Chapter 25: A Bone to Carry

Abel stood in the main hall, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he waited. The hall was dimly lit, its large arched windows casting faint beams of the early evening sun across the stone floor. Recruits were bustling around him, some heading out for their tasks, others chatting in small groups. His eyes roamed the room until something caught his attention—a group of people congregating around a young man.

This young man was hard to miss, not because of his appearance, but because of the strange bone sticking out of the leather bag on his back. The bone was massive, thick and bleached white, and it poked out from the bag like a strange banner above his head. It looked like the femur of some enormous creature, and with the short shovel hanging from his waist, Abel immediately pieced together who this must be.

Gravedigger.

The man had rough, angular facial features, his brown curly hair falling messily over his forehead. He looked weathered, his eyes focused, though there was an intensity to his posture that suggested this was no ordinary day for him. His robes, though worn and plain, were functional—designed more for practicality than aesthetics, unlike the more ornate attire worn by some of the recruits. Gravedigger wasn’t here to impress anyone with his appearance.

Abel approached cautiously, weaving through the clusters of recruits until he stood before Gravedigger. The other man’s sharp eyes met his, and without a hint of pleasantry, Gravedigger nodded solemnly. It was clear this wasn’t a day for idle chatter; it was a day that could change his life.

"You're here for the task?" Gravedigger asked, his voice low and steady, though tinged with the pressure of what was to come.

Abel nodded. "I am."

Gravedigger looked around at the small group that had gathered—six of them in total. Abel recognized a few faces from his classes, though no one he was particularly close to. The air between them was thick with anticipation, the gravity of the situation palpable. It wasn’t often that someone stood on the cusp of breaking through to Apostle, and even rarer that recruits were invited to witness such an event.

"Good," Gravedigger said after a moment. "Since everyone’s here, we can head out."

He cleared his throat and began explaining the task. “I’m heading toward the northwest, just within the inner perimeter, to a clearing I’ve scouted. That’s where I’ll be conducting the ritual. Your job is simple—watch my back. Ensure nothing and no one interrupts the process, be it creatures or… anyone with ill intentions.”

Gravedigger’s words hung in the air for a moment. Abel noticed the others shifting uneasily at the mention of “ill intentions.” It was a known fact that some within the Tower sought to sabotage breakthroughs out of jealousy or personal gain. Even the inner perimeter, typically considered safer, wasn’t without its dangers.

The group gave nods of understanding, their expressions serious. Abel’s eyes briefly met Gravedigger’s again before the man turned and motioned for them to follow. They moved out of the Tower as the sun began to dip lower in the sky.

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As they stepped beyond the protective walls of the Tower, the atmosphere changed. The comforting warmth of the Tower's light was quickly replaced by the eerie twilight of the Stone Forest. The statues along the path glowed faintly, their pale light casting long shadows on the forest floor, but it wasn’t enough to dispel the creeping darkness that slowly swallowed the woods.

The forest here was unnervingly still. The trees stood tall and rigid, their trunks covered in thick, twisted vines that seemed to writhe in the fading light. Every now and then, Abel caught glimpses of movement in his peripheral vision—small, darting shadows that vanished before he could fully register them. The air was heavy and cold, carrying with it a sense of foreboding that wrapped around the group like a shroud.

The wind howled softly, whispering through the dense canopy above, carrying with it the strange sounds of the forest. Low creaks, distant rustlings, and the occasional unnatural screech that made the hair on the back of Abel’s neck stand on end. Even the trees themselves seemed to sigh as if alive, their leaves trembling as though something unseen moved through them.

Abel kept his eyes peeled, the path ahead of him obscured by the growing darkness. The statues became fewer and farther between, and the pale glow they emitted grew weaker. With each step, the Tower felt more and more distant, its protective influence waning. He glanced around at the others, noticing their unease as well. Gravedigger remained focused, his pace steady, the large bone on his back swaying slightly with each step.

They walked for what felt like an eternity through the creeping gloom until finally, the forest opened up into a small clearing. The last light of the setting sun bathed the area in a soft, crimson hue, casting long, jagged shadows that made the trees look more like twisted, skeletal figures than simple plants.

“We’re here,” Gravedigger announced, his voice breaking the tense silence.

The group spread out around the clearing, keeping a wide perimeter as Gravedigger began to set up for the ritual. He unhooked the shovel from his waist and placed it on the ground next to the massive bone he carried. With careful precision, he began drawing a series of intricate symbols in the dirt, each line deliberate and purposeful.

Abel’s heart raced as he scanned the surrounding forest. The light was quickly fading, and darkness crept in from all sides. The air had grown colder, and the strange noises of the forest had become more pronounced—closer, even. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig seemed amplified, as though something was lurking just beyond the trees, waiting.

Gravedigger worked in silence, the scraping sound of his shovel against the earth the only steady noise. Abel caught the occasional glance from the others, their eyes wide and alert. No one spoke, their collective anxiety building as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, and the clearing was swallowed by darkness.

The only light now came from the faintly glowing statues in the distance and the soft luminescence of the symbols Gravedigger had carved into the ground. The clearing itself seemed to hum with energy, an almost imperceptible vibration that Abel could feel in his bones.

Gravedigger wiped the sweat from his brow and stood up, his breath visible in the cold night air. "It’s time," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Stay sharp. Watch my back."

He knelt by the large bone and placed both hands on it, his eyes closed in concentration. The ground beneath him seemed to pulse in response, the symbols glowing brighter as the ritual began.

Abel’s heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the darkness surrounding them, his grip tightening on the hilt of his dagger. The wind had died completely, leaving the clearing in a suffocating silence. The only sound was the soft murmur of Gravedigger’s voice as he chanted, calling upon whatever forces would guide him through this breakthrough.

The forest around them felt alive, watching, waiting.

And somewhere, in the far distance, a faint, guttural growl echoed through the trees.