by J. T. Wright
But what? A Spell? He was a Mage now; the perk of that Class was that Mana requirements for Spells would be reduced. Cleanse might cure his numbness. It wasn’t as effective in the hands of a Mage as it would be under the guidance of a Healer, and for 1 point, it probably wouldn’t be very powerful. Trent kept looking.
He concentrated on Abilities and looked deeper into the list. Finally, his eyes shone when he found Major Regeneration. The cost of 20 Points caused his held breath to leak out in a sigh. But where there was a Major Ability…
Regeneration: 10 Points
Minor Regeneration: 5 Points
Nearly half his Points or almost all? With 6 Points left, he would be able to purchase at least two more Skills. It never crossed his mind to save them. Once he started spending, Trent had an almost frantic need to spend it all.
He chose Minor Regeneration, and started searching for his next pick. The creak and grind of his shoulder as bones ground together and popped into place stopped him. The tingling sensation of a thousand ants crawling beneath the skin of his legs, chewing at the torn and blistered flesh, made him suck in air violently. The feeling of acid gathering in the veins of his arm and forcing its way out of his pores had him biting his tongue to keep a scream from drawing Beasts to where he lay immobile.
The process was slow. Trent had no trouble keeping track of the time. The countdown for the Trial kept him well informed as the seconds trickled by. Five minutes and the ants left his legs. Ten minutes before he regained control of his left arm, and the burning ceased.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position and scrambled to set his back against the wall. His right shoulder continued to grind with glacial slowness. Gritting his teeth, Trent brought the Skill list back up, trying to focus on it.
1 point for the Spell Firebolt. A ranged attack and no need for studying.
3 Points for the Skill Silent Casting. That was the impulse buy Trent almost regretted. Using the Level 1 Silent Casting increased the cost of Spells so much that it negated the effects of his Mage Class. Worse, once knowledge of the Skill placed itself in his mind, he realized it was one that could be learned with practice. It merely internalized the chant necessary for shaping Mana.
The regret was enough for Trent to decide to save his last 2 Points. He closed the Skill list and went over his Status.
Name: Trent Embra
Age: 13
Race: Al’rashian
Level: 21
Sub Level: 5
Class: Survivalist Level 3
Class: Swordsman Level 11
Class: Mage Level 2
Class: Warrior level 2
Class: Archer Level 1
Class: Rogue Level 2
Profession: Miner Level 3
Profession: Herbalist Level 2
Health: 675
Stamina: 675
Mana: 130
Strength: 43
Agility: 37
Dexterity: 42
Constitution: 15
Endurance: 3
Intelligence: 13
Perception: 2
Wisdom: 17
Free Attribute Points: 28
Free Skill Points: 2
Skills
Unarmed Combat Level 2
Basic Small blades Level 7
Basic Shield Level 1
Basic Longsword Level 10/max
Thrust Level 6
Triple Slash Level 3
Chop Level 8
Long Slash Level 7
Basic Archery Level 1
Disarm Trap level 1
Create Traps Level 4
Detect Traps Level 3
Tracking level 6
Dash Level 10/max
Dodge Level 6
Mining Level 1
Appraisal Level 1
Identify Level 5
Herbalism Level 6
Harvesting Level 5
Armor Crafting Level 1
Riding Level 2
Animal care Level 1
Mana Control Level 1
Stealth Level 3
Camouflage Level 3
Mana Manipulation Level 1
Throwing Level 5
Climb Level 1
Ocean Meets the Shore Level 1
Three Steps Level 5
Acrobatics Level 2
Steady Footing Level 3
Military Fencing Level 1
Block Level 1
Parry Level 1
Disarm Level 1
Leadership Level 3
Weapons Crafting Level 3
Sewing Level 1
Light Armor Level 1
Flash Strike Level 1
Enhanced Jump Level 1
Arrows Flight Level 1
Bloodletting Level 3
Spear Level 10/max
Basic Spear Level 1
Create Arrow Level 1
Free Diving Level 1
Triple Shot Level 1
Clever Hands Level 3
Moonlight Banishes Shadows Level 2
Silent Casting Level 1
Abilities
Map
Storage Level 5
Heart of the Inferno
Fire Manipulation Level 3
Far Sight Level 2
Earth Manipulation Level 1
Minor Regeneration Level 1
Spells
Spark/Charm Level 4
Ember/Charm Level 1
Spirit Flame/Charm Level 1
Self-Clean/Charm Level 4
Dust/Charm Level 1
Balm/Charm Level 1
Mend Level 1
Prepare Hides/Charm Level 6
Firebolt/tier-one Level 1
He was a year older. That must have happened in his Personal Trial. Time had been suspended for Trent, and yet he still aged. He wondered how that worked.
Several of his Skills had also leveled on that place, and with those levels, his Attributes had increased. With the 28 Free Attribute Points he had to spend, Trent would walk out of this Trial with a lot more growth than he ever expected.
He was Level 21 now. A higher Level than Kirstin had been when she first saw him and spit with disappointment. What would she think of his Status now?
