Darkness shall be cleaved by a blade that sheds a pure and unyielding light. The world will be embraced by that radiance, and no more shall the dark threaten nor harm us. With light in ourselves and swords in hand, this can be done. We are the will of Illumin.

-A passage from Will of the Light

“You think this is going to stop me?” Alric yelled out to the open air, his only response to the question was the rustling of countless leaves. “By the awoken in the beyond, you will regret doubting me.”

He grunted in effort as he reached for the next handhold carved into the wood, sweat rolled down his back and soaked into his clothing. A dull ache began to permeate his arms as he pulled himself upward. The weight of his quarterstaff on his back become more noticeable as he progressed. I was not expecting to get this close to the tree so soon, especially not in this manner. He thought feeling slightly amused.

Around him, the large branches of the Tree of Duality loudly creaked as a breeze moved through its verdant domain. The movement of cold air felt refreshing as it brushed against him.

Continuing to move up he recalled his awe at seeing the network of lifts going up into the tree. Then his resulting journey up to it and the sparse exchanges he shared with the representative overseeing him, who simply introduced himself as Barton. A bitter and sarcastic old adventurer who did not seem to like Alric.

Barton took some time, to his distaste, to briefly explain that the league veterans who administered tests all had their versions. No one test existed for the process of attaining an official adventuring title. Bartos said the outrider exams were difficult; however, his test was especially vicious.

Throughout the trip up to exam’s start, Barton did nothing but vaguely comment on the trials awaiting Alric and how the threat of death was real. He emphasized that if he wanted, Alric could turn around if “he was too cowardly to face such danger.”

A bell tolled in the background, reminding Alric how Bartos, upon arriving at their destination, tersely stated that the test was timed. Twenty sounds of the bell, that was how long he had to finish the test.

It seemed obvious that Barton wanted to discourage him. Instead, it had an opposite effect, Alric felt a strong determination to overcome that doubt and the first obstacle to present itself. When he left the platform Alric hastily began climbing, focused on

My resolve will not waver, I will become an adventurer. He glanced up at the long trail of marked wood than at the larger expanse of the tree still beyond it, No matter how far I have to go.

The trail of indents he was using to scale the tree appeared to lead to an entrance into the tree itself. He did not have much further to go to reach the next portion of the test.

Pausing, he glanced back to the platform he had left only a few moments ago. The distance caused his head to slightly spin, remembering the snide words spoken by the obnoxious League representative, “Try not to slip or you will have a long way to fall. There is a wide net below us to catch you, but a few do miss.” As Barton spoke a sneer was plastered across his face.

After several strenuous moments of climbing, he reached the ledge into the tree, a room brightly lit by hardlight greeted Alric.

Turning his head back to the League hub. He took a moment to watch the lifts going to and from it, to Alric they were an impressive feat of construction. The view of Eventide itself was magnificent from his viewpoint and allowed him to see a large section of the city.

From the distance the deep sound of a bell rang, shaking him from the short reprieve.

Quickly turning to the room behind him, Alric strode into it.

Three doorways greeted him from three different directions. The middle door was closed while the other two remained open and seemed to lead into a hallway.

The middle door caught Alric’s attention, pausing to examine it. On its wooden surface were intricately carved and colored images of two hooded robed figures, along with symbols relating to them. Both were differently designed from each other and provided an intimidating and powerful visage. Each of them pointed to one of the doorways.

At the top was the hooded figure with one big hand raised out to sky it could only see. It's other pointed to the left entrance within the room. The robes it wore were stark white, radiant within the light that shone upon it. Behind its hooded head emerged flames that licked at the sun etched into the wood above it, the fires were colored a vibrant red and orange. It resembled a figure of authority and power. From Alric’s view, the features appeared more domineering, as if it was looking down on him.

Toward the bottom of the door was the hooded figure etched into a morbid display. With a slender body and robes inked in a dark black, tendrils of darkness slithered from the hood. The engraved image nearly seemed to move. A thin finger pointed to the entrance located to the right of it, and in the other bony hand, it held a thin sword. An image that provided seethed projected a vicious and sinister aura. Eyes he could not see bore deep into his being.

