Wind whipped around Ethan as he swung the burning axe in his left hand sliced through the air, catching Torag in the arm. An upward slash with his frozen right axe slammed into his opponents armored side. Where the weapon impacted, frost grew across the metal ring mail. Torag howled in pain and stumbled back under Ethan's rapid onslaught.

Seeing his opportunity, Ethan leapt over Torag landing behind him. The impact of his feet caused a line of jagged rocks to erupt forward, throwing Torag to the ground.

“Yield!” His friend’s voice was muffled by his face being in the dirt floor of the sparring ring. Off to the side War Shaman Hertha and Siv lightly clapped and chuckled at Ethan’s performance. He spread his arms in a dramatic flourish and bowed. A wide grin on his face as he rose.

“It seems the young Shaman has beaten you again.” Hertha turned and looked at Siv. “Was that five rounds in a row, granddaughter?”

“I think your age is begging to show again, grandmother. I counted six.” She said, winking at Ethan.

“Maybe if I had the blessings of all four elements on my side it wouldn’t be such an unfair fight.” Torag grumbled, having risen from the ground and was busy dusting the dirt from his armor. “I think it’s your turn next, Siv.”

Ethan smiled to himself but said nothing. He’d managed to commune with the Vættr of Wind in only two afternoons of meditation using a similar tactic as he had with water. Miguel has been his representation of that Vættr. His in game reward had been several very useful abilities that buffed his weapon attacks with elemental damage that would last for an hour before needing to be reapplied, along with a passive blessing from the wind that increased his attack speed.

The bonus side effect was that by coming into balance with the four elements inside of him, he felt lighter than he ever had. His anger and rage were not omnipresent in the back of his heart that he’d been feeling without even realizing it. When he got home, he hoped he could find a way to remember how he felt at this moment and hold onto it.

“I think it’s time for a break actually. Sorry has been training all morning with you two and I think it’s my turn with him.” Hertha said, sarcastically apologetic.

“Yeah, Torag is starting to look tired. He didn’t land a single blow that time.” Ethan teased his companion. “I think he needs a rest.”

He was rewarded for his joke with a half full water skin splashing over his back, to the great amusement of the two women watching.

“I want to start by saying how proud of you I am of the connections you have made in the last few days. I wasn’t sure how long it would take you, especially after the length of time it took to commune with the Spirit of Water.” Hertha said after they had returned from a quick lunch to her long house.

Ethan was seated in his usual place on the floor near the brazier. The diagram she’d etched into the dirt the first day he’d met with her was now almost completely faded. Only the barest impressions of the crossed lines were still visible in the dirt floor.

“Thank you Elder.” Ethan bowed his head respectfully in gratitude.

“You’ve more than earned what little praise I can give right now.” She said kneeling down.

Ethan watched as she refreshed the etching of the symbols of Fire, Earth, Air and Water.

“Now,” she said, wiping the dust from her hands. “By this point you know that the four elemental spirits work to balance each other out. Water and Fire, Earth and Air.” Ethan nodded in understanding.

“But through the Vættr of Life they also compliment each other.” Hertha drew a circle in the middle of the diagram at the intersection of the lines, “But not just the opposing elements. The Spirit of Life, or anima as some call it, unites the rest of the Elemental Spirits and creates harmony.”

“So more meditation is what you’re saying?” As elated as he’d been after creating the last bond with the Spirit of Air, Ethan was now disheartened. For a Fighter class quest, he’d done significantly less actual fighting than he’d thought he would. He suspected his weapon proficiencies had all increased from his morning training, but it seemed to him like a big finale was missing. An epic conclusion to his class questline.

“Not exactly.” Hertha frowned at him. “The Trial of Life is unique to each supplicant.”

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“Exactly that. What my Trial was is completely different than what yours will be. More than that I cannot say.” She reached out and out her hand on his shoulder. “It will be challenging, but you’ve shown me that you will be able to get through the challenge.”

Ethan sat up straighter, proud that she had such faith in him.

“When I do start the Trial?”

“Tomorrow.” She said, nodding at him. “You and I will leave at dawn. I would recommend you rest tonight, there is no telling when you’ll have a chance to do that again. For some the Trial can last weeks.”

Weeks? I’ve already been gone for almost two weeks. It didn’t take me nearly this long to finish my Paladin subquest. If this takes weeks to finish, the extra time we gained by leveling in The Tower will be lost and we’ll be hella behind on getting to join the Raid Clan.

Hertha could see by his furrowed eyebrows the concern on his face.

“Most people only take a few days, very few take longer than a week.” She said, trying to be helpful.

It didn’t comfort him nearly as much as she’d hoped. Ethan couldn’t help but think about the difficulty he’d had with the Spirit of Water as he left the long house. If he was supposed to be understanding the harmony between the elements and the Spirit of Life, he feared he would be one of the few that took weeks to complete the trial.

“The old lady dismissed you then?” Siv leaned casually against the wooden column decorated with symbols of fire when Ethan left Hertha’s longhouse a few minutes later.

“Yeah, she said I have the Trial tomorrow and to take the night off.” Ethan shook his head.

“So what’re you going to do with your free afternoon?”

“Not sure, probably sleep.” He shrugged. Since he’d first arrived in Skaro, his time had been spent either training or meditating. The only people he knew were Siv, Torag and the War Shaman. He wasn’t even sure what to do with ‘downtime’ in the town.

“Sleep when you’re dead. Follow me.” She said coyly and turned to walk away from him and back into the village.

“Where are we going?” He asked, falling into step with her.

“That’s a surprise.” Her smile was mischievous as she led him down the main path of the village.

