Meeting with Macias and slowly walking back to the room we talk about what type of weapons our spirit weapons will be. It seems clear his choice will be entirely based on appearance. For me on the other hand I have no idea. I have always had misgivings about killing despite never hesitating and knowing that it was necessary in the forest so I want them to ideally be weapons that can be used either to kill or protect myself but not kill. I need to decide on three, a melee weapon, midrange weapon and a long ranged weapon.

For a melee ranged weapon, the beat choice would be something like a club but that would be too heavy, so I have no idea. For a midrange weapon, I know I would go for some kind of sling because that is what I am best with and it fulfils my requirements. Finally, for a long ranged weapon, for lack of a better option at the moment I am forced to go for a bow.

Crawling into my bed I toss down a quick cordon of arrows. The mental strain from the action taxes my brain enough to drain me of conciousness until tomorrow...

The next morning, I awoke with the sun as always. I could hear little movement in the building or outside, nor did I expect to. In the city, I found most people wake up quite late. This was fine by me I still had to wonder about my choice. Without the help of a mage it would be impossible to break the soul bond enchantment on the weapons. It was only because a few mages owed their lives to the ranger’s guild that it could get the enchantments in the first place.

I wander through the halls towards the eating room now taking in the rest of the hallway. Several maps sat in frames on the wood and stone patchwork walls. They were among the oil lamps and the odd works of art that made up for the buildings lack of windows, clearly a result of the guild being situated primarily bordering the city wall and the buildings on the street.

I reach the breakfast hall see the fire pits from the second trial were blocked in by what is probably the stack of firewood we used. The table had been moved to take up a central position in the hall and is occupied by at least five people from the voices I hear. “So who do you think did the best.”

“The angry one with the black hair, Nathanial. He showed ruthless resourcefulness that is always useful with our least savoury work.” I felt slightly annoyed by that. Nathanial, as I now knew he was called had clearly underestimated me for being smaller than him and never had any real skill.

“I think we can say my son did the best, even accounting from my obvious bias.” I stop. I know she was a ranger but I didn’t realise she would be a part of the process. I listen a little longer.

“I would agree that he was the best individually but being raised in the middle of the woods was in no way good for his teamwork. Both, the croft sisters and the two from the year before last did better in that regard.

“If the tasks were even a challenge for him he would probably have been more willing to team up with the others. I think he is probably here by now anyway.” I see some shadows move on the wall near the entrance to the room and my mother’s voice call me in. I enter.

“good morning.” I say. They each respond with their own greeting as I take a bowl of a ranger stew. I take a spoon full and notice that someone had added their own twist to the recipes I have tried. It is almost as good as my father’s, almost. I look around at those gathered at the table. They include the clerk from the entrance, the muscle-bound ranger from the food trial, the small older ranger from the first trial, my mother and a blonde stranger with bushy eyebrows set in a permanent dark scowl that contrasts his otherwise pale complexion.

They mostly seem to be responding well to my presence. “I am going to be helping with the choice of weapons today. you should probably not refer to me as mother. That would leave bad impressions. Understood” she smiles at me. I nod in response and turn to the muscle-bound ranger. “so what kind of weapon are you hoping for?”

“A 160 pound draw longbow with arrows for 25, 30 and 35 inch draw so I can get some extra out of it if needed, for the long range and a sling, probably the adaptable split end slings they use in the southern mountain kingdoms, for the mid-range weapon. I have no idea for the melee.” I respond.

To my amazement, the blonde ranger begins to look even more angry. “With arms like his there is no way he could use that bow and a sling, seriously, that is basically a toy! Go for the smaller 60 pound bows and some knives or something.”

The old man speaks up in my defence. “the boy clearly knows what he is doing. Let him demonstrate that he can use his weapons properly and we can give them to him.”

“Thankyou.” I nod to the old man.

For about another hour we hold idle conversation until the various prospective rangers trickle into the hall for breakfast. They talk in excited whispers amongst themselves. One or two ask about my choice and I answer in the same way as I did with the instructors. They offer some advice on possible choices on the short ranged weapons but it didn’t help.

