Davon rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he stumbled through the Guild House hallways. Not even ten minutes ago, he had been woken up by Grant and told to find his way to the garden, guided only by the pale light of dawn. It wasn’t a situation he was entirely unfamiliar with, as the first mate had always believed that waking up early was the ultimate sign of discipline.

Looking around as he stepped into the garden, Davon spotted a man lounging on a bench and basking in the gentle morning light. Upon moving closer, Davon recognized the lounging man as Kai. His short black hair and cold blue eyes were accented by the many small scars on his face.

“Good morning, Kai. Been a while,” Davon rasped, his voice still not fully awake.

“Well, well, Davon.” Kai looked up from his seat to meet Davon’s gaze with a cocky smirk. “When Grant told me the third candidate was a familiar face, I never thought it would be you.”

Davon stopped in front of Kai and placed his hands on his hips. “Yeah, and why is that?”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand, I don’t mean it as an insult,” Kai assured him, leaning forward. “It’s just… I never expected you of all people to be interested in becoming a Revenant. You were always one to try and talk things out rather than take a swing.”

“Yeah… trust me, this wasn’t my first choice,” Davon said somberly.

Kai gave him a confused look. Davon was trying to figure out how to explain when the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted his thoughts.

Turning his head towards the footsteps, Davon saw a petite woman, enveloped in a full-body cloak. Her soft features were framed by shoulder-length, platinum blonde hair, a wonderful contrast to her piercing green eyes. She seemed to be nervous, holding her head low and carrying herself as if trying to be invisible.

“Ah, Lyla. This is Davon, our final teammate.” Kai pointed towards Davon.

The woman raised her head in response, peering at Davon with a keenly analytical gaze. Davon crossed his arms and stared back, but he failed to discern anything from Lyla’s expression.

“I’ve seen you before,” Lyla stated bluntly, maintaining her poker face. “At the docks. You are part of the Night Runner’s crew.”

That caught Davon off guard. “I was, yeah,” he replied, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. He wasn’t fond of strangers knowing more about him than he did about them. “If I may, how did you know?”

“I was a scribe, back in Port Perle,” Lyla replied, trying her best to avoid eye contact with Davon. “The port master had me handle the ship manifests.”

Before Davon could ask any more questions, Kai spoke up. “Well, now that we’re all here, we should head to training grounds. We’re supposed to receive our Reliquaries today.”

Kai set off towards his goal without another word. Davon followed in silence, Lyla close behind.

A sense of foreboding struck Davon as they walked. The idea of getting a Reliquary felt almost surreal. Those were weapons reserved for the strong, and Davon was about to join their ranks.

A few minutes later, Davon found himself in another open space within the Guild House. This time, however, instead of stepping into a beautiful garden, he set foot into a what could, charitably, be described as a dust pit with a few training dummies and targets spread throughout.

Davon spotted Grant on the opposite side of the training ground. The old Revenant was leaning against the wall next to a set of double-doors, his eyes trained on the approaching party.

“Here you are then.” Grant raised his voice in mock ceremony. “I won’t keep you. Head on in, the Boneshapers are waiting.”

The sense of foreboding grew in Davon’s heart as he exchanged glances with his two fellow candidates. Then, hesitantly, the group moved towards the door. Intentionally falling a step or two behind, Davon allowed Kai to be the first to step through, scanning over the other man’s shoulder at the room beyond.

What Davon saw was an armory, filled to the brim with weapons crafted from the remains of slain monsters. Swords of all shapes and sizes, spears of various lengths, glaives and halberds, daggers, and crossbows lined every inch of the walls. And in the middle of the room, two figures in robes similar to those of Doctor Yurren stood behind a simple, spotless table. Their faces were covered by the same style of mask as Yurren, though the cords around their necks bore fewer talismans than the doctor wore.

“Welcome, candidates,” one of the figures said, and Davon couldn’t quite discern whether the voice was feminine or masculine. “Have a walk around the workshop. Inspect the weapons freely.”

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Kai let out a chuckle. “That’s it? No ceremony, or… guidance?”

“Of course not,” the second figure replied, their voice almost identical to the first one. “Just have a look and see which one… calls to you.”

Davon narrowed his eyes at the choice of words and took a moment to look the room over again. He knew, of course, that Reliquaries were the source of the Revenants’ inhuman power. However, as far as he understood, that was the extent of the objects’ significance. At the end of the day, Reliquaries were just weapons meant to carry enchantments.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

And yet, the way the Boneshapers spoke made Davon think that there was something deeper to it.

“A reminder,” the first Boneshaper said, interrupting Davon’s train of thought. “Reliquaries are shaped and reshaped, again and again, over the course of a Revenant’s service, but each Revenant only ever binds to one Reliquary. Think carefully before making your choice.”

Davon was the first to move after a brief hesitation, heading directly for the nearest weapon rack. Kai followed him, while Lyla crossed to the opposite wall.

Spurred on by the Boneshaper’s words, Davon carefully inspected every weapon, one at a time, unsure what to expect. Each was a work of art. He eyed a long sword, carved from bone into a perfectly sharp edge. Hanging next to it was a mace which seemed to be made from a black, glass-like substance, polished to perfection. And then there was a spear made from the talon of some massive bird, whittled into a wicked-looking spiral. None of these weapons, however, particularly drew Davon’s attention.

While on the ship, Davon had learned some basic sword fighting and archery under Grant’s guidance, and the old Revenant had shown particular interest in Davon’s archery skills. It also meshed well with Davon’s personality. He wasn’t the type to use a spear or mace and win through brute force. He was more the type to use his environment to gather advantages toward victory.