Maybe later that thought would gain traction in Trent’s mind. Right now, he couldn’t care less. It was an abstract idea that was absolutely no help.
Trent closed his Status without increasing his Attributes. As much as he wanted to add to his Constitution, his shoulder was still healing. It was not the best time to apply serious physical changes to his body. Leaning against the wall and clawing with his left hand, Trent stood up.
He turned towards the staircase that led back to the fourth floor. He was still in no condition to fight. It was time to leave this place.
The eyeball, as large as his head, black as night and unblinking, that shoved itself into his face seemed to disagree with him.
Chapter Forty-Six
Trent shouted a snorting, coughing exclamation as he swatted at the curious orb in front of him and stumbled backward. The eye retreated, and a sucking noise could be heard as it retracted. It shrank as it whizzed back until it was a normal-sized eyeball, ticking back and forth in the air, a few feet away from him.
Size was the only thing Trent could see that was normal about the eye and its owner. The eye had two companions that waved about on stalks eight inches long. A nose that was just as long, more snout or trunk than what Trent was used to seeing, hid an oval mouth and complimented the eyestalks. Trent didn’t know what to call the creature he was looking at.
Drooping lips and sagging skin, a body that wobbled and stretched while standing still, seven limbs that could be arms or legs depending on where you were standing, the creature was a mishmash of parts. It would have been terrifying had it been taller, but at three feet from toes to top of eyestalks the thing was almost cute, in a hairless and hideous sort of way.
“Trial restructuring,” Whatever it was, the thing spoke in an emotionless voice that ru
mbled with authority, completely unlike the peeping noise Trent expected to hear from such a creature. “Keeper is incapacitated. Conditions to evolve have been met. Studying current layout.”
Trent stood still and kept his hands as far away from his weapons as his aching shoulder would allow. Two of the creature’s eyes bobbed up and down, while the third circled in place. All seemed focused on Trent. He cleared his throat to speak but was at a loss for words. The creature was not so stymied.
“First floor… acceptable. Second floor… unreasonable challenges detected, adjusting. Third floor… unacceptable. Restructuring. Fourth floor… mostly acceptable. Adding Traps and secondary tunnels to increase difficulty. Fifth floor… acceptable for current challenger. Will reassess once Trial has been cleared or failed.”
Trent’s shoulder popped loudly, causing him to wince, and an eye to enlarge as it extended to view him more closely.
“Determined that Keeper has used greed to lure an appropriate challenger and fear to discourage companions. This is within the rules. Detecting entry to fourth floor Guardian room has been modified to prevent all but one from entering. Unacceptable.” The eyeball slurped back to its smaller size and briefly became entangled with the other two. “Keeper’s success and subsequent incapacitation judged to be suitable explanation and punishment. This must not happen again.”
The hallway grew quiet as the creature’s voice faded after its pronouncement. Trent took a careful step to the side and sought to step past the creature towards the exit. The eyes followed him.
“Can I go now?” Trent kept his voice polite. It did not take a genius to figure out that he was looking at a Trial Spirit, or that the Spirit had appeared because it wanted something. Manners were called for.
“Trial incomplete. Exits have been sealed. Respawning of Beasts on prior floors suspended until current situation is resolved with Keeper’s return or replacement.”
Trent thought that was good news. No respawning meant he could sit in the fourth floor Guardian room for the next five hours and thirty minutes without worry. He could take a rest, eat, and sleep while his arm repaired itself. He had no Quest and was under no obligation to finish the fifth floor. He was supposed to be able to leave whenever he wanted!
“Trial will become dark if not completed,” sensing his hesitation, the Spirit continued in its monotone voice. “Current Keeper will be replaced by demonic entity. Trial’s difficulty will subsequently soar.”
“That isn’t a bad thing,” Trent offered cautiously. “A harder Trial means more XP, greater rewards.”
The Spirit’s eyes pulled in close to its scalp and grew wide. “A dark Trial evolves through death. Many will die. The new Keeper will see to it.”
“People risk death in all Trials.” Trent had never heard of a dark Trial before, but Kerry had nearly perished on the second floor, eaten by ants. He and Felicia would have been cut in half had Trent not warned them to lay flat when the Ants came.
“Many will die.” For the first time, emotion seeped into the Spirit’s voice. Its trunk extended, wrapping around its head, and covering its eyes, reminding Trent of the pink scarf in his Storage. “Many will die, starting with current Keeper. Requesting Shadow Hunter finish what he started.”
“I started?” Trent had been on the verge of giving in. The Spirit was too pitiful, hunched in on itself and begging. Then the blame came, and Trent lost all sympathy for the manipulating wretch.
“I started?” He repeated, slapping his hand against the wall. It was his right hand. The motion jarred his still-healing shoulder and did nothing for Trent’s mood.
“I would have stuffed the bleeding Token into the Rat hole and been done with it,” he shouted, stepping towards the Spirit with a growl, heedless of the fact that the huddled, wobbling thing was capable of crumbling the walls around him. “It was your Keeper who pushed for this. The Spider didn’t want Rats or Goblins. It wanted to be unique!”