As Macias finally sits next to me the angry instructor clears his throat loudly to call us to attention. “Good morning. We are here on the final part of the trials. We are here to help you come to a reasonable decision in regards to your choice of soul blades” he glares at me during his short speech. The old man steps forwards. “with that in mind, lets go to the toybox. Follow me” and we do.

Crossing the entire length of the ranger’s guild and entering a cellar, we step out into a simple room. The walls are lined with weapons of all description and their training counter parts. There is also a simple sandpit with a sparing circle and some targets at one end. Probably to try out said weapons. “we will first decide on our shorter ranged weapons and move to the bows later. They need farther targets than we can fit in here. LET’S GET STARTED!” with the exception of myself and Macias everyone starts to run about swinging various things around to get a feel for them. Most already knew the general type of weapon they would choose and are just testing out the specifics. Macias was just looking around. He would always gravitate to the best-looking sets of equipment despite that annoying instructor telling him over and over again to go for something more practical. I am glad that he was asked by the black-haired boy for help which he gladly provided. Surprisingly, I feel he has redeemed himself.

I don’t browse. I just walk straight for the slings and pick up the exact one I want. It is a woven rope that flattens out in the centre like those used by the southern mountain kingdom’s (look up the Incan slings for image that is what I am picturing.) but this one is reinforced by thin strips of metal and leather. It has a slit in the larger part of the sling that allows the stone to escape the pouch in the event of a sudden increase in pressure but this is stiff enough to prevent the stone from leafing when the momentum is being built up in preparation. I place a single stone in the end and with a single swing send the stone whizzing through the air and leaving a dent in the wooden supports behind the bullseye of the target. This is perfect.

For my melee soul blade, I look around and my eyes fall on something I never even considered: a set of arm guards. They are pieces of armour but will easily enhance punches elbow strikes and backhand fists whilst leaving the possibility of open hand fighting. Most importantly, they offer protection from strikes as well. I approach and pick them up. They are well made and forged from a strange but clearly strong alloy. They are mostly undecorated and yet beautiful. The only flair being a circle with four simple leaf patterns fanning out from the centre. Unlike some of the weapons in the armoury these seem unmarred. I rub some loose sand from the pattern and to my surprise it turns causing a short blade to spring out of the end of the foremost plate and a sharp ridge to appear along the outside of the arm guard. This would easily be deadly. I notice some boots as well, also reinforced by plates of the same alloy. They also have the pattern on them. I turn it and spikes appear on the soles whilst blades appear on the front and back. I turn the pattern the other way and all the blades retract leaving simple reinforced arm and footwear. I grab both and string them on my new sling which I tie around my waist like a belt. I am the first to have made my choices.

The next two are the two boys that took the initiative in the stealth challenge. The last to finish is Macias. The two boys both got identical sets of darts and daggers, the black haired boy got a short sword and set of throwing knives, the three girls got a mace and atiati, a whip and shuriken and a double bladed shortsword with throwing axe respectively. It was an odd set of choices but who was I to question. Macias ended up with a flute I asume was modified to function as a blowpipe and a set of fancy blades, more decrative than useful but absolutely beautiful.

“now one last choice. Follow me.” It is my mother’s voice and we begin to leave. Our last stop is just outside the city walls. I notace some targets and a man in magician robes holding a book. Arround us are a collection of bows with scuff marks revealing they have been placed here recently. “hand your choices to the magician and then choose the bow you would like to use.” The magician ushers us to place the equipment arround him in s certain patern. We comply. He mutters a chant. Chants can be bypassed with consequences to the strength of the spell. In this case the chant is short. We are asked to place our hands on the blades and as we do he sends a small jolt of arcane energy through them. I notace that I can feel the location of my soul bound weapons. I flex my hands and imagine them appearin in place, pulling on the feeling. They appear, the sling tied to my waist and the new boots and armguards on my hands and feet. A few of the instructors and the magician show mild shock but move on. We each grab a bow and fire it. it is clear who is struggling and who is not. Our angry instructor huffs at my bullseye that blows a hole through the target and burrys deep in the ground behind. Not long after we have our bows soul bound in the same way as the rest.

We are all given the option to join the rangers and all but myself and Macias accept. We have other plans…