Life for Gilliard had changed drastically the second his father told him about the existence of the clans. A clan that only nobles, those linked in high society and the people the mask deemed fit, had any knowledge about. He was thrust into a life he had no idea existed and was expected to swim with no prior knowledge of how to.

From there Galliard's world expanded and evolved rapidly. Between living under the same roof as his siblings for the first time, and the start of his training. His mother and unborn sister died suddenly. His father would fall to tainted blades not long after. Wrath was made ruler of all the clans in his father’s stead. Gabriella whisked away for who knows how long and Galliard was in his final stage of becoming a Black Blade. Something that no one would have thought possible.

The most sought-after position for an aspiring warrior of the clans, barring a ruling Lord or Lady. Those who achieved fame and glory in the Black Blades secured their place as mighty warriors of the Masks. Heirs of great houses, nobles, admirals and generals looked to gain entry to the regiments. Even outside of the Shattered Isles the Black Blades were known and feared. It was not a rare occurrence through the millennia for the Blades to end armies and fell nations without support.

Wrath sending Galliard on the two-year excursion only meant one thing, well two things, foremost being that he wanted his younger brother to gain the experience needed. Galliard trained hard to improve his strength, improving a great deal from the weak boy that stained the family name with his presence. Now he could stand with those of his generation without shame. Even still, his physical strength could not compare to the raw power he possessed within his magic veins. No one dared to look down on him any longer, no one scoffed at the name Galliard.

He stood on the edge of the Canyon of Refinement, staring down into the canyon into the darkness below. This was his next test, after training under Jyn for four months he was finally sending him into the canyon to prove himself ready to move onto the next step of his training.

“Do you understand the rules of this test?” Jyn asked from behind him, “You must survive a month in the canyon of refinement, there will be no respite nor rescue for you there.”

Galliard nods as Jyn tells him once again the blank of the blank he was about to endure. The older man had been drilling it in his head since the moment he started training under him, it was a passage of rites for his people.

“There will be a barrier covering the canyon, if you leave before permitted we will be immediately alerted.” His tone was monotone as he recited words that he had spoken to countless others before him. “The souls of the monsters that you kill will be collected in the artefact that we gave you.”

Galliard's hand instinctively reached for the choker that was securely tightened around his throat. He tried his best to let the man finish talking, but he was enticed to jump down into the dark pit instead of listening to him drone on about things he already knew. The prince knew it was a mandatory procedure, giving him a chance to back out before it was too late. Yet they both knew the youngest son of Wrath had come too far to back down now.

“You had best be prepared, once you cross this path you must either come back victorious or not bother coming back at all.” Jyn’s voice hardened as he spoke, his usually friendly tone disappearing. “We do not need failures in our clans, to come back in defeat is worse than to perish in battle, at least you would have died a warrior.”

As harsh as the words were, Galliard knew them to be true. To come back without completing his task, to admit defeat, he would lose all the respect he had earned. The clans valued the powerful, and to come back early would brand him a craven which was far worse than being simply weak.

“I am ready,” Galliard announced, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice as he stared down into the darkness.

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Jyn snorted at the younger man as he and his familiar dived into the darkness. The Cloaked man watched momentarily, as the lordling became no more than a glimmer in the consuming void. Nodding to himself, the projection of Jyn faded away into black dust as his charge fell deeper into the Canyon of Refinement.

Galliard hit the ground with a hard thud, denting the earth underneath him as his familiar landed gracefully beside him. His eyes flashed a soft blue as he shifted his magic to them. Oddly enough, they were in what looked to be a jungle not dissimilar to his homeland. But where the Shattered Isles were oft bathed in the oppressive light of Xal, all was dark here. There was no natural light here, only the magic veins running through the plant life gave off any form of illumination. The power of Zigtia was strong here, he noted, feeling the presence of the youngest Goddess in the very earth he stood upon.

