He passed the forest, took a few turns, and was panting when he arrived, but Godric finally found himself back at the training grounds. He took a quick breath, scanned the room, and found the elf princess lurking in the dark end, staring daggers at him.
"You're late," she pointed out as she stepped out of the shadows, but noticed that Godric had picked out a weapon. "I see you were finally able to choose something. Well, not that it matters." the elf unsheathed her curved long blade as she began to circle Godric, who had also drawn Death's Lament in unison and had already shifted to a defensive stance.
Anarórë took a moment to observe the peculiar weapon in Godric's hands, as it was the first time she had ever seen such a weapon of its kind. "What a strange blade. This might turn out to be an interesting affair after all," she smiled at him, poised and ready to strike at any moment. "I will provide the details of your trial later. For now, consider this to be your final combat training, mortal. Prepare yourself."
In a blink of an eye, the elf seemingly vanished from where she stood and appeared within arm's length in front of Godric, who was barely able to raise his sword in time to block her first strike. Her speed had caught him off-guard.
"Wake up," she taunted him. "This will be a long night."
Godric grunted and retaliated by moving back as he swung his sword downwards. He paralleled Anarórë's position by moving in a continuous motion alongside her as he attacked, which Anarórë responded to by dodging every swing--using her natural agility to her advantage. The exchanges were intense as steel clashed against steel. After a while, she noticed Godric's sword was embedded in the ground after a failed overhead slash. Sensing an opportunity, she looked at his right arm where he was protected with armor.
"It looks like I win again," she spoke to Godric as she swung at the target area, attempting to disarm him.
The ringing of steel rang throughout the room. Anarórë thought she had won, but the elf was sorely mistaken as she was surprised to see a crescent-shaped sword meet hers instead. Godric twisted and gripped his weapon with both hands, fully catching her attack, her sword being separated only by Godric's. Anarórë stepped back out of instinct to study the situation as this was the first time Godric could successfully prevent a blow from her.
His blade was stuck, she thought to herself. How was he able to block that? Looking back at where he was, the twin blade was still stuck to the ground, albeit missing its other half.
"Two blades?" She asked Godric who was already closing the distance between them. "How bold of yo--" Anarórë could not finish as her opponent lunged forward with a stab, catching her off guard. The elf barely dodged Godric's attack as his movements became faster, more precise, and more direct. Godric had a concentrated look in his eyes. She positioned herself as Godric pressed the attack again, but now, the two were enveloped in a dangerous dance.
Godric held nothing back, and Anarórë slowly realized it as they parried and dodged each other's attacks. The results of his training had finally borne fruit. She was right; it was merely hesitance that crippled Godric's movement.
He's a natural in combat--I underestimated him too much. She thought as she ducked a sideward swing that would have rendered her unable to continue. Forced to a corner, she utilized the dagger strapped to her thigh, hidden from sight.
Godric barely moved out of the way before the hidden swing of the dagger could hit him in the neck.
"Hey!" Despite breathing heavily, he shouted at Anarórë, who was finally sweating for the first time. "I thought this was training!" Anarórë replied by lunging at Godric with a sword and dagger, forcing Godric backward as he attempted to block, parry, and dodge her attacks.
He quickly realized that defending would be near impossible, as the elf was reinvigorated with a newfound aggression. Her dagger was able to chink and hit his armor from time to time, as the angled stabs and movement proved too much for his eyes to keep up with. He then switched to a one-armed grip for more flexibility in his movement.
That pattern continued for a good while until Godric fell on his back, breathing heavily. He found himself next to where the other half of his weapon was still embedded in the ground. From across the room, Anarórë was on one knee, her sword halfway across the room as well, and she breathed heavier than usual as this training finally took a toll on her. She looked at him, bewildered, as she probably never thought a mortal could push her this far. Most likely out of instinct, she immediately pulled out her silver bow and let loose an arrow at Godric who rolled out of the way.
He picked up the other half of the twin swords as he stood up and immediately tried to think of a way to close the gap between them. This had to stop, and Godric felt like Anarórë would not listen to reason even if one of them outright surrendered. There was a defiant look of pride in her eyes; one that did not scream of anger, but desperation.