“She, not it.” The Spirit trembled and pushed one eyestalk out from the covering of its trunk to peer plaintively. “She is young. Not even a thousand years old. The young make mistakes… please. Please finish the Trial.”
“She? Young? I'm barely thirteen! Why is it my responsibility?” The Spirit didn’t answer.
Trent’s shoulder hurt. The pain radiated to his neck and his head throbbed. The blood that pulsed in his temples added to that, but that one word, please, stabbed deeper than the ache.
“Blood and Ash, and damn!” Trent tried to remember the names of gods that Cullen swore by. None came to him, just the image of Tersa swinging upside down after she blasphemed against a goddess in her own temple.
“Damn, and damn twice! Thrice damn!” Trent exhaled explosively and whirled on his heel. “Fine! You'd better provide Healing potions in the drops. This Minor Regeneration will be a distraction if I have to rely on it.”
When the Spirit didn’t respond, Trent looked over his shoulder. The corridor behind him was empty.
“Do you hear me?” He shouted at the ceiling.
“All rewards are predetermined and cannot be adjusted. Trial Spirits and Keepers are not to be extorted.” The emotion had left the Keepers voice again as it echoed through the tunnel. “A Beast, fifth floor’s Devouring Fiend, approaches. It was attracted by the challenger’s noise. This warning breaks the rules and will not be repeated.”
“I have a name!” Trent started to draw Sorrow with his left hand. His hand lifted away from the knife without drawing it. He could see a figure swaying in the distance, as disturbingly inconsistent in its movements as the one he had killed before.
Jerking and shimmering, the Devouring Fiend closed the distance between it and its presumed prey with the unnatural swiftness Trent had observed the last time. This Fiend stared at Trent’s upraised and empty palm as Trent began murmuring under his breath.
“Firebolt?” It croaked, in a chilling whisper, “You underestimate…”
“Firebolt!"
The chant for a Level 1 Spell of the first tier was distressingly long. The Fiend had time to mock Trent as he tried his new Spell. It had no fear of such meager magic. It sniffed at the air, identifying Trent’s actions and savoring the scent of his blood and pain. If it had had eyes, the Fiend's would have grown large at the sight of the flame that burst from Trent’s palm.
White with intensity, two feet long, and filling the tunnel with its width, the Firebolt in no way resembled a tier-one Spell cast by a low-level Basic Mage. The air sizzled, and the mist swirling on the floor evaporated as the magic slammed into the Fiend. It flew backward, the scraps of cloth that covered it burning, and flames tore into its emaciated body.
“Fire Manipulation and Heart of the Inferno,” Trent calmly explained. “I may have used too much. I overestimated you.”
Watching the Fiend shriek while being consumed, Trent found one thing bothersome. “What kind of Trial Beast talks before it attacks? Are all these ugly things Minor Guardians?”
“Current Beasts on fifth floor supplied by potential Keepers’ home dimension,” the Trial Spirits voice sounded directly in Trent’s ear to be heard over the wails of the dying Fiend. “They are not truly part of the Trial and may act outside of parameters. This is not a warning and does not break the rules.”
The Spirit seemed to be in a hurry to explain itself. Trent merely nodded and reached up to rub his tender shoulder. Still not healed completely, he would have to avoid using it as much as he was able.
“Blood and ash.” He grimaced as his fingers touched an area that was still misshapen. He let his hand fall away, and he spoke quietly to himself, “Sorrow and Strife were the beginning.”
He looked around at the floor of the tunnel. Mist covered everything. Trent swept his feet around, moving to the area where he had fallen. Glass tinkled, breaking into smaller pieces as he kicked it aside. He found but didn’t pick up his sword, which had become a twisted hunk of metal. The enchantments that allowed it to become a ring were broken. Trent contin
ued sweeping the floor with his feet. A satisfied smile broke out on Trent lips as his boots connected with a heavy object, concealed under the ever-present fog.
“Blood and Ash, an ending for most,” Trent bent and picked up the short swords that Ghost had thrown at him before sending Trent back to this pit, “but it was in blood and ash that the Dusk Wraiths were born.”
Trent couldn’t say how he knew. It might have been the comparison to the knives on his hips. The flicker of Mana he sent into the swords to bind them came a second before he Appraised them.
Short swords: Blood and Ash
Paired Rare Items/Excellent Quality
Soul-bound/ Will grow with user
Damage +75
When wielding Ash alone, user’s speed will increase by 10%
When wielding Blood alone, user has a 5% chance to absorb Health equal to 3% of Damage inflicted.
When used together, Speed will increase by 15% and user has a 5% chance to absorb Health equal to 5% of Damage inflicted.
Swords for a Swordsman. The blades were already superior to his knives in almost every respect. Moonlight Banishes Shadows would compensate for the loss of the ability to channel Spells into his weapons. The added speed would be an edge he needed for facing Fiends and their unpredictable stride. The health-absorbing effect was nice, though a little too uncertain to be counted on.
