The masked man stepped down from the carriage and approached the city gates, he had to go through the normal procedures before they could enter. The mist that once clung to the nearby fields had lifted, making a nice sunset visible.
Leo shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench inside the carriage, he felt like multiple splinters had already entered his skin. He had placed his two old, worn blades in the hidden shelve behind the rotted plank, while the new weapons rested beside him. But it was the black blade lying on the opposing bench that kept on catching his attention.
Curiosity got the better of him. His hand, cold from the morning air, reached out, closing around the hilt of the mysterious black weapon. It felt oddly familiar in his grip, though heavier than he was used to. With a careful movement, Leo lifted the blade and placed it gently across his lap. He ran his fingers along the weapon, noticing the rune-like patterns carved into its black surface, each symbol different from the others. His gaze traveled to the small secondary blade cleverly concealed on the opposite end of the weapon. “The man said I had to inject mana into it…” Leo mused to himself. I should test it before relying on it.
Concentrating, he let mana flow toward his right hand. It felt easier now, almost natural,to channel energy throughout his body ever since that drug-induced dream. A tiny spark flickered in the palm of his right hand before being absorbed into the blade. Slowly, the runes began to glow softly, one after another, in a dim purple light. It was mesmerizing to watch the foreign symbols come to life. As the final rune lit up, a soft mechanical sound echoed through the blade, and the hidden small blade slid out from the hilt, mirroring the larger one above it.
Leo’s eyes widened in awe as he examined the now-twin blades. One curved towards him and the other away from him. He hesitated, then placed both hands on the weapon, testing it further. With a light snap, a soft click echoed, and the two blades separated effortlessly.
“As he said, it really is two blades,” Leo whispered, a hint of respect and amazement in his voice. He held each weapon carefully, feeling the perfect balance of their weight. There was something about the blade that made his worries ebb away. As if the mana wasn’t the only thing it absorbed. “Fascinating”, he whispered softly.
The boy halted his mana supply into the blade and watched as it folded back together when the two hilts touched. He placed it back on the other bench and sat back against the wooden wall. The voices outside seemed to end their conversations after a while, marking that the trip would come to an end soon. The man got back inside of the carriage and looked at Leo. As the carriage departed again he spread his lips to speak. “Everything went well, we’ll now enter the city… These are the last minutes you’ll ever see me, if you have any questions, tell me. Your life is more important than some pride although I think you already know that… I wish i did.”
Leo stared at the black blade and decided to speak his mind. “That blade, what exactly is it?” The words left Leo’s mouth more hesitant than he had wanted them to be. Silently, the host picked it up from the bench he was sitting on and raised it. “That’s a question no one can completely answer. I can tell you it’s a soulblade, they’re weapons which can grow towards their user. But every single one of them defers in strength and ability. you’re lucky as this one hasn’t been used before in the last few centuries. to simplify it, this blade doesn’t have any requirements to wield it, the thing hasn’t formed to a certain person. The longer you’ll use it, the more it will shape to your abilities. For example after a few years it might require your type of magic to even wield it.”
Leo’s eyes widened. he knew about soulblades but hadn’t recognized the one right in front of him. Father also had one. I wonder where it is now. Faintly, a memory appeared where he had asked his father about it. The conversation was so long ago the boy didn’t remember most of it but he could confirm that it was around the same as what the former host had spoken about.
After a few minutes the carriage halted again and the host marked for Leo to get up. “We’re going to have to go by foot from here on. Our… status makes this the limit.” The boy smiled knowing what the man meant. The masked host wrapped up the soulblade in a thin black silk and helped Leo to attach it to his back like a backpack. He got up and went through the small wooden door after sheathing the two metal blades on his sword belt.
Foot by foot, Leo stepped onto the stone road. The uneven cobblestones felt foreign under his thin, leather boots, a cool texture unlike the dirt paths he had always known. For the first time in his life, he gazed upon streets illuminated by lanterns. Warm, flickering lights hung in iron sconces, created by simple spells.
Proper buildings lined the street, their stone and wood facades were sturdy and tall. Some had colorful banners dancing with the wind, others displayed shop signs in neat, painted letters—far different from the mud-brick homes he had grown accustomed to. Leo’s jaw widened a bit as he stared around taking everything in.
Tons of people were walking across the road in every direction. Merchants had their products laid out in front of them in all sorts of tents. The distant sound of conversations and human life made Leo forget about why he even came here.
Unknowingly, his right hand was clenching onto one of his sheathed swords, ready to take action for if he were to be attacked. The masked man put a hand on his shoulder. “Relax kid, now that you still can.” Gently, the man pushed Leo forwards and guided him through the maze of streets. The boy followed the directions provided by his ally and navigated through the main streets of town. It was quite noticeable how many people stared at the pair, most of those glares filled with disgust or fear. Some woman even hid her children behind her after noticing them.
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“Sir, why do those people react like that when they see us?” The man patted his shoulder and sighed. “They can see it because of my mask, and your clothes. Our presence alone tells them we’re not from here, and outsiders… well, they rarely bring good news.” Leo nodded agreeing to what he said. He also never liked it when outsiders came to his tribe.