In a moment of adrenaline, he rushed toward Anarórë who responded with a volley of never-ending arrows. He ducked, rolled, and dodged through, narrowly avoiding the elf's precise shots. Godric even deflected a few of the arrows, catching himself by surprise. His stamina eventually failed him at one point, and he stopped to breathe as he knelt on one knee. Anarórë saw the moment to strike and shot directly at Godric's chest.
I win again, she thought as a look of satisfaction spread across her face.
Godric was helpless at the moment, and pressed the two swords together, forming them into one whole weapon again. He closed his eyes, bracing for the arrow to knock him back. He waited for the impending impact, however, it never arrived. Opening his eyes, he saw that the arrow intended for his chest was suspended, in mid-air. The circular figure created by the combined swords glowed at the point where the arrow would meet the opening.
Godric laughed in amazement as he silently thanked Elmar, and quickly ran toward Anarórë who was scrambling to get her weapon. Tensions were high on who could reach their target first. Godric was already running on adrenaline, while Anarórë moved sluggishly. The difference was only a second, but Godric reached her sword first, kicking it out of arm's length. The elf turned and pointed her dagger at him in defense, but Godric already had his swords crossed to her neck, an executioner's stance.
If it were a fight to the death, with one swift motion, he would be able to decapitate her head with ease.
A tense silence filled the room as Anarórë fiercely stared at him. Eventually, she dropped the dagger in her hand.
"I concede." She sighed, defeated as Godric dropped his weapons and slowly sat down, the weariness finally settling in. Anarórë followed suit as she too, sat down on the floor.
A few rounds of applause suddenly came from the corner of the room. The two turned to the source to see lómë and King Ithilien, who unveiled themselves seemingly out of thin air.
"Splendid work, the both of you," Ithilien praised the pair. "I see that his physical training was also a success. Anarórë, you may rest now, my child. Let me provide him the information on your behalf." Anarórë silently nodded and stood up as her twin came to her aid. A druid accompanied by a few dryads also came inside to fetch her, and within moments, the princess was escorted out of the training ground and presumably into the infirmary.
Godric wanted to stand out of respect for the king, but his legs failed him. "Calm yourself, find your bearings first," Ithilien told him as he nodded and collected his breath. "Good." the king then manifested a circular wooden table with three seats. "Now please, sit. We will begin once lómë returns from the library." Moments later, the elven prince returned, carrying three books with him that varied in size and color.
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"Godric, before we continue I have something to confess," the king turned to Godric, who was being tended to by the druid who helped him before. "The trial that was tasked to you; is near impossible to accomplish. For our accomplished soldiers, guardians, and to some extent, even me." lómë opened a violet-colored book and turned to one page. After casting an illusory spell, the room lit up with a map with landmarks and marked areas.
"This is a map containing the information you need to reach the cavern of Araphine," lómë explained to Godric who studied the map intently. "What do these red markings signify?" Godric asked, pointing out a few marks that stood out.
"The markings symbolize the locations of those who died embarking on this trial." Ithilien stepped in to answer. "Many attempts have been made to accomplish this trial, and over eons of watching countless lives try, but only end up failing and lose their lives, it pains me so." He spoke as the room suddenly bathed in a dark blue hue, almost as if the forest itself reflected the elven king's genuine sorrow.
Godric felt sorry for the elves, and seeing the king in this state made him more determined to accomplish this task. He realized that as of now, he was doing this trial not only for his sake but also for the future and morale of the elves. It was the least he could do.
"What sort of dangers would I be encountering?" he asked the king. lómë set aside the book and opened another. "This is what we would call a bestiary in your tongue," Ithilien replied as lómë flipped through the pages. "In the realm of Men, I believe these only exist in the libraries of the Great Houses. The book contains knowledge of every known creature throughout history," he explained as lómë stopped at a certain page.
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They all looked at the page containing a drawing of a woman, and the king's expression had turned into something representing unbridled rage, one that was simply masked underneath his calm, silver eyes. Beneath the facade, Godric could feel the pulse of overwhelming power from the elven king and was forced to use mana to prevent himself from fainting. Eventually, the pulses ceased, and Godric could breathe easy.
"I apologize for my behavior. lómë, if you may." The prince without question then proceeded to continue where his father had stopped. "The cavern is home to many dangerous beings; a rare species of venomous spider, centipedes of unimaginable size, and many more. However, what you will have to look out for, would be the Witch." He conjured the blurry image of a woman with a somewhat youthful appearance.
