Dungeons are a pretty common resource on the Lutian continent and are usually color-coded to indicate their threat levels, ranging from white to black. Rifts, on the other hand, are rare and even more valuable. Unlike dungeons, which are color-coded, rifts are usually ringed to indicate the class of creatures they contain. A single ring indicates an evolved rift, while a runic swirl indicates a calamitic one.
-Barith Osbourne
Guild master of the adventurers guild.
Ragnarok.
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Immediately after Daruk’s hand touched the ice blue crystal, the world fell away, and he found himself in a world of darkness. All his senses were cut off; there was no sound, smell, or feeling, and all he had were his thoughts. But a moment later, a pinprick of light suddenly appeared, and his consciousness eagerly moved towards it.
The pinprick got larger as he got closer, and by the time he reached it, it had become an opening very similar to that of a rift. He stepped into the light and suddenly found himself standing at the peak of a very tall mountain covered in a thick layer of snow.
The weather was frigid, and snow fell from the sky like rain. A tiny snowflake fell on his nose, but as he moved to flick it off, the world rippled, and a sense of vertigo hit him like a sucker punch.
When he eventually regained his bearing, he found himself in a town square. The statue of a hunter stood behind him; the man was dressed in an icy blue coat that revealed a toned stomach, and his hair was as white as the snow that littered the floor.
It was extremely lifelike, and as he observed the statue, a feeling of awe and reverence began to grow within him. The sudden neighing of a horse snapped him out of his reverie, and he turned to see people moving about, dressed in a similar outfit as the statue.
Many were even less covered despite the cold, which suggested they had some kind of resistance or immunity to it. As interesting as the people were, it was the houses that caught his attention.
Rather than wood or stone, the houses were crafted from ice and snow, and they had such a delicate beauty that could only have been achieved by the use of magic. He turned, taking in the view, and it only took him a second to ascertain where he was.
Unoros, the kingdom of eternal winter, was just as he’d imagined it to be. He’d read so much about Unoros, about their majestic designs and architecture, the eternal cold, and the fact that almost 50% of their awakened population had an affinity related either to frost, ice, or winter, while concepts like death, space, and time were a close second.
Amazed, he leaned against the statue, and impressions of cold and winter suddenly filled his mind, each with a different taste or flavor. When the impressions ended, the world rippled again, and Daruk found himself at the shore of a small lake.
A cold breeze swirled around him, and he shivered before turning to take in his new surroundings. A small forest of dead trees stood behind him. Piles of snow covered the ground, and long icicles hung from gnarled branches.
When he turned his attention back to the lake, his eyes widened in surprise as he found an almost naked woman standing on the lake, like it was glass.
Standing a little above 5 feet, she was dressed in clothing similar to that of the hunter, but hers had been expertly cut to reveal more of her unnaturally dark skin that seemed to shimmer with inner light. Her snow white hair was long and unbraided, and it floated as if she were under water.
The woman was beautiful, unnaturally so, but her expression was indifferent, cold, and unwelcoming. She stared at him for a moment before walking towards the center of the lake. The water barely rippled as she walked, and when she reached the center, she turned to look at him once more.
Seeing that she had his attention, she dipped a toe into the lake, and a ripple spread out from the point of contact. Ice spread out from the point, and in only a few seconds, the entire lake was frozen solid.
Daruk gaped in amazement, shocked by how easily a lake the size of an acre had been frozen in less than a minute. The woman stretched an arm outward, and slowly, the entire lake rose, spinning and growing as structures began to materialize from it.
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Spires and towers formed as the ice continued upwards; arches and domes formed; windows appeared; and a few moments later, an entire castle made of clear blue ice stood before him. Too awed to even think properly, Daruk simply stared at the castle as it shimmered in the sunlight.
The woman turned and gestured for him to come forward. Hesitantly, Daruk stepped onto the frozen lake, half expecting himself to fall and die a gruesome death by impaling himself on an ice spike, but that didn’t happen, and when he finally reached her, he let out a sigh of relief.
“You’re already awakened; you’re not supposed to be here.” The ascendant spoke to him in a flat and emotionless tone that still managed to convey a hint of disappointment and disapproval.
“Esteemed ascendant.” Daruk began with a bow, unsure of how to address this entity, and when she gave no sigh of displeasure, he continued. “I do not want the affinity I awakened; that is why I’m here.”
“Then you’re ungrateful.” She replied with the same neutral expression. “Many aren’t fortunate enough to awaken at all; talk less of resenting an affinity.”
“I know that, esteemed ascendant; I just prefer this affinity.” Daruk stammered, gesturing to the castle she’d built.