This was why the members of his clan went there to train. It was that very spot where Zigtia emerged, it was rich in spiritual essence and could turn even the weakest man into a god of war. If they could survive that is.

The young prince entered the far East part of the canyon, where the weakest creatures lived. He needed to make his way towards the West, where the strongest and most formidable of them reside by the end of the month.

Though, the goal of the training was to survive living in the canyon for a month. To leave out of anywhere even remotely close to the east of the entrance, would be an embarrassment you could not shake for the entirety of your existence.

“Okay, Kalama, we have a lot of ground to cover in so little time.” Galliard bent down, scratching the little pup behind her ears. “You don’t need to worry, I’ll protect you no matter what.”

The pup visibly scoffed at his words, finding amusement in the idea.

“Hey, I’m a lot stronger than I used to be,” He spoke, standing up and resting his hands on his hips. “and who are you to judge, you can’t even best a Flame Toad.”

Kalama tilts her head to the side as if mocking him, Galliard shakes his head at the obvious disrespect but does not respond. Looking around the area, he tried to decide where to begin, the canyon was far wider than it looked on the outside. Like its own small world, one could spend their entire life there, never knowing what lay outside the canyon walls.

Galliard knew that this task would be unlike anything he had ever faced, to go out into the world alone to fight monsters without his brother by his side or a teacher. He had no one to rely on but himself, as far as he was concerned, Kalama was more like an emotional support guide than an aid. The prince knew that he would have to be vigilant and could not rest for long lest he be consumed by a lurking beast.

“Are you ready Kalama?” The boy gazed down at the pup as he asked her, she gave a small bark in return, her tail wagging in excitement. “Alright then, time to hunt down some monsters!”

Scooping up the pup, Galliard took off towards the west, he saw no reason as to why he should stay around to fight with lesser monsters. They would do little to challenge him after all having taken on more dangerous foes during his brother’s training. He was there to prove himself, to strengthen his resolve and hone his will. To stay where he was now would only be a waste of his time and effort. He needed to collect the souls of the monsters he defeated in battle and the stronger the abominations he faced the better.

The further into the canyon he travelled, the more attention he gained. Predators stalked the western canyon seeking prey and he was a wealth of magical energy to feast upon. Large monstrosities that reminded the young prince of the monsters of the seas. A mass of tendrils with hooked claws to trap their prey as they consumed them. Others seemed like one of the lesser races in form, at least in part, for they were faceless things with too-long arms tipped with grasping claws.

A few reached for him as he passed, tendrils and claws grasping at his form as he darted away. Galliard paid them no mind, even bursting through the flesh of some that stood in his way. The young prince shook his head in amusement as he gazed down at his contracted beast, her tongue hanging out of her mouth as she enjoyed the breeze as they rushed past the weaklings.

He reached out his senses searching the area for his first victim, one worthy of his time. It was easy to locate, a presence far stronger than any he had encountered so far, like a beacon in the dark. He made a sharp turn, blood beginning to boil as he charged into battle.

Coming to a halt he peers at the large beast, had it not been for the fact that the prince had known where it was, he would have had no idea it was there. The monster stood over twice his height, its skin an intricate weave of bark, moss, and leaves, camouflaging it perfectly as just another tree in the forest. A luminescent glow emanates from its fruits, tempting the foolish or unaware to sample the hanging morsels.

Its surface was flat and wooden, similar to that of the surrounding trees, yet two glowing green eyes watched him from its highest point. It had no mouth, as it were, but Galliard could see two slits on either side of its faux trunk, opening and closing slightly with each breath.

Its long arms come down past more than half of its body, its long sharp fingers sported thorn-like nails covered in a strange glowing liquid. Galliard watches as the liquid drips from its fingers and sucks the life of anything it touches, blackening it.

The tree-like monster watches his every move, a startling intelligence within its gaze. It was sizing him up trying to decide what the best course of action would be. There they stood, gazing at each other, neither one ready to back down.