Ah, to think an image of them both would be here, Illumin and The Shroud. No sign of the third. Alric clenched his fists at the thought. While playing your games are you both watching me? With a deep breath, he turned to the left doorway and swiftly strode into it. Unlike the room behind him, the hallway was barely lit. As he moved, Alric could hear the faint rhythmic sound of something metallic moving. The noise came from somewhere behind the walls.

As he entered the new room another tolling of the bell rang, only sixteen remained.

Alric emerged into a long and wide-open room. It was dimly lit by the shards of hardlight lining the walls.

Before him was a pathway raised above pools of water located on each side. A sizable wall blocked the path, appearing to prevent any progress, and behind it, Alric could see another peering over.

Throughout the room echoed the soft trickle and splashing of moving water, it was a soothing ambiance.

Walking forward he approached the wall, a smooth and polished surface gleamed back at him. He spotted a few small depressions high up on the wall and they were farther up than he could jump. The thought of more climbing caused his arms to twinge.

This must be for those who use luminescence. Too bad I do not have access to that right now.

He then heard the whisper of air, glancing to the bottom of the wall he spotted an opening. Hollow? Moving to the edge of the pathway he peered alongside the wall. Does not seem too thick, it should be safe to phase through it.

Breathing in deeply he concentrated his thoughts on the gloom around him, incoherent voices began whispering. Darkness from within the wall, the surrounding room, and his own shadow moved toward him. Streaming along the ground like flowing water.

His body instantly felt lightweight as it transformed into an ethereal mist. Alric walked to the wall and began to merge his being into solid matter. It was a process that always felt like he was swimming through a thick sludge, one where he constantly felt in danger of drowning. He quickly passed through the wall and emerged into a small dark room.

Moving toward the center of the space, rings of light began to form out from it, they slightly pulsed with power.

When they reached the wall a sudden loud click resounded within the chamber. Following the sound arose the rhythm of turning gears, panels on the walls slid down revealing bright slabs of hardlight.

The light burned, searing hot pain shot through him as the mist dissipated. Within his head, the whispers abruptly were silenced. His mind felt blank, it was void of any coherent thoughts. After a few short moments, his vision returned from being streaked with white light.

More sounds of turning gears interrupted the silence accompanied by the creak of wood.

With his visioned restored Alric scanned the room, now painted with radiant white light. A new addition was present within the small chamber. It was a hole in the floor with a ladder leading down it.

Peering down into it he could see a faint glow of light. Those who built this must have enjoyed themselves. He mused, marveling at the effort involved in both designing and constructing such a room within the tree. Then glanced back up at the walls surrounding him. I could try phasing. He pondered, then felt himself wince at the idea. But the idea of avoiding excruciating pain sounds appealing.

Once he climbed down the ladder Alric found himself in a space with stone tiles for flooring, a large wooden statue dominated the center. The only visible entrance was the opening he came down from. From a distance, the peal of the bell sounded once more.

Swiftly he moved to examine the statue. It was a carving of three figures, one knelt in the middle while two others loomed over it on each side.

The figure in the middle was portrayed as defeated and without hope. It wore long robes. They spilled out as smooth wooden ripples around it. No features were carved onto the wooden being’s face, it was a smooth and glossy surface. Eyes that were no present looked down to an object that was cradled within its hands. Held within its grasp was a jagged crown that was carved to appear cracked and broken.

Feelings of sorrow and recognition welled up within him. It was a helpless depiction of Balance at the mercy of its two siblings. They stared down at the helpless form of Balance between them, judging and shaming. Even within a tree that represents both sides of the cycle, Balance is still shunned and hated. He thought somberly.

The Shroud held a longsword above itself, pointed to the right while looking down upon the conquered Awoken. Illumin to the left was in a similar pose to its opposite but instead grasped a spear.

Shaking his head Alric tore his gaze away from the scene portraying condemnation and shame. He looked around the room, examining it for other details. Checking behind the statue he found nothing, just an empty space. Upon examining the walls surrounding him he found three symbols on each of them. They were etched high up the wall and evenly spaced apart. To his left were a sun, scale, and spear. Those on the right were a moon, a crown, and a sword. All six of them were symbols related to the three Awoken.

