Trapper I am attempting to infuse the base chain with darkness or more accurately shadows. Over the past two weeks I have researched every known case of shadow classes and how they were crafted. While circumstances may vary, the common factor is a total absence of light. Now please do leave me to my work.”
The craftsman really did not have a lot of evidence to go on, a grievance Albert knew all too well. Similarly, the lack of concrete information proved to excite the gnomes creative mind further which was why he not only improvised the shadow users class forging but also Valerie’s own upgrade using an old technique he designed but never got the chance to use. The end results for the huntress were good thus Smitty was convinced he could work his magic once again for Samantha. Unfortunately manipulating the internal magic within her chain was difficult not just because she only had it for a few months but because she didn’t use the physical chain itself. Her mystical tethers were a copy and did not carry the same weight the original did and as such couldn’t be worked or altered. What he was doing was essentially tricking the chain into a trance or hypnotic state using repeated rhythmic vibrations with the end goal to bind it closer to Samantha. There was an issue however, the chain had something tied to it altering the internal magic and defining it like an irrefutable promise. It was most likely whatever stipulation came with the temple born object although Smitty never enquired what exactly the downside was. He would simply grind it out and replace it with something more amenable, but it was proving challenging.
The expert craftsman continued his hammering, he struck the chain over and over, barely a second between hits, with sparks constantly flying. Samantha was unaware of the important work being done to her chain and could only agonize over her current position. Stuck standing in an awkward pose while holding onto the links with all her pitiful might. She really should have picked a better angle as her current posture was a tad inconvenient which, depending how long this process took, could become torturous. She envied Valerie who silently sat in a corner twirling Tiger’s Will and getting a feel for the weight of her knife like it was the first day she grasped it all over again. After the first hour of hammering, Samantha was on the verge of calling it quits for getting a class entirely especially after she caught Valerie taking a nap. Although it may be accurate to say she was sleeping off the blood loss as well as the rush to her system from her class. Samantha tried to grin and bear it, but this was simply too boring and that hammering was gnawing at her mind making her unable to focus. Just as she was about to voice her frustrations and loosen her grip she received her own vision.
It was not a dream of the future or her death once again, instead it was akin to the sights and scenes Valerie briefly described having. The difference was Samantha saw nothing. Well not nothing, to be more accurate she saw the absence of anything, no matter, anti-matter, scenes of other shadow users or anything at all. Pure blackness filled her vision to the point she thought she might have gone blind. It did little to help her boredom, but it was somewhat nostalgic. The lack of anything reminded her of her time in that isolated cave where she first saw her prophetic vision and achieved the aspect of shadow. It was not fun at the time but looking back she could only think fondly on how she transformed from a girl who feared captivity and dying a meaningless death to someone incapable of feeling fear and with a final moment that was worthy of being captured in brilliant illustrations. She still wanted that painters help and knew she needed to gather the funds quickly or else her death would come long before she could hang a copy up on the wall. First however, she needed to get this class thing over with and boy was it taking forever. How long had it been now? Two hours? Two days? Two years?! Okay maybe not that long but it felt like it. Maybe this is what Albert was talking about during that time about the thing and the other… thing.
“My precipitation.”
Samantha whispered, incorrectly remembering the word. Here she was, stuck unable to move and in complete sensory deprivation with just her thoughts to keep her company. Is this how she viewed her shadow and chain aspect? As a box or a cage? Perhaps a mine or maybe even…
“A prison?”
Was she still trapped in that dark cave? Did she ever truly leave or was Samantha stuck in that mine? Maybe that was her own truth, Samantha was already dead and whoever escaped was simply another person entirely. No, that wasn’t quite right. She was Samantha and she never escaped her confinement, her prison, the walls simply expanded. She viewed her vision of the future as a key to her salvation, that she was incapable of dying to anything else and thus had no reason to worry about her own mortality. It gave her freedom like no one else, but maybe that wasn’t right, maybe it just became another prison, and the only release was her death or parole so to speak. Then what did it mean to become a Deep Jailer? Was it the solution or part of the problem? Did it have to be either, both or none at all? Even as a jailer she was still part of the prison and couldn’t escape it, yet she was not beholden to it. As a jailer she made the rules, she chose who was locked away and why couldn’t that include herself? She could be the lock and key and be neither at the same time, the inmate and the guard, the judge and jury, the convict and parolee. She was herself, she was Samantha Trapper, a name she was given and another she chose.