As if in answer to these thoughts, Davon felt a tug in his gut, drawing him towards a specific spot in the armory. Guided by this feeling, his eyes landed on a dark bow. The bow’s limbs seemed to be shaped like scimitar blades and sharpened to match, connected in the middle by a leather-wrapped handle.

Compelled, Davon grabbed the bow and lifted it. A strange sense of comfort washed over him instantly. The weapon’s weight felt natural in his hands, almost like it was part of him.

The bow had no bowstring attached. Two identical runes were carved into the base of both limbs, and there was a small mechanism attached to the center of the hilt. Curious, Davon started fidgeting with the mechanism. When he pressed and turned it, the two limbs of the bow detached from each other, leaving him with two blades.

With a smirk, Davon reattached the blades and turned to face the Boneshapers.

One glance at his teammates revealed they had just gone through a similar experience. Kai was holding a massive, fanged axe, while Lyla’s fingers were wrapped tightly around a slender spear with a crystalline tip. Both recruits gazed at the Boneshapers with conviction in their eyes.

“The choices are made,” one of the Boneshapers said. “We look forward to your return, that we may improve your weapons further. Now go, don’t keep your mentor waiting.”

With newfound purpose, Davon followed the other two out of the workshop. Grant was waiting for them, arms crossed and a smile on his face.

“Keep them close,” Grant said, pointing to the weapons in the party’s hands. “They’ll begin to bind to you soon, if they haven’t already. It’ll feel weird, but don’t fight it. At the end of it, you’ll know your weapon as well as you know yourself.”

The three new Revenants nodded.

“After the binding is done, you will also notice some physical changes. Your sense of pain will dull, and your metabolism will slow. You’ll become stronger and faster than ordinary mortals. Eventually, your sight, hearing, and smell will grow sharper also.”

As Grant spoke, Davon felt a chill crawling up his neck, the kind of creeping sensation someone gets when they think they’re being followed. Instinctively, Davon looked over his shoulder, but couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary.

When Davon turned back towards Grant, he saw the old Revenant watching him with a smile.

“Yeah, the binding process doesn’t feel good, does it?”

He chuckled at Davon’s nod, then continued his instructions.

“Now, your Reliquaries come with a basic enchantment in addition to the resurrection enchantment. This will be your first taste of real power. Once you get some quests under your belt, the Boneshapers will be more than happy to help you expand the arsenal of tricks your Reliquaries hold.”

“How do we know what these enchantments are?” Lyla piped up, her voice tinged with excitement.

Grant scratched his chin awkwardly before responding. “It’s… hard to explain. When the binding is done, you will know.”

Shivers ran down Davon’s spine as the cold reached the base of his skull. Yet, as the chill continued to climb up through his head, he felt no discomfort. In fact, the grasping cold faded almost immediately, leaving behind a sense of serenity. This strange peace soon vanished also, replaced by a deep understanding that seemed to surge through Davon’s limbs, filling him with new vigor. Davon lifted his weapon again, taking a moment to appreciate the fact that it felt practically weightless.

Without thinking, Davon reached for the space where the bowstring should be. Energy immediately crackled between his fingers, forming into both a bowstring and a projectile. Effortlessly, Davon tested the draw weight, pulling the bowstring back a few times before allowing it to fizzle out.

Satisfied, Davon looked up to find Kai and Lyla watching him with a mix of confusion and curiosity.

“Well, it looks like you’re ready to start your training, Davon,” Grant said, a hint of pride apparent in his voice. “Now, we ju—”

Everyone stumbled as the ground shook violently. The quake lasted only a few moments, but it was enough to send waves of fear through Davon. He quickly looked around for any danger.

The rising sun, which had been bathing the group in gentle golden rays, was now an ominous red. Davon watched in rising panic as the crimson hue spread over the entire horizon. Moments later, an earth-shattering roar echoed from somewhere in the distance.

The trio exchanged nervous glances.

“Come with me,” Grant ordered, his voice harsh with concern. “To the walls.”

Following Grant, the trio ran down the Guild House halls, pushing past a few confused Revenants who were preparing to start the day. When they emerged into the city streets, Davon noted the nearby townsfolk were in varying states of confusion. Some gawked at the crimson sun. Others cried out and rushed into their homes. A few just went about their daily business, only giving the event a cursory glance.

Yet, as he ran past, Davon heard the same words repeated over and over: Red Dawn.

A fitting name, he thought, squinting up at the crimson sun peeking over the horizon.

Grant led the group up onto the walls. Leaning against the battlements, the old Revenant fixed his gaze on the horizon. Davon struggled to catch his breath as he scanned the tree line. The forest’s regular gloom was significantly more ominous when cast in a shade of crimson.

Davon thought he spotted movement in the forest’s shadows, but only for a second. Then, in his periphery, he caught it again: a humanoid form, with oddly disproportionate limbs, running through the trees.

Tapping Grant on the arm, Davon pointed. “There. Movement.”

Grant stared at the spot Davon had indicated for a few moments. Then he stepped away from the battlements with a scowl.

“Stay here. If you see any more, or if they draw closer, come get me.”

“Where are you going?” Lyla asked, her voice shrill with anxiety. “What is that thing?”

“Looks like a scout. And if there’s a scout, that means there’s a larger force.” The old Revenant’s scowl deepened into a grimace. “I’m going to alert the Guild and set up a patrol. If something’s coming, we need to be ready.”