The ropes swayed amidst the creaking iron as the first years were slowly lowered into the Aenebra. The Boundless Dark. Slowly descending on a metal platform by ropes, pulleys and gears. Ryke was sure they’d be swaying out of control if there was more than an inch of space between it and the wall. The more nervous of the youth would stumble every time they hit the stone surface.
Half a year had fully passed since he first entered the Ludus, and the boy had changed immensely already. His lean frame grew taller, his golden eyes more vibrant and his brown hair cut rather short. The biggest difference could not be seen. The strength in every movement, the balance in every step. He was well into refining his lungs now, the final barrier until he could instead strengthen his senses.
Many of his fellow candidates had improved much the same as Ryke looked around the dark elevator shaft. Some grew into muscle, some got leaner. It was such a wide array of different kinds of fighters that he was honestly a little stunned by the sight. Ofrir looked like a proper warrior now, the air of a scholar replaced with the sharpness of a spear. Caius appeared immovable while Maximus felt unstoppable. Sol’s gaze seemed to cover everything in sight while Kievra and Darriwil’s changes were the least obvious, simply making him feel off when he looked at them.
One thing applied to them all though: nervousness. Weapons shaking slightly in their hands, arrows rattling in their quivers. Even Caius would constantly adjust the strap of his shield while his gaze drifted elsewhere. Ryke looked forward to the end of the platform where Sigmar and Gaeldir stood, along with a few other Instructors he couldn’t identify.
A shining blue light came over the group as the platform left the elevator shaft and entered a vast underground world. A soft purple stretched as far as the eyes could see, random splotches of grey and black in the shape of trees towering stories high above the ground. A strange navy blue liquid flowed about the place in a river. Ryke reckoned it must go on for miles, only ending at the strangely smooth marble walls that were littered with small holes like tunnels. The sight left him in awe.
Wind struck his chest hard, forcing him a couple steps back and into someone else. A warm liquid splattered across his face and clothes and the piercing howl that followed rang about in his ears. The taste of iron rolled down his lips while he struggled to keep his eyes open amidst the buffeting gale. Sigmr’s shouts echoed and a pair of arms wrapped around his waist before the boy felt his body become weightless.
He was falling.
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“What the fuck… that, Sigmar?!”
“Were attacked.. do something.. You buffoon”
Ryke groaned out, distant voices echoing briefly into his perception. His body felt like it was on fire, bruised and broken. Every slight movement seethed with pain, cooling only as his vitality coursed through his flesh like a tide. His surroundings were dark and the feeling under him was hard yet damp. It was the overwhelming stench of iron that brought him to his senses though. Blood. He tasted it. It wasn’t his, but..
The scream was cut short before it could leave his mouth, a gauntlet covering his face and shutting him up. He hadn’t noticed when Sigmar appeared beside him, but the older man appeared tense. The liquid splattered across the man's dull silver armour smelled of blood, but the blue colour of it denied its humanity.
“Shut up, keep quiet, follow me.” His instructor whispered as he was pulled to his feet, leading him out into the small clearing where a few others stood. He recognized Darriwil and Caius, but apart from the few he met in the Lecture Hall that day, he knew none of them. Gaeldir was also missing. He moved to wipe the cold metal of his armour and looked at the blood stained gauntlet that came from it. Sol was standing beside him when the platform went down.
His face paled and the boy felt like puking, but Sigmar’s stern gaze and the tired faces of the others convinced him otherwise, forcing the feeling back down inside and doing his best to keep his gaze bright. Ryke didn’t know for sure what happened, not yet. There was hope.
“He’s awake. We can get moving now.”
An eerie silence took over as the group packed up their meagre things, giving him the chance to finally ask Sigmar just what occurred. It all happened too fast, and even now it was a surreal experience when Ryke tried to think about it. The pain so bad it felt blinding certainly didn’t help him much. No amount of stoicism could prevent Sigmar from succumbing to his curiosity, though.
“What happened?”
“Mhm! What happened?”
“We were attacked.”
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“No shit.” Ryke grumbled, though his eyes widened and he quickly looked at the ground with a guilty conscience, avoiding the man’s glare as they pushed through the stone forest quietly. A few moments passed before his Instructor spoke up again.
“A javelin passed by you. The wind with it alone did most of the damage to your body, as well as the body that exploded next to you. Most of the bone bounced off your armour, but the flesh still bruised you good.”
