“ERIK! Where were you? They just closed the entrance!” a male voice called out.
Erik turned and saw his childhood friend, Taron. The tall young man’s long red hair framed his worried expression.
“I-I… riders from one of the clans got in my way!” Erik stammered out and then added in a confused voice, “... there was a vision.” He wasn’t sure if he should share the rest; he might seem like he was losing his mind.
“Riders? Vision?… Were you spacing off again?” Taron looked at him in confusion.
Right then, a deep voice called out, “Einrik Naudrson.”
Hearing his full name made Erik flinch, he turned and saw that at the entrance of the guild stood one of its explorers.
The young man gulped and marched to the door with a bleak expression.
Is this it? Will they think I was skipping out and execute me? His thoughts despaired as he arrived in front of the gate.
The man was dressed in unassuming armor and furs, but Erik still did not dare to underestimate him. All explorers had a Talent at least somewhat useful in fight, and any one of them could kill him effortlessly.
The man looked him up and down with interest before saying, “Your ancestors must be watching over you, boy. The branch leader ordered that we have the ritual site running in case anyone arrived late… even though you are the only one left.”
“The branch leader?” Erik turned his gaze towards the top floor. There, at one of the windows, he saw the silhouette of a broad-shouldered man looking in his direction, but he disappeared after a moment.
“Aye, stay here for a bit. I’ll let the others know, and then come fetch you after.” With that, the explorer disappeared inside the guild.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Erik wanted to collapse on the ground right then and there. But he couldn’t. He still needed to actually go through the ritual. Taron had apparently overheard the conversation and walked up to him with an amazed expression.
“I can’t believe this happened," he exclaimed and then added quietly with a lively expression, “Do you secretly know the branch leader?”
“No… I’ve never met him,” Erik said, frowning in confusion. The day hadn’t started off in the best way, but disaster was avoided.
“Don’t worry brother, after this you will be able to live a normal life,” his friend said in a reassuring tone.
The young man’s expression hardened slightly. “Yeah, sure.”
“Don’t give me that,” Taron’s smile disappeared.
“I’m not in the mood. Not today,” Erik said tersely.
“Yeah, me too, I don’t want to bring it up again. But I feel like I have to, before you get yourself killed. The Ulednar are hardened warriors, where each one has conquered multiple Whispers... I just don’t think that path is right for you, Erik. It’s too ruthless, too unforgiving. I’m not saying to give up on your dreams, just to find a safer way. There is nothing wrong with living a quiet life.”
Erik did not say anything. Long ago, he had realized that the two of them simply saw things differently, and there was no point in arguing over this anymore.
“Just please, promise me that you’ll think things over, before you rush into something that will get you killed.”
Erik just gave him a nod and decided he wanted to change the subject.
“Thanks for coming... I wasn’t expecting to see you today. But how did you know I hadn't gone through with the ritual and left already.”
“The explorer you just saw is a friend. He told me you hadn’t,” Taron said, waving dismissively. “And of course, brother! Did you think I would skip the most important event of your life?” He then clapped him on the shoulder.
“No, but with how busy things have gotten for you since you Awakened your Talent last year... I wouldn’t blame you. I would have understood if you didn’t come.”
“No way! The instructors are driving me into the ground in preparation for the Whisper, but I gave them the slip today,” Taron said, while smirking.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? If your clan won’t give you more time, you don’t have much left…” Erik said, his voice tinged with worry.
His friend shrugged casually and said, “They won’t. And at this point, I’m as prepared as I can be. I’ll either conquer it or die trying—simple as that.”
Erik gave him a slight nod, "have you decided on which one you will attempt?"
Taron glanced around before leaning in to whisper, "Yeah, there’s a Whisper in the foothills of the Draugkeld Mountains, a few hours east of the city. The clan believes it’s… a special one. On top of that, based on the inspections, they’ve concluded it shouldn’t be too difficult to conquer. One would only need to find and touch the Whisper Tree to exit."
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
"Alright. Be careful..."
"Always am!"
“I am still surprised they couldn’t bend traditions even a little bit for their favorite scion, and not force into it or at least give you more time,” Erik said.
“HA! When did you become so funny. I never thought they would. I was adopted and I am not the only heir. There are a lot of strong candidates.” His face became expressionless.
“There are many watching my every move, waiting for me to slip up… but they’ll wait in vain. I will climb to the top…”
Taron’s eyes grew chillingly cold. “And I’ll find them, Erik. They’ll pay for what they did to us,” he added with quiet resolve.
“I’ll find out which cult it was!” Taron mumbled, the last part more to himself.
Erik kept quiet. He knew his friend was intent on revenge against an imaginary foe and nothing he said would sway him otherwise. He had tried.
And the thing was that Erik fully understood him. They had grown up in the same small town. And aside from their families, they also lost friends. The two of them were part of a group of five children that were close like brothers and sisters. Only three survived, himself, Taron and Freya, after that tragic incident—and that's all it was, a tragic incident.
But it had left a massive scar on each of them and they were still haunted by it to this day, dealing with it in their own ways.