Going to each spot beneath the symbols, Alric proceeded to check for more hollow spaces. When he reached the wall carved with the crown as Alric knocked it slighted budged. Pressing into the wall with a hand caused it to push inward, two clicking noises followed after he did so.

Turning to the room he saw no changes and again the bell sounded.

He looked back to the statue. Its presence was connected to this puzzle. His foot tapped against the stone as he contemplated the significance of the crown. In an instant, he realized the relationship between the symbols and the statue. The answer was simple, he began to recall the old story of creation. In a dream, everything was made and this was done by the ruler, Balance. A being that was the progenitor of the awoken.

According to common lore, Illumin was the first of the two to awake. Bringing an abundance of light, and the world surged with life as a result. Walking to the wall with the sun, Alric pushed into the wall. A clack of metal resulted from the action, then from behind the walls, the noise of moving gears ensued.

A slight creak emanated from the statue. Illumin’s hand holding the spear was pivoted in the opposite direction. The spear was pointed downward and crossing in front of Balance as if barring him from getting up.

Legends continue with the awakening of the Shroud, the harbinger of the darkest nights. It awoke from the dream into creation. Bringing darkness to counter Illumin’s light and hunger, a hunger that takes many forms. Pushing the wall section under the moon carving triggered the turning of more gears.

Another creak, The Shroud’s hand turned and its sword now lay cross before Balance. As it finished getting into position, the scrape of wood against stone resonated within the chamber. Behind the statue were two doors swung open, it was an entrance into another space with a ladder leading back up.

Climbing it Alric remembered the last piece to that legend, the one most forget. Balance was the last to awaken from its dream, into a world thrown into chaos. Both fragments of itself struggled against each other and the natural cycle was shattered. Despite being weakened, from the creation of the two siblings, Balance managed to restore some order to the cycle by clashing with the others. An imperfect being that should be condemned for what it did do, but it is sad to know that as a god it eventually cared.

The remaining obstacles within the room were not as complex, mostly requiring his ability to phase and move quickly.

After navigating the final portion within the bowels of the walkway, Alric finally clambered onto the platform at the end. Awaiting him was a lever embedded into it. He took a few long breathes of the musty air within the room. The bell resounded once more through the air, prompting him once more to move. Pulling the lever caused a succession of loud snapping noises as the walls behind him opened into doorways. With a snort, he grinned and proceeded to sprint down the path to the main room.

Emerging from the hallway into the room with the engraved Awoken motifs, Alric was met with a new addition to the room. Two individuals in heavy plate armor were waiting at the center of the room. Across their breastplates, colored in red and gold, were a design of a sun with wings spread behind it. And on their pauldrons, an eerie symbol of a sword with its blade pointed down and at its hilt an open eye. One of them wore an austere white cloak and no helmet. It was a man with a stoic face and weathered features. Long gray hair slightly trailed down his back and tied into a tail. His larger companion wore a helmet. Alric could see that the helmet was crafted to resemble a skull, it was an eerie semblance. A line of dark red streaked across the skeletal faceplate. It gave the metal it colored a blood-like color.

He could see that they were both were armed. The larger one casually held a heavy maul in one hand, its ridged metallic head pointed to the ground. At the waist of the other was a sheathed sword. Their attention immediately shifted to Alric as he entered.

Slowing his pace Alric then paused within the doorway. “Are you both part of the test?” He asked slowly, carefully observing them.

Tilting its head back a deep laugh resonated from the helmed figure. From the motion, the metallic teeth of the helmet glinted sinisterly within the room’s light. When the laughter stopped a rumbling voice, that sounded like the growl of thunder, spoke, “Part of the test? If only that were so, you would be so lucky then.”

A gentle smile spread across the aged features of the older man, “Well met, bastard son of the tyrant. We have come to shine the radiant light upon you.” As he finished his words it was punctuated by another ring of the bell.

His larger companion jumped into motion rushing straight for Alric.

—

Ghask’s nostrils flared as he rapidly moved the wooden sword he held. Each movement he made with the sword was met with a sharp crack of wood. The flurry of blows that came from his opponent was relentless, he barely was able to intercept the strikes being rained upon him. His arm’s muscles bulged and ached from the impact of each consecutive blow.

