It was pain that tore Selt away from the sweet embrace of unconsciousness, a rugged weariness and exhaustion spread out over his entire being. It became fainter as his eyes fluttered open and his senses slowly returned, before fading into the background like the dull ache from a muscle long overused.

The roof coming into focus overhead was not the soft wood of his family’s hearthtree but an aged stone mosaic weathered with time. The worn colored stone depicted a misfigured woman wearing a golden circlet adorned with black gemstones. Her features were strangely split down the center of her body; one half a blue-eyed, golden-haired beauty while the other had sickly grey skin and possessed irises the color of fresh blood.

Groggily he lifted his body into a sitting position, the mystery of where he was starting to clear as the clouds around his mind started to lift. The harrowing climb up the temple’s steps, the mountainous spiritual pressure that had almost crushed his soul, just as it all came rushing back he saw the giant black wolf lying in wait.

Its yellow eyes watched his every movement like two full moons as its body lay partially hidden within the shadows of the temple’s interior. As it noticed his gaze it rose to its feet, the movement little more than a ripple against the blackness.

Selt had to resist the urge to flee as the creature slowly stalked forward into the dim light, now that it had noticed him, it was far too late for any chance at escape. At once he knew what the beast was and the knowledge caused his body to tremble. He lowered his head to the cold stone tiles in a sign of submission and respect. No other being would dare set foot in the Tyrant’s domain save for the king itself.

The soft padding of paws on stone marked the creature’s approach, its every footfall sent a shiver racing down his spine. He had no idea why he hadn’t been devoured already, nor why the beast was restraining its spirit. At this range it would only take a simple flex of the creature’s true power to send his soul back to the cycle of rebirth.

As his mind raced to come up with anything that would help increase his odds of survival an ancient force brushed against the edges of his soul. I wonder, just what did you see within your dream child?

They were not words spoken aloud but rather a meaning that reverberated its way from the consciousness brushing his own. It was a way of communication that had shocked him once before, when the bonded beast of a clan elder had tried to commune with him.

“I-I don’t remember,” he replied immediately, not knowing the reasoning behind the question and terrified his lackluster response would anger the Tyrant. “Please, forgive me but I can recall naught but darkness before I awoke.”

Selt could hear the wolf begin to circle him as it spoke. An enviable dream if ever there was one. There is nothing to forgive save perhaps the theft of my own slumber that you stole away, but a theft not intended is not one that should be punished.

It paused its stride as it drew closer behind him, the feeling of warm breath caressed the back of his exposed neck. I wonder child, do you feel that you deserve to be punished?

Fear almost forced him to say ‘no’ on impulse, but he had come here with the intention of stealing from the beast’s hoard. Recovering an artifact from the mound of offerings the neighboring clans gifted the Tyrant each year had been his sole purpose for taking such a foolhardy gambit. He had risked everything to walk a different path than the one destiny intended and now it was time to pay the cost.

“Yes…” Selt whispered. Failing his mission here all but guaranteed his death during the Chosen Trials, without an artifact of his own he would never survive the impending hunt. Better a swift end here then to fall to the terrors that lurked at the cusp of every clan’s nightmares.

With no way out of the situation he embraced the inevitable, breathing out all the tension from his limbs in one long breath. Perhaps death might not be so bad, he’d be able to unburden his loved ones with the strain he placed on their reputation. His mother tried to deny it while his brother had faith his moment would eventually come, but it was obvious that the reason for their family’s declining status originated with him.

Perhaps in his next life, fate would be kinder.

Amusement trickled over him, the feeling so alien to his somber mood that it took a moment to realize that the emotion wasn’t his own. Then consider yourself thoroughly chastised and leave me to my longing of finding my own black dreams.

Hesitantly Selt lifted his head as the sound of the wolf’s footsteps started to recede. “You’re...letting me go?” he asked in confusion.

There is no greater punishment for our failures than the ones we give ourselves, came the solemn reply as the Tyrant’s great black form melted back into the temple’s shadows.

Selt stood up on shaky legs in disbelief at his luck, he took one step towards the light shining through the temple’s exit before pausing. Walking out of here now would see him defenceless in the trials, it would be akin to throwing away his life in that barren wasteland.

Mustering up his courage he turned around and bowed to the seemingly empty temple, “What price would I have to pay to borrow a single artifact from your trove?” It was a bold request, disrespectful in seeing as he had come here to steal such an item in the first place. The kind of statement that might have the Tyrant rescind its kindness in letting him live. Still it was one that Selt felt he had to make.

Yellow eyes opened behind one of the temple’s pillars studying him for a heart-freezing moment before closing once more. For your courage and the price you’ve already paid in climbing these steps you may take one such item. There was a slight pause before the beast continued almost hesitantly, on the premise that you return it yourself when you are finished.

Stolen novel; please report.

Hardly believing what he was hearing, Selt held his bow a moment longer, “Thank you for your generosity, ancient one.” With a feeling of great trepidation he limped over to the pile of priceless treasures, most of the artifacts radiating a potency that would’ve found themselves placed in the clan treasure hall or wielded by one of the elders directly.

Gently, he began rummaging through the massive pile of offerings. Unfortunately most of the artifacts present had requirements for either a certain type or density of essence that he didn’t have, since it wasn’t possible for humans to even produce essence without a spirit he was forced to set those treasures aside. Artifacts that he couldn’t figure out the purpose too, along with those that wouldn’t help him in the trials also joined the rapidly growing mound of rejects.

