Kieran shot up into a sitting position when he awoke. The flurry of movement disoriented him, along with the sudden noise of hundreds of miniature ice shards falling to the ground. He looked down to see his bedding was completely frozen.
His gaze then turned to his nightstand. Last Breath lay there, while Defiant Aphelion leaned against the small table. Looking down at his bracelet, he saw that its usual, black-hole like visage had returned.
Kieran let out a long sigh of relief and fell back into his bed.
Staring at the ceiling, his thoughts quickly returned to the battlefield he had been in just a moment ago. It certainly didn’t feel good to have his rest hijacked by one of the gods. Still, facing another Contender in a straight-up fight, martial skill versus martial skill, left him strangely satisfied.
The fight had gotten a little too close for his liking, but that was to be expected. Fahn’Ir had served as Fahra’Uhn’s first Contender. That meant she was an ancient warrior. Meanwhile, Kieran had maybe a decade of fencing practice and about two weeks of combat experience with swords. The only reason for his victory was that his desperation had been greater than her resolve.
But in the end, it didn’t matter. He won, she lost. Fahra’Uhn was impressed enough to invite Kieran to the vault.
He wondered what the god of Strife would offer him as a token of favor, if anything. It seemed very much their style not to give something, if only to inspire someone into seeking out more Strife.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Kieran sat up again. This day was beginning to look rather full, so he put together a brief plan.
First, and simplest, he called on his skill screen to check if his meditation had led to a new skill.




General: Recall II
Domain of Death: Mend / Maim, Form of Death (Advanced)
Domain of Defiance: Shield Counter
Total: 1000 essence




An upgraded Form of Death, eh?
Kieran tapped the skill, opening up its description.




Form of Death (Advanced)
Take on the Form of Death to move unhindered to a position within sight. Energy spent is proportional to distance travelled.
Any creature the caster passes through is drained of their life force, healing the caster.
A facet beheld, a facet granted. You reach further beyond, Contender, yet there is still so much to see.




Kieran dismissed the screen, satisfied with what he saw. Anything that gave him more offensive options through defensive actions was an excellent addition to his arsenal.
Next, he planned to visit Eon’s Vault. While Rah’Na claimed that Alaric would be useful in the days to come, he thought that giving the elf some more time to settle in would be a good idea. Besides, no one liked being bothered in the morning.
Gods didn’t count, of course.
Kieran wrangled himself out of bed to the noise of thin ice cracking. While going through his morning motions, he couldn’t help but feel a little paranoid. He half-expected the howling of wind to start any second. When it didn’t, he let out another sigh of relief.
Retrieving his weapons, Kieran thought to check Last Breath’s gear screen. After all, he had slain another ‘great foe.’ The bone amalgam qualified as such, at least in his eyes.




Last Breath
A gift from me to you, my Chosen Contender. May you wield it with grace and intent.
Lesser Foes Slain: 4 goblins, 1 gnoll, 1 boar-man, 4 skeletons, 1 Nahra’Drun elf
Greater Foes Slain: Broken Tusk, Indomitable Berserker; Bone Amalgam
Weapon-Bound Skill:
Death’s Arm – Extend the dagger’s reach by conjuring a blade of ice, effectively making it a shortsword.




Well, I was right… but no new weapon-bound skill, Kieran mused as he finished getting ready. Either each weapon only gets one, or I will need more greater foes…
Leaving his room, he found Rah’Na in the common area, sitting by the fireplace with a book.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
He slipped into the second seat by the fireplace. “Morning.”
“Dawn’s greeting, Kieran,” Rah’na replied, setting her book aside. Curious, Kieran tried to sneak a glance at its title, but it seemed to be unmarked. “Did you sleep well?”
“Not in the least. Fahra’Uhn paid me a visit.”
Rah’Na raised an eyebrow in response. He gave her a detailed account of what had happened in his dream, from start to finish. The old wolf listened intently to the entire story, without giving any comments or betraying a change in her expression.
When Kieran was done, Rah’Na simply turned to look at the fireplace. She didn’t speak for a while. The crackling of flame held the silence at bay as Kieran waited for the old wolf’s reaction.
“Fahn’Ir… now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a long, long time.” Rah’Na rubbed the wrist of her left hand gently. “How I wish I could have witnessed that fight firsthand.”
“You know her?” Kieran prodded.
Rah’Na’s guarded expression cracked to show… nostalgia.
“She was a good friend, back when I was a Contender.” Rah’Na’s tone was wistful. “Hah, she was my mentor, like I am to you now. When that invasion ended, she left. I’d wondered all this time whether she was still alive. Being summoned to fight you could mean she is still out there, somewhere.”
Kieran was somewhat taken aback. It really struck him, then, just how ancient was the foe he had fought.
He found himself thankful that Fahra’Uhn had apparently leveled the playing field. Not only had the god deprived both fighters of their magic, but Kieran had received a weapon to balance his opponent’s strength and experience. In a no-holds-barred combat, Kieran was certain he would’ve been dead in seconds.
“I know what you are thinking Kieran,” Rah’Na said softly. “And yes, Fahra’Uhn did make the fight fair. You were two fighters, with only wits and strength to serve you. This does not minimize your victory, though. Even if Fahn’Ir was disarmed, and probably holding back, she was the deadliest warrior I have ever known. You won the fight through a desperate strike, but she should have anticipated that.”
Kieran thought back over the fight, realizing quickly that Fahn’Ir had gone easy on him. He had left himself exposed to counters too many times. If his opponent had chosen to kick instead of pin him down, or extend her combos by just a couple punches, the outcome likely would have been different.
But that was in the past now. In the future, he would have to put in more effort to cover the gaps in his defenses. But at least he had won when it mattered.
“So, shall we head to the gate then?” he asked, after a minute of contemplative silence.
“Yes… yes we shall.” Rah’Na stood and started for the door. “I have a question for Fahra’Uhn, myself.”
Kieran had never seen Rah’Na so fired up before. He could barely keep up with her as the pair made their way through the settlement, reaching the Vault in record time.
Rah’Na paused at the threshold and spoke in a commanding tone.
“Go first.”
Kieran complied without a word and stepped into the yard. The moment his foot crossed the threshold, three of the circles adorning the gate lit up. There were the previous two, with the addition of the leftmost circle. It gleamed with blood-red energy as echoes of desperate screams and combat rang through Kieran’s mind.
That same blood-red energy emerged from the ground at the center of the yard, at the very spot where Kieran had been granted a weapon in the dream. The energy coalesced into a crystalline hand, holding an object locked in a vice grip.
As Kieran approached, the grip loosened and revealed the item. It was a necklace, crafted entirely out of ruby and decorated with the sigil of a man crawling with a saber in his back. Beneath the crystal’s surface ran veins of fire, much like what ran under Fahra’Uhn’s crystalline skin.
Kieran reached out carefully and took the necklace. The hand immediately retreated back into the ground. The next moment, a new gear screen popped up.