“The prison is me, and I am the jailer.”
She was her own cage but she was also whatever she wished to be. She may be locked into a pre-ordained death but that didn’t mean she had to play by the rules. She could end it all right here and now, completely derail whatever plan the divine had for her and take control for herself once and for all.
“Or maybe not.”
Suicide was always an option just not one she would willingly take unless she had an alternative. Or if it would be a great punch line to a joke. Like if she was ever at a fine dining establishment and the waiter asked how she liked her meal she could do it then. Thoughts of a morbid end aside, if she was supposed to be a Jailer and everything was a prison then did that make everyone else a prisoner as well? As the Deep Jailer she could possibly free herself and everyone else but how though? She was locked up for life, and what a short life that would be, it’s not like she could take everyone with her on her way out of the prion.
“Hm, well why not?”
For the longest time she believed her vision was of her death alone, caught up in the midst of a fight she couldn’t win but what if there was an alternative? What if it actually showed the end of the world brought about by Samantha? If she was the jailer what was to stop her from opening the doors and setting everyone free alongside her? Or better yet why not just set the prison on fire while everyone was still inside? No one would remember her anyway, but they would remember what she did and if the end came no matter what she might as well make it a grand finale like no other. As her newfound purpose was cemented within her soul, the corners of her sight began to clear, and the room was visible once again to see Smitty continuing to hammer away at the chain. Samantha knew his efforts were no longer required now that she achieved her class but who says the jailer couldn’t abuse her position a little?
Six hours later, Smitty hefted his hammer for the last time, dropping it and watched as the head snapped off clattering to the floor uselessly. He cursed, adjusting his night vision goggles and feeling the accrued strain on his shoulder from over seven hours of continuous motion. He had to be sure however, that chain just didn’t seem to follow any form of logic and every time he thought it was improving it shifted back. Sometimes it looked solid then liquid, hard as stone and fragile as glass, it even warped into different forms of chains. Eventually it stopped giving off sparks altogether which worried the gnome, but he still persisted. That odd issue with the internal magic didn’t disappear but seemed to be reinforced becoming fundamental to the chain itself. He thought Samantha would pipe up to advise of any issues or if the class forging was successful, yet no call came thus he endured. It was unwise to turn the lights back on now, but Smitty needed a long break before he could continue. Clapping once he was gobsmacked to find not just Valerie, but Samantha too had fallen asleep, the former still on her feet but with drool leaking out of her mouth and onto the floor. What followed next would best be described as the longest, most high pitch, uninterrupted verbal tirade to ever occur in Capital City as Smitty tore into the sleeping pair rudely waking them up in the process. It ended with the two being nearly kicked out of Smitty’s Smiths and the gnome slamming the door in their faces. Valerie and Samantha stood in the middle of the road staring wide eyed after such a harrowing ordeal.
“What did he say?”
“I have no idea.”
Along the way they stopped being able to understand a single word of the gnomes anger due to his squeaky voice. It was debatable if dogs could even hear it as the gnome reached pitches never before attained by mortal kind. As the two were about to head off, Becky cracked the door open slightly flooding the streets with her bosses unhinged outbursts once again.
“Yo, come back again soon when he’s less upset. Said he wanted to discuss something with you two. Alright, peace.”
She ended holding up two fingers in a gesture neither adventurer recognised before closing the door. As silence returned to the street Samantha turned to Valerie.
“So… what do we do now? Should we go hunting and try out our classes?”
Valerie smiled and looked down at her friend. Clasping her on the shoulder she walked them down a well-travelled road towards the highest rated restaurant in the pairs admittedly shallow pool of options.
“No, Samantha. For once, let’s go get something to eat and take the day off.”