Drawn mysteriously by her beauty, Godric had fallen into a trance, but lómë quickly knocked the sense back into him. "Do not be fooled by this thing's appearance," he told Godric. "This...monster has taken countless lives because of its magic. Its charm draws you in, will make a fool out of you, and then finally it will take your life. The monster does require sustenance, but enjoys the thrill of watching you suffer even more." Godric steeled himself after hearing lómë's word of warning.
"According to what is written, there was ever only one occasion where it appeared in its true form and lay waste to our kind on a massive scale," Godric wanted to ask him for more information on how to survive. However, a part of him ultimately decided to let it be.
lómë continued to explain the rest of the details. The cavern was located in neutral territory, therefore the elves could not help Godric against the local authorities once he stepped outside the borders. "The ones marked in green are listed as safe havens," lómë pointed out. "We have a few abandoned lookouts in these areas that still contain supplies. Not to worry as they cannot be seen, or accessed by the untrained eye, but I will teach you how to do so before you set off." lómë then opened the final book, which looked older than the previous two.
"Now this is what you have to seek out." The prince flipped through the wrinkled pages until they saw a necklace of unmatched quality. Its design was foreign and ancient but had an elvish influence as well. Godric studied the relic even further and noticed that it resembled a crescent moon, aligned with bright, silver gems that glimmered like starlight. "It is beautiful," he remarked. "It is indeed," Ithilien praised the handicraft as well. "The crescent moon is considered our house's sacred relic, but it also holds a dear place in every elf's heart. Not just for my subjects, but for all of my kind." He sighed and then smiled as if recalling a pleasant dream or a memory.
"If you manage to accomplish this, then know that all of the elven kind shall be indebted to you, Godric." The king nodded his head down as if to say good luck. The boy stood and bowed in return. "I shall do my best, Your Majesty," he replied. "But I have to ask, how can I exactly get in and out of the cavern alive?" lómë quickly picked up the bestiary and to the page that contained details about the witch.
He scanned the page and patted his index finger on a scribbled section. "The beast's specialty is that it has an impeccable sense of smell. One step inside the cavern, and it will easily know that you are there." Godric looked at him, dumbfounded.
"I don't know how that will increase my odds of surviving, Iome." He walked around the room to try and think of a plan.
"Or...perhaps it will," the king spoke after a brief silence, which caught the attention of the two. "I know what this beast is capable of. It is an ancient and prideful being. Long ago, nothing was worth its time, with the only worthy exception being us elves who it saw as prey," he explained. "There is a possibility that our most distinguished warriors failed because they lacked the element of surprise. It had smelled their presence a considerable distance away already."
The king stood up with a newfound energy, somewhat filled with hope. "If you, a mortal, stepped into its lair then there is a chance that it will simply ignore your presence. It is a gamble, yes, but it provides us with an opportunity at success." Ithilien had a fire in his eyes, one that Godric was glad to see.
lómë couldn't help but smile. It was the first time in a long time since he had seen his father filled with such hope. Such a sight was a rare occasion, and he treasured the moments when it happened. "lómë, take Godric to his room and see to it that he is prepared for the journey. He has a long road ahead of him tomorrow," Ithilien commanded the prince, who nodded his head. "Godric, I wish you the best. Get a good night's rest for you will leave at dawn," the boy looked at the elven king, determined. "As you wish, your majesty." The two left the room, leaving the king alone to his thoughts. After sensing that they were gone, the king finally sat back down, shaking.
"My dear Illyrana," the king spoke to himself. "This mortal might finally be the answer..." he continued as tears fell on his scarred, yet angelic face. "Wait for me, please." His voice, breaking.
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Time passed quickly for everyone that evening. Godric slept as lómë and the druid healed his fatigue. Anarórë couldn't sleep, and took a stroll through the forest, contemplating what might happen next. The king made the arrangements so Godric could start without encountering trouble while still under his territory. Multitudes of the kingdom's inhabitants rose from their sleep earlier than usual and flocked to the northern section, wanting to see Godric off. The light was starting to break, and everything was all set.