“The body ..?”
“A bowman. Not sure who yet. Anyway-
The strike knocked most of the candidates off the platform, and most instructors grabbed their students to keep them alive, as well as any others they could protect. Some didn’t get lucky enough. As it is now, we need to regroup with the others at the Bastion.”
“Sir?” Ryke timidly raised his head again, doing his best not to look Sigmar in the eyes. “Who threw the javelin?”
“A devil.”
“Weren’t we lowering right into the Bastion?”
He got no response, but the silence itself was pretty telling. No one in their little survivor group seemed particularly upbeat or even happy to be alive. The few instructors in the group, a swordsman, bladesman and Sigmar himself all seemed rather worried, even if they didn’t say it out loud. Their heavy footsteps, albeit silent, betrayed the gravity of the situation.
Towering trees overhead, Ryke did his best to commit the environment to memory. The grass was soft below his feet and the trees seemed smooth and polished, the leaves reminding him of the Aurum Tree in their weird softness while being rock-like in nature. The rare few critters he could see would scramble about amidst the tall grass, while strange looking birds with sleek black feathers and sharp claws stayed amidst the crowns of the forest.
Curious as to what exactly was lighting their way, he looked up between the cracks in the trees overhead and up at the ceiling of their underground world. The roof was littered with what seemed like tiny crystalline stars, lighting the sky up. Add a moon and he’d never tell the difference between this and a real night. He even saw a shooting star, barreling towards them from who knows where.
He froze.
“Incoming!”
His shout broke the silence and lured out the immense pressure hiding dormant within each instructor, their demeanors changing into something akin to wild beasts. Their bodies abruptly lit aflame, only for the fire to condense into solid armour over them, merging with the dull silver and leathers they were already wearing.
Weapons appeared in their hands with intricate carvings and runes glowing bright along their blades. Their presence became stifling, as if he was face to face with a set of higher life forms, each looking down on him as if he was nothing. He saw Sigmar twist his body and throw his spear up into the sky like a rising sun, while the swordsman instructor darted off into the forest. Only the bladesman appeared to stay with the candidates and keep them safe.
The Lanista leaped up above the trees and followed his spear out of sight, leaving them alone and down to one instructor; though the man appeared unphased as he kept eyes on the forest. Ryke had a feeling the bladesman could see everything around him, but he wasn’t sure. He motioned everyone to draw their weapons and group up, making a tight knit crowd all with their backs to each other. They felt the ground shake beneath them, the leaves swaying and branches knocking together like a rockslide. Something was coming.
“Fuck.”
With a single slash the instructor's saber brought forth a windstorm, the gale revealed a few dozen razer thin blades flying through the air towards the first years and allowed them enough time to just barely deflect the hidden weapons. While some still got hit by the blades, none took vital damage. This only caused the bladesman’s gaze to harden.
“Reveal yourself.”
Another slash of the blade and the wind was redirected towards the tree line and nearly ripping them from the ground, the leaves breaking apart and letting in enough light to give away the attacker’s nonchalant appearance. A man with incredibly pale skin, hazel eyes and long dark hair. An outfit not unlike Gaeldir’s, the man revealed most of his body and the oddly squirming tattoos that moved across it, darker than the night itself. They felt.. Alive, and the idea made him shiver.
Ryke blinked and suddenly both figures had sped towards each other, and his eyes widened in terror at the sight. The living tattoos merged with the man’s flesh and protected it like armour, blocking each strike of the blade with their mere palms. The shockwaves produced blew his hair back and revealed the small budding horns on his forehead.
“Keep moving forward! Run!”
Caius and Ryke immediately bolted forward, the duo trying as hard as they could to ignore the fight and lead the first years away. He saw the strange man free a hand to throw something at them only to be interrupted by a flash of the blade- Ryke’s eyes widened, seeing the tail move in slow motion, previously wrapped around the man’s waist like a belt. He saw it whip around and bring itself down on the Instructor’s chest, leaving a deep wound down his chest.
The bladesman remained unmoved.
The youth remained safe.
The duo led them out into the stone forest and ignored the clash of the titans behind them, their ears ringing from the strikes and their hearts beating in fear. The forest was unknown to them and their only true security all just left, leaving them only the choice to run. They didn’t even understand who that was.
Weapons held tight in their hands, they were forced alone into the boundless dark; Aenebra