At last, they reached their destination, a ginormous market square made out of a gleaming white granite, reflecting the rising sun. The square alone was larger than an average village, which left tourists in awe. As Leo had heard, towering above it all, stood the city’s stadium. The stone structure was impressively big, its walls decorated with heavy banners bearing Topesh’s symbol: a white flag with a black dagger wreathed in flames. The banners flickered in the wind and were visible from every corner of the square.
The air was filled with anticipation, as thousands of people were entering the stadium for their favorite event of the year, the trials. Leo felt a bit lost with the pressure of fear and hope on his mind.
The masked man who had walked silently beside him for most of the walk tapped Leo’s shoulder with one of his cold hands. “Kid, this is our last moment together. If you have any questions, ask them now.”
Leo blinked, a hint of confusion apparent his face. “Our last moment?” He glanced towards the stadium, realizing what the man meant. The two of them would enter through different gates; Leo as a participant and the man as a mere spectator. From here on Leo would be alone again. A part of the boy wanted to ask more about the plan, to ensure his doubts, but another question weighed heavier on his mind. Something that had been bothering him for a while now.
“There’s one last thing I want to ask you,” Leo said. “What is your name, sir? I want to know the name of my benefactor.”
The masked host changed his posture a bit, the movement making it look as if he was thinking deeply about the simple question. When he spoke, his voice was nothing more than a whisper, with a mournful tone to it, “I wish… I wish I knew. They took it from me. It was the price I paid to survive. Don’t ever come back to the Exiled.” Leo looked horrified. Just what did they do to him? Is it possible to remove such crucial memories in a person? Does that mean they can… No, I shouldn’t even think about it.
The man made an elegant bow by setting one foot towards Leo. “Good luck, may all of the fallen stars look upon you.” The boy tried to smile but the revelation from before made it seem insecure. “Thank you for everything, I’ll be forever in your debt.” With that, Leo set off to the entrance of the stadium. Hundreds of people walked around the plaza talking to one another. When the boy reached the big stone gate with two separate ways he looked back to watch the man one last time. The man hadn’t left his bowing pose and stood there in the middle of a crowded square.
Leo turned back and entered the participant line, his heart pounding in his chest. The room he stepped into was filled with men and women, all older than him by several years. He couldn’t help but notice that the youngest after him seemed to be at least sixteen, maybe even older. I forgot for a moment that no one goes at fourteen… but isn’t this a bit too extreme? he thought, feeling the weight of the stares boring into him.
One by one, the participants made their way to one of five desks, each of them stoically filling out forms with a grim air about them. When it was finally Leo’s turn, he stepped up to an empty desk where a brunette woman with a scanning, disdainful look sat. Her lip curled into small a sneer.
“Normally I wouldn’t even allow this, but a beggar more or less won’t make a difference, even if you’re a kid.” Her voice was filled with disgust as if she didn’t even want to look at Leo.
Leo felt a slightly offended by her words but looked down, not wanting to meet her judging gaze. With a quick read of the paper, he understood what he had to do. Without hesitation, he bit into his left thumb, the familiar taste of blood filling his mouth. He pressed it onto the page, marking it with the crude signature required.
“You probably can’t even read,” the woman murmured, her voice cold and mocking.
Leo’s eyes looked up with a small glare, but he didn’t react. He knew better than to be taunted so easily, so he left the comment for what it was, handing back the bloodstained form. She snatched it from him without a word. Without looking at him, she tossed a small token towards him, it was a participation number etched into a dull bronze coin with the number 260 on it.
Leo caught the coin and turned away, slipping it into his pocket. He felt the eyes of the room on him again, judging, doubting. But he wouldn’t let them see him falter. The child walked off into the arena after having to go through some simple procedures like checking his verification.
Inside the huge stadium hundreds of people stood in the middle, watching a podium. Leo walked up to the group and hid inside the crowd. There were thousands of people watching which he didn’t really like. He felt vulnerable in the big crowd. After scanning the surroundings he noticed he was by far the youngest person in the stadium stimulating his stress. Although most seemed to be between sixteen and eighteen there were adults in their prime present. The boy also noticed a man standing on the podium, a slim figure with brown hair. Leo was too far away to actually see details but it was probably someone important who had to host the event.
Half an hour passed by with a heavy pressure in the air. He had managed to calm himself down and regained his composure. He was prepared to do everything to succeed. More and more people had entered the center of attention. At a certain point in time the flow of people entering had stopped making Leo think everyone was in. Not long after his thoughts were confirmed by the host beginning his speech. By using sound magic, the voice could be heard everywhere at the same volume.
“Welcome, everyone, to the 365th hosting of the Trials of Catastrophes. Last year, we witnessed an extraordinary edition—‘A Year’s Cycle,’ as we called it. The trials were altered, and the results were nothing short of spectacular.
Today, I present to you this year’s theme: ‘The Leap.’ As many of you know, 365 signifies the days in a leap year, a rare occurrence in our calendar. In recognition of its rarity, the great leaders of the nations convened and declared that this year’s Trial would be reserved for the elites. A leap year is seen as a symbol of uniqueness, and thus, only the top 5% from each city’s contenders are permitted to participate.”