Since he’d arrived in Skaro, Ethan had mainly stayed around the War Shaman’s long house. Even the small shack he had slept in was near Hertha’s home. He’d been able to hear the day to day sounds coming from the town, but hadn’t actually seen much.

Larger evergreen trees grew sporadically amidst the wood and stone buildings. Clearly some had to have been leveled to make way for people to live, but overall the trees gave the town a very natural appearance. Just like when he’d first arrived, children played happily as adults tended to their business.

“You just giving me a silent tour?” Ethan asked after several minutes of walking without exchanging words. “Because I have to say that just makes you a bad tour guide.”

“I didn’t know I was here for your entertainment.” She laughed as she spoke. “I have a quick errand and then I will explain more to you.”

Ethan nodded and continued walking with her in silence.

It didn’t take long for Siv to stop in front of a decently sized tannery. The man inside sat at a large table, a needle in his hand as he worked on something Ethan couldn’t see. The fumes wafting from the building caused Ethan’s eyes to water and he nearly gagged.

“Good afternoon, Gistal.” Siv’s voice contained a great deal of forced cordiality as she greeted the tanner.

“Good afternoon, Horrisdottir.” Gistal said without looking up. He clearly did not want to be interrupted in his current project. “It’s not ready.”

Siv pursed her lips at his brusk greeting.

“You told me it would be ready today.” She said, crossing her arms.

Ethan wasn’t so blind that he couldn’t see there was some animosity between Siv and Gistal, though he had no idea why. Not that he had any knowledge of Siv’s relationship with anyone outside of Torag and her grandmother.

“I said tonight. It’s not night yet.” Gistal frowned at her from his work table, having finally set down his needle and the leather he’d been working.

“What time tonight should I come back?” Siv asked, clearly frustrated.

“Tomorrow afternoon.” The tall tanner answered, scowling at her. “You asked for something much more difficult than I had originally expected it to be.”

“That is unacceptable!” Siv dropped her arms to her side, clenching her fists. Ethan could tell she was trying to calm her anger.

“You asked for something extremely complicated.” Gistal began defending himself. “I gave you an estimate of how long it would take, and I was wrong. There’s nothing I can do to rush this process.”

“Ethan, give us a second.” Siv turned towards him, fury radiating in every feature of her face.

“Umm.. yeah,” He stuttered, “I’ll just go over there.” Ethan gestured behind him, unsure of where exactly he would go.

“Thanks, this won’t take long.”

Ethan casually strolled back down the road, now that he wasn't trying to follow Siv he took his time, paying attention to the various buildings around him. A large tavern with raucous laughter coming from inside caught his attention. Why shouldn’t I get a drink? I bet the beer here is great.

He started walking towards the door before he remembered that he hadn’t brought any gold with him. Part of the questline restrictions had limited his access to his inventory. Longer and more intricate quests in The Tower occasionally did that to “preserve the immersion of the game”.

“Well shit.” Ethan swore to himself in annoyance. Looking around to see if Siv was back on her way to join him he saw a stone arch rising above a very small grassy hill not far from the tavern. Instinctively, he felt pulled to climb the mound and see what was at the top.

Reaching the summit, he saw that the arch wasn’t carved or built. Instead it looked like the earth itself had grown the dark and twisted marble in the shape of an arch. On the ground were two massive stone tablets with glowing letters. A small bowl of incense sat at the top of each tablet, but only one was currently burning, the sweet smell was strangely comforting.

Ethan slowly walked towards one of the tablets, instinctively, he had an idea of what this monument was dedicated to and the reverence it would deserve. He didn’t need to bend down to read the words that had been carved and enchanted, the runes were large enough to see from a standing height. Scanning them quickly, he could see that names had been etched into the stone. The name “Ivald Eiriksson” stood out at him near the bottom of the tablet on the left, confirming his suspicion.

War Shaman Hertha Korisdottir had erected this monument in honor of the men and women who had been lost in the battle with the demon lord who’d attacked their former home. Ivald Eiriksson was her husband who had gone with her to push back the demon

Kneeling at the foot of the monument, Ethan closed his eyes in respect. He didn’t know any of the people who were honored here, but he understood the impact of their deaths. Torag’s less than warm reception, Hertha’s hesitance at taking apprentices before him, the isolated nature of the town in general. All of it was because of the loss of so many lives.

“I’m not surprised you found your way here.” Siv had quietly walked up and kneeled beside him. “The Vættr of Life blessed this sacred place. It must have called out to you.”

“How many names are inscribed here?” Ethan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Three thousand, seven hundred, and forty-two.” Siv responded, reaching forward to touch her grandfather’s name. “It’s not just the names of the people who followed them to fight, this is a memorial to everyone who died in Skarlheim when Azamon appeared. Men, women and children.”

A cool breeze extinguished the remaining incense, taking with it the sweet smell. Ethan leaned forward and flicked his hand, two small sparks leapt off his fingers and reignited the aromatic bundles. A minor gift from the Spirit of Fire.

“Thank you.” Siv wiped a tear from her face. “Everyday, the people of Skaro give thanks for the sacrifice of those who died so we may live. We live, laugh, fight in their honor.”

“Ethan,” she turned her head to face him. “What is it you fight for?”

“My family.” He didn’t hesitate in answering her question. He was trapped in a place he didn’t belong and he wanted to get home. He wanted to return to his family. Ethan would do whatever it took to make that happen.

“Then hold on to them. Let them be your strength. Just as they,” she paused, waving her hand over the monument “are the people of Skaro’s”.

“Now,” she said, rising to her feet and clapping him on the back, “tomorrow you have the Trial. Tonight, we should celebrate and relax. First round is on me.”

“Yeah,” Ethan groaned as he got to his own feet “you may have to get the second round too. I forgot my money.”