Taron had heard a vague rumor about an old, insidious cult operating near their hometown before the incident, but Erik dismissed it. His parents had never mentioned such a thing, and there’d been no prior signs of a cult. The rumor, originating from a local gang in Skulheim, seemed unreliable—just expensive misinformation.
He didn't know what to say, but his friend picked up the conversion after a moment.
“Erik, do remember when we used to spent our time digging through old books looking for any scrap of knowledge about Talents? In one of the scriptures left by the Exalted, there was something that always stuck with me.”
“Only unquenchable thirst from the upstream river can lead one to the sea of stars… yeah, I remember,” Erik said.
It was something that always stuck with him as well. It was also one of the few things he remembered his parents telling him.
Taron gave him a nod and said with a thoughtful expression, “It’s perverse, but I think I am starting to understand it.”
“Freya always says that as well,” Erik said with a faint smile. “Did you see her?”
“No, but she apparently already went through the ritual.” Taron answered absentmindedly.
The young man smiled. He would need to meet up with her at some point, but he wasn’t on the best of terms with her gang, so it might be a bit difficult.
"Good. I am glad she didn't follow through with those ridiculous tales about people Awakening by entering a Whisper—it's simply suicidal to do that." Erik said.
Taron opened his mouth, but then closed it. He looked like he wanted to say something.
Before Erik could ask him what it was, they were interrupted as the explorer showed up at the guild’s doorway and called out, “Boy, come this way.”
“You’ve got this.” Taron gave him final words of encouragement as the two friends exchanged a nod.
Erik took a deep breath and stepped forward—eager to begin walking on the path toward his dream. He clenched the medallion in his hand. It was cool against his skin.
Whatever awaited him inside, he would face it. He had to, failure wasn’t an option.
Inside the guild, Erik was guided through the grand hall, its walls adorned with ancient banners and the preserved trophies of wild, ferocious beast—silent witnesses to the daring conquests of the explorers.
He couldn’t help but wonder if he would be able to accomplish something like that one day. Looking at the five-foot-large head of a red bear, he struggled to imagine being able to kill something like that.
As they were approaching a stairway leading down, there was a large tapestry that caught his eye.
It was of a man with a long dark beard and dark billowing robes. Sacred glowing runes were tattooed on his shaven head, giving him an intangible air of purpose. His leaf-green eyes were fixed on a mountain chain stretching beyond the horizon. But the striking part of the image was that he was standing on a large jagged hill made of bones.
As if spilling out of that macabre mountain, a cracked human skull was placed on a pedestal in front of the tapestry with words carved in the wood below it.
The same ones as those left by the Exalted.
Erik couldn’t help himself and asked, “Who is that?”
The explorer paused and glanced at the tapestry before turning to the young man. “That’s Bjorn Skuljar. It happened a long time ago, so not many remember, but he is the one that established this city and guild branch."
He seems to have embraced those words as well... Erik thought.
The explorer added, “They say these grounds were plagued by a horde of Draugr, which he destroyed single-handedly.”
“Plagued by what?” Erik had never heard of that.
“Aye, I forgot. That’s their ancient name and what we call them, but normal people know them as Undead. Unlike the Nilgrim, they are weak individually. But still dangerous if there are too many in one place. And where there is one, there will be another. Thankfully, they are almost mindless, driven mainly by instinct—even the Higher-Ranked ones,” he explained.
Erik face paled a bit. The Undead was something had heard of. In fact, most people in this part of the world knew of them. They weren't that common, only appearing in specific location, but the mountain chain a few hours away from the city had an unusually high number of them. And they had a ghastly reputation, many small towns and villages had been ripped apart in the past by large hordes of Undead.
“Why do you think he did it?” Erik asked.
The explorer remained silent for a few moments, looking at the man in the tapestry.
“For the same reason any person would do something unreasonable… the people they hold dear. It’s said he was looking for the right Whisper for his son to enter and Awaken a Talent…” He snorted and added harshly, shaking his head “Lunacy.”
He then shrugged and said nonchalantly, albeit with a hint of admiration, “Also, alone against a large horde? The story is a myth if you ask me.” The man then continued walking towards the stairs. “Come on, the others will be waiting.”
Erik gave a slight nod, but couldn’t help picturing what it would feel like to face a horde of Draugr on his own—reeking of death, countless eyes staring down at him with malice, marching towards him in silence. It was a chilling thought... and then a random and an even more chilling one followed.
What would it feel like to command such a force? A shiver ran down his spine. He shook his head, he needed to focus. Now wasn’t the time to daydream about random stuff that did not concern him.
They descended the staircase, their steps echoing faintly in the depths, and entered a large underground chamber.
Robed figures awaited them there, some were already chanting in low tones and standing in specific locations in a massive runic circle etched on the floor. A few lonely torches interspersed throughout the room were the main sources of light. And the air was surprisingly fresh, as if Erik was standing outside in the open.
The young man gawked at the object that captivated his attention... a large glowing seed.