It was a rainy day in Bleakridge, the sounds of water droplets echoed through the village, the monotonous pattering continuously rang out with no end.
Basira stood by the small window of his house, his mother busily reheating the stew from last night’s dinner.
“Basira, get away from the window, I don’t want you getting cold.” His mother spoke sternly. She turned her head to the side of the hearth, where her husband would be sitting, eager to eat her cooking, had he not perished.
Basira watched over the window, his head leaning against his fist. Quietly looking out the window, his thoughts indiscernible.
The streets were slick with mud and standing puddles, the village was quiet, the sound of the rain occasionally broken with bleat and clucks of chickens. The smell of damp, decaying wood and hay wafted through the moist air, mingling with the scent of wet soil.
“Mom, when can I become an initiate?” the boy asked nonchalantly, still leaning over the window, causing her to freeze in place.
“When you are older… and stronger.” His mother said succinctly, but he could tell that she spoke through choked throat.
He knew that his mother did not like the way the villagers of Bleakridge live their lives, but she understood the importance of it. But without it, the village would not have the power to live in these foggy depths, so far away from civilization.
He stared out, absentminded, and not too long, saw him. The man returned, dragging a giant centipede on his way back. Basira was utterly gob-smacked, he knew this world was strange and unforgiving, and the elders and teachers all spoke of giant monsters in the fog and beyond. But to see one in real life?
What’s even more amazing was that the old man was dragging it entirely on his own two feet. No carts, no ropes, nothing but his bare body.
His mind wandered in amazement as he thought of his future, would he also be able to do this when he is older?
‘System’ Basira spoke in his mind, and a rectangular monitor manifested in front of him. Above the monitor laid the shimmering word [Epic], and within the monitor itself a circle split in 5 sections.
Iron, Heart, Edge, Shadow, Wit.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Each sections displaying an interconnecting web of nodes with one another like a spiderweb. Though they ware all grayed out, overlayed by small text box.
[current physical conditions illegible for system activation, please do your best to improve]
“Basira?” his mother asked, her eyes showing shades of concern. He shook his head, “I’m fine Mom, just amazed at Uncle Jarek’s powers.”
She smiled back proudly “Yes, your uncle is one of the three elders after all.”
Shortly after, the town was abuzz with activity, with people gathering to ask questions. Where did he find it? How did it get so close to the village?
Amongst the many questions of the villagers and elders, Basira was beside his mother outside. There was a sense of unease running through the village. These ‘onyx centipedes’ as they are called usually only live in the deep bog on the south of the village, closer to the middle part of Darkwood. Their toxic venom capable of melting down an entire tree in a few minutes, and their carapace is as strong as iron plates.
“So why are they moving out to hunt so close to the edges Jarek?” Asked one of the 3 elders of the village, a dwarf in all the meaning of the word. Big bushy beard and a rotund muscular physique. His hair had a shade of gray mixing with black, forming a salt-and-pepper look.
“I don’t know, Sigrid. There were some signs that I’m concerned about, but we should have a talk with the grand elder first.” Said Jarek, causing the bearded dwarf to frown, nodding as he turned to the villagers.
“Everyone, return to whatever you’re doing. We will..”
Before the Dwarven elder could finish his speech, a loud shrill shriek pulsed from deep in the forest. The trees themselves begin to groan and creak, and moan.
As if the entire forest was shaken to its core, the wind picked up speed and blew over the entire village, launching things into the air and colliding with the houses and people.
Something was blowing outward from deep within the fog, causing a mild panic within the village, some would scream while others grimaced, tightening their knuckles white.
Basira could even see some of them going under subtle changes, some would have nails growing longer and sharper, some would grow peculiar feathers from their hairs, and some would even have their arms elongated. Even his own mother would undergo such changes, her eyes turn from their usual brown and clear to a feline-like sharpness. The sight left him both mesmerized and bewildered.
“Never mind, everyone return to your home and remain vigilant. I will talk with the grand elder about this.” The Dwarven elder spoke tersely, quickly turning his back and heading in the direction of the grand elder’s home, with Jarek following closely after.