Dead Man’s Promise
Once, a warrior vowed that he would return home. He bound his soul to a necklace and gave himself to Strife. When he returned home, his body was long dead. But his soul lives on.
Now he serves all those worthy of Strife. A promise to see them home.
Lesser Foes Slain: None in your service, Contender.
Greater Foes Slain: Your battles are yet to come, and I will be watching.




Kieran dismissed the screen, wondering how exactly a necklace could be used to ‘slay’ anything. The item’s story implied that it contained a soul, which he could probably unleash, if only he knew how. But that was a problem for later.
Stepping out of the yard, Kieran placed the item around his neck. Rah’Na watched him closely. Her eyes were locked on the necklace.
“Unconventional, as far as weaponry goes, but just as effective as anything else,” she said, her voice tempered. “It will take some getting used to. We can practice.”
“Yes… that would be good. I have no idea where to even start with it.”
“Soul weapons. A specialty of Strife,” Rah’Na explained as she turned towards the gate. “And speaking of…”
The old wolf took one massive step into the yard. The entire peak shook as enormous amounts of energy churned through the air. Eight circles on the gate lit up, the stone door vibrating from the sheer amount of energy flowing through it.
Rah’Na strode to the middle of the yard, squaring her shoulders and standing to her full, terrifying height.
“FAHRA’UHN! I call you to speak!”
The flow of energy in the yard calmed for a moment. Then the light emanating from the red circle intensified as the other seven circles dimmed. The flow shifted, now moving outwards from the gate. In seconds, the ethereal red energy formed into a crystalline body, sculpting the same figure Kieran had seen in his dream.
“It has been a few centuries, Celestial Spear.” Fahra’Uhn voice rumbled like a rousing volcano. “You have my attention, as ever. Speak freely.”
“Fahn’Ir, first of your Chosen! Does she live?” Rah’Na roared her question at the god.
Raucous laughter, like debris launched by an eruption, shook the peak once again. “Do you truly believe this world capable of slaying her, Celestial Spear? A grave insult indeed.”
“And where is she?” Rah’Na demanded.
The peak fell silent as the god and wolf stared at each other.
“She travels with her new pupil, my latest Chosen. The first and last, carving a path.” Fahra’Uhn’s voice was a lava flow, settling and cooling. “Where exactly, it is not my place to say. That is a road you must find, Celestial Spear.”
Rah’Na waved a dismissive hand at the giant of crystal and flame before her, growling as she turned away. “Very well.”
Without another word, the torrent of energy calmed. Fahra’Uhn’s form disintegrated. Eon’s Peak fell quiet once again.
With a heavy, frustrated sigh, Rah’Na stopped at the threshold beside Kieran. “All these centuries, and she couldn’t stop by the mountain even once to talk. Bah.”
Kieran said nothing. He just watched as Rah’Na took deep breaths, her expression calming with every exhale.
“Apologies. I didn’t mean to…” Rah’Na cut herself off. “I am certain she had her reasons. I cannot pass judgment without knowing the full story.”
Kieran simply nodded. His silence seemed to help Rah’Na cool down.
A few moments later, she continued, “Fahra’Uhn’s stubbornness is legendary. I couldn’t have gotten more out of him if we argued for centuries. But I can’t leave the peak. Not now, when there are people to be protected.”
Taking one more deep breath, she turned to face him. “I know it’s not my place to ask, Kieran, but… could you look for her? When you’re out there? Of course, the Pale Watchers remain a priority, but…”
“I owe you much more than that, Rah’Na,” Kieran interrupted, giving the old wolf a genuine smile. “Of course I will, Celestial Spear.”
Rah’Na huffed, turning away with a look of pure annoyance. “Don’t you start. Come now, let’s see Alaric.”