Godric woke up feeling well rested, despite the rough training he encountered the night before. "Ready?" lómë stood at the doorway, stepping into the room carrying Godric's armor. He looked at the armor and saw the damage had already been repaired. "Did you take this to Elmar?" Godric asked.
"I did, and he immediately went to work on it." The prince replied. "Seems like you didn't get any sleep at all," Godric pointed out. "No worries, a night without rest is hardly a second in the life of an elf. I feel fine. You should prepare yourself, though. They're waiting for you." lómë left the room to give Godric some time to gear up.
He left the room with Death's Lament strapped to his back, along with a pouch that contained a generous amount of gold for possible transactions with his kind. As he walked through the forest, he said his goodbyes to the other forest folk who considered him a friend. He passed by the smithy's to give his thanks to Elmar. "I hope we meet again, Elmar--thank you," Elmar smiled at him. "Likewise, friend. I hope you make good use of them. Now go, they're waiting for you at the northern gate." The two exchanged nods and went back to their own business.
Godric headed north and eventually found himself at the magically barred gates with the king, lómë, and the forest folk awaiting him. "Are you ready, Godric?" Ithilien asked the mortal, who quietly responded with a simple nod of his head. The king then turned around and spoke in elvish, summoning one of the wisps that gave Godric his trial. It twirled around the king and merged itself with the large, ancient wooden gates, removing the magical barrier. Elven soldiers then worked together to push it open, the gates creaking loudly.
lómë approached Godric with a map in hand. "You'll need this after you step outside our borders. I've marked every road, town, and safehouse you'll be encountering on the way there," he explained as he handed it to Godric.
"Thanks, where's your sister?" Godric asked him. "She's outside with her squad. They'll be escorting you until you reach the end of the border." The prince replied.
"I see. Earlier on, you mentioned that these safehouses require a trained eye to be seen. Also, how do I even open them?" Godric asked. "Simply concentrate a portion of your mana to your eyes. In doing so, you'll see that things will be somewhat different. Try to do it now." lómë instructed Godric as the mortal closed his eyes and imagined that a portion of mana would gather around his eyes. It took him a few minutes, but after envisioning what lómë had said, he opened his eyes and saw that the world around him was now dyed in grey and white.
He noticed that non-living things were dyed grey and that the color white represented beings that were alive. However, he looked at lómë and saw that his entire body was a mixture of white and blue. "Woah..." Godric was taken aback. "I take it that the blue hue represents things that contain mana?" he asked as lómë nodded in approval. "You learn quickly. Yes, it does, but it only appears on living things that have learned how to manifest the innate mana within them or inanimate objects that have been imbued with magic." the elf explained.
Godric turned to the animals that were present to check and saw that they only glowed with the color white, proving lómë's response to be correct.
"Interesting. How about the door?" Godric asked.
"If you approach a safe house, speak the word edro, and the door will open." the prince answered him. "Edro...sounds simple enough. Thank you again." Godric extended his hand, as a sign of respect and gratitude for the prince, to which again, the prince accepted without hesitation.
"Come back alive," lómë shook his hand. "I'll try my best," Godric responded. He then passed lómë and went to the king, who was surrounded by his guard. "Your Majesty." Godric bowed.
"Best of luck to you, Godric of Rosetown. May the old gods protect you in your journey." Ithilien said to Godric. The boy then passed the gates and was met by Anarórë and her squad. She was in good shape after last night's fight but remained silent.
"We'll be accompanying you until the end of the border," one of the elves dressed in what appeared to be a scout's uniform told Godric. "Are you ready, mortal?" He asked him.
Godric took a deep breath and looked at the elf. "Ready as I'll ever be. Let's go." The elf nodded as he shouted a command to his squad, who began to move. He then signaled to close the gate behind them. The gates slowly closed with a loud thud. The group then moved forward and eventually found themselves outside the forest, with Godric seeing the morning light rise from the distance.
He stopped in his tracks. It had been a good, long while since Godric had tasted the sunlight. He was happy to see the dawn. For him, he considered it as a new chapter in his life and a chance at redemption.
"Did I beat your legs so badly last night that they now forgot how to move?" Anarórë shouted at him from a distance. The group was already a considerable distance away from Godric. The boy simply replied with a smirk as he rushed towards them, eager to start his adventure.