In the end, the pile that remained was pitifully small; there wasn’t much he could use and even less items with imbued techniques he recognized. As a general rule, Spiritcrafters didn’t tend to forge constructs that could be used by anyone. The risk that their own work might one day be turned against their clan was far too high. It was a well-regarded fear Selt was all too happy to prove right.

His fingers curled around the cold metallic chain of the first item in the lineup, a black metal pendant embroidered with a brown beast core. The stone of the necklace shone with an inner light from the fragmented earth spirit that had been trapped within.

Lacking the rigorous training of a spiritcrafter, Selt couldn’t decipher the complex runic array that sprawled away from the medallion’s core but he could feel the intent the creator had left within; ‘you shall not yield’.

Clutching the pendant was like wrapping his fingers around solid stone, the unmoving will of a mountain in his hands. He mentally prodded the fragmented spirit inside, gently coaxing it to activate the artifact under its own pent up power. Like the slow rotation of the planet the fragment stirred, the spirit having yet to form a personality, obeyed without complaint. It activated the artifact in a pulse of brown light.

Power flooded into his hands holding the metal, as the technique within came to life. His skin grew rigid and taught, making his body feel like it had been dipped in mud and left to dry in the midday sun. Quickly, his skin took on a brownish tint while his movements became stiffer. It was an internal technique he had previously witnessed in a clan duel with the Desolate Mountain sect.

In exchange for making the opposing elder slowler it had made their body far more resilient, both spiritual and mundane attacks had splashed against the spiritualist like water on stone. Though he doubted this artifact would offer the same level of protection it had the rival elder it would still be an incredible boon to have in the trials to come.

He could all but imagine opposing Chosen hammering away at his defense until they were so exhausted that they could no more cast a spiritual technique than he himself, it was a satisfying thought.

The issue was that the first phase of the trial was a hunt, and he wasn’t sure the terrors they were set to slay could even get tired. If his mundane weapons were as useless as he feared against those horrors then he’d only be delaying the inevitable. Once the fragment depleted its stored essence and released the technique, he’d be as good as dead.

Mind made up he gently set the pendant down and picked up the other option he had been heavily considering. It was a circlet made of bone and a familiar purple beast core for its binding. The artifact had been made by his own Ren clan and would allow him access to one of two internal techniques that were so prominent among those who followed the Path of the Eternal River.

Allowing him, to a degree, to manipulate how quickly the flow of time pushed him forward. An Attuned had described it to him as dragging one’s feet against an impossibly strong current, the raging torrent would still push on but you would move more slowly than those that floated normally.

Eagerly he placed the circlet upon his head and activated the artifact. The change of the world around him was magnificent. Purple energy that had been imperceptible a moment before swirled and flooded past his vision, the primordial currents of time that swept along everything in its wake.

He reached out to touch one strand of energy, the movement disconcerting as his arm went to follow his intention a half-step behind. It was a weird disconnection where his mind had all the time he needed to process what was around him, but his physical form still floated normally on time’s currents.

Something crackled to life in his vision, grey essence condensed before ripping open a small void in reality hanging above his head. A small object dropped from the inky blackness, falling to land on his head as the world mended the tear.

Selt moved to catch the item, but misjudged the delay and his hand closed on empty air. The small object bounced off the top of his head, the slowing of time making sure he felt every second of slight pain the mishap caused. Annoyed by the blossoming irritance he deactivated the technique and the metal item finished its descent to clatter on the stone floor.

No need to waste your time with trifles when I offer you treasure. Came the deep rumbling voice of the Tyrant.

Selt picked up the unassuming object that had fallen on the ground; a dark metal ring with no core embedded to power it. The ring didn’t radiate any powerful intent, in fact if the wolf hadn’t sent it his way he wouldn’t have believed it was an artifact at all.

With an inaudible sigh of regret he removed the circlet from his head. Not only was the artifact aligned with his clan, but if he had learned to use it properly he would be on even footing with the rest of the competing Chosen. Still, the Tyrant’s will was not something he could dare to ignore.

After turning the band over to learn it was just as plain on both sides, he slipped it on his index-finger. The metal was cold from wherever it had been previously but didn’t look or feel any different from a mundane ring.

Selt focused his awareness on the object, hoping to find out what made it so special. With each attempt at reading the item he felt...nothing. Even a mundane object such as a household broom would develop traces of an intent after regular use, but for all his spiritual perception could tell, the ring might as well not even exist.

Furrowing his brows he tried to activate the mysterious artifact. His intent slipped into the ring and vanished like it had fallen into the same void the ring had popped out of.

Selt felt another consciousness touch the item, the looming, ancient authority of the Tyrant bore down upon the ring, making the object visibly tremble with its power. The king decreed and the artifact obeyed.

A wash of cold air blew back his clothes as the floor he was standing on blurred, depositing him in a world of grey. Selt was still standing in the same spot within the temple, but now the light coming in from overhead had grown hazy and inconsistent almost as if a deep fog had moved in to obscure his sight.

The treasures at his feet flickered like the fire of a candle, he reached back down to pick up the circlet only to find his fingers passing through the object like it was made of smoke. “What is this?” the question seemed to hang in the soundless world.

A treasure. Came the unexpected reply as two yellow eyes opened among the fog.