“You’re not the first to resent the affinity they awakened.” In a softer tone, she added. “Many come to accept and even love it eventually.”
“Many were not fortunate enough to find the legacy of an affinity they’d always dreamed about.” Daruk replied politely, and the ascendant finally smiled.
“That is true.” She paused for a moment and then gestured for him to follow her as she turned to walk through the castle doors. Daruk hesitated only for a second before he rushed after her.
He had never seen a castle before, and although he’d read a lot of books that had provided ample descriptions for him to imagine one, all his imaginations were instantly put to shame the moment he stepped into the castle.
Delicate sculptures of gigantic creatures adorned the shimmering corridor, and the floor was smooth and translucent, reflecting a soft azure light that emanated from the ice itself. The walls were adorned with intricate frost patterns, and glowing crystals embedded into the walls cast a gentle ethereal glow.
They soon emerged from the corridor and into a hall, which caused Daruk to marvel at the amount of detail the ascendant had put into a few minutes of work.
“As foolish as I think your intention is, you’ve won my trial, and I cannot turn you away.” The ascendant suddenly spoke, dragging his attention away from his surroundings as she continued deeper into the castle. “But you must understand that no element is stronger than the other.”
“I’m aware of that, ascendant; I just feel that I resonate better with the element of water and its sub-elements than the element of earth.” His expression soured even as he mentioned the element. He wasn’t quite sure where his distaste for the earth element had come from, but he’d hated it for as long as he could remember.
“You feel that way because you unconsciously believe that the element of water is better than the element you awakened.”
“Is that so wrong?” Daruk asked as they turned another bend.
“Yes, because, as I stated earlier, it is not.”
“What about concepts? They’re stronger than the elements, right?”
“That is not completely true because there are disadvantages to awakening a concept.” She replied. “Unlike concepts, the origin planes of the elements are much easier to grasp and enter.”
Daruk paused at the word, and his mind flashed back to the storm that had destroyed the ship. With shuddering breaths, he asked. “What are these origin planes?”
The ascendant raised an eyebrow but replied anyway. “They are hard to explain, but in simple terms, they’re remnants of the origin—the primordial chaos; some refer to them as the templates used to build our universe.”
Rather than the answers he’d hoped to receive, Daruk felt even more confused. What was the primordial chaos? And what did she mean by templates?
Before he could ask any of these questions, though, the ascendant opened the door to a small room lined with ice shelves. They were all empty except for one, which contained a single fruit the size of a baby’s fist. It shimmered even in the absence of light, and an intense chill emanated from it.
“What you’re about to do will not be easy.” The ascendant warned, her tone grave, and Daruk dragged his attention away from the fruit. For the first time since their encounter, Daruk sensed a hint of emotion in her tone. “You’re about to pry a neophyte core from your spirit and replace it with another; the pain will be significant.”
“I still want to do it.” Daruk replied adamantly. The ascendant observed him, and she stared at him for a moment before she nodded. “Your adamance is not entirely a bad thing, but it is born from ignorance and foolishness.”
“I get it.” Daruk replied, slightly annoyed. “You don’t want me to absorb your legacy.”
“On the contrary, I do. Determination and adamance are qualities essential for advancement, and you have both.”
“Why are you trying to dissuade me then?”
“I’m only trying to make sure that you’re fully prepared for the pain that is coming.” The ascendant replied and gestured towards the fruit once more. “Go on. Seize your fate.”
Daruk turned back to the fruit, and after a moment of hesitation, he took it and bit into it. The fruit crunched like glass in his mouth, but it instantly transformed into an extremely potent, icy mist that rushed down his throat and into his core.
An intense chill began to spread through him, starting from the tip of his toes but quickly working its way upward. Without hesitation, he threw the rest of the fruit into his mouth, and a moment later, he was completely frozen except for his eyes and mouth.
He lifted his gaze to the ascendant and asked. “I forgot to ask for your name.”
The ascendant opened her mouth to speak, but that was when the agony began. It ripped through him like a thousand knife stabs. His bones cracked and reformed, only to crack again as all the power he’d accumulated was drained from him.
His pathways were torn out even as new ones were drawn. He screamed, but the ascendant made no move to help him, and just when he thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, he suddenly felt a tug on his core, and a moment later it was torn out of his spirit.
White-hot pain seared his spirit as a new core took the place of the old and merged with the pathways. Unable to withstand the pain any longer, his consciousness faded, and the last thing he saw was a black ringed tattoo, very similar to that of Aodhán, branded between the ascendant’s shoulder blades as she stepped out of the room.