His opponent was a magonon that towered over him. It was a supervisor named Gar Dal, a creature who was heavily built with thick arms and a broad torso. The magonon’s chest was bare, proudly displaying a thick emerald-colored carapace mottled with black. It was cut into rigid patterns that were square in design. On his cranium, between a set of short horns, was a motif engraved to resemble two crossed swords. Gar’s lower half was garbed in dark blue cloth pants. A white sash was wrapped around its waist with the League’s symbol, the shield.

This portion of the exam was proving to be more of a challenge.

The trial was being held, to Ghask’s amazement, within a large opening carved into of the tree. Many others were gathered and participating in different stages of the overall exam. When he moved through the area none commented on white scales, though some did glance in his direction. He came to prove himself and earn that right to be called an adventurer. Ghask was grouped with several individuals for the first trial which was a set of tests to gauge physical ability. Undergoing different scenarios they were made to demonstrate their strength, dexterity, and speed for a examiner overlooking each one.

For the next part of the exam the group was broken up and each assigned to three veteran adventurers. He was informed that the test was simple, it was focused on both combat ability and resourcefulness under pressure. Ghask just had to fight in a circle etched into the stone slabs within the large space. A condition for failure was either being forced out of the circle’s boundaries or becoming subdued. Those same rules did apply to his opponents, and time was also his ally. One of the adventurers acting as a judge was using an unfamiliar object to time the bouts. If Ghask could endure that would also count as a victory.

An overconfident human was his first foe. She was nimble and moved swiftly on her feet, using a spear to weave attacks with great skill. He was able to parry some of her blows but she landed more than he blocked. Using an opening he managed to disarm and subdue her.

It was now the second round and the giant he now faced was named Gar. His experience outshone Ghask’s previous opponent, the gap was significant.This was an adventurer who was an experienced fighter, each strike made was powerful and calculated. One whose fangs have been honed. If he was scaled many would follow him. He thought, feeling grudging respect for his opponent. With its four arms, the two wooden poles it held would deftly switch from one hand to the other, while also nimbly dancing around Ghask.

Gar did not leave any openings for him to strike back, so Ghask defended. He felt like a rock that was being beaten down by the Great Blue’s waters. Slowly he was pushed back, he could feel his claws scrape against the stone. Each hit that broke past his defenses viciously slammed into his scales. Certain points on his body stung with pain.

The magonon wielded its weapons as an extension of its being, having an understanding of swordplay that was greater than his. In frustration, he tightly clamped his jaws together. As an outcast within his own den Ghask had to fight against the hatred for any form of respect or recognition. Though no one liked him, those among his den did acknowledge him as a strong warrior. Normally he welcomed a challenge, but this felt one-sided. Here I am, feeling as helpless as a new-scale just hatched.

As if sensing Ghask’s lapse in attention, the magonon hit his poles against the wooden sword in unison. A blow that sent the wooden edge into the stone. Quickly following the attack Gar kicked into Ghask’s abdomen.

In an explosion of pain, he was sent tumbling backward. He grunted as he came to a stop, a crumpled mass of scales on the stone. Ignoring the pain Ghask pushed himself up, and wobbled slightly as his body felt the burn of several bruises.

Walking over to him Gar nodded his head. A strong warm voice projected into his mind, “Well done, you almost outlasted me.” With a hand, he motioned to the judge, a gray aetharr. Who motioned to Ghask with the time-keeping device. Gesturing to his head the magonon continued, “You for thoughts to distract you. Focus on the moment, for that is all you have between you and your enemy.”

He thumped his tail down onto the ground. His pride as battered as he was. With a stiff nod of his head, he growled, “You fight well winged-one.”

With a fist he thumped his chest as he moved back to the circle, one defeat would not stop him. Renewing his determination he stepped back into the ring.

A sudden outburst of loud voices reverberated through the warm air. Turning to the source of the noise, not far from him he saw two League members stopping four heavily armored individuals. The four were donned in colorful armor and strange symbols unknown to Ghask. From their postures, they appeared haughty and confident despite being confronted by the adventurers.

Angrily gesturing to them while speaking loudly was a scaled colored bright red, “You have no authority here Radiant. These are grounds owned by the League.” From the smaller bone crest and leaner features, it was a female. She spoke with a commanding voice and a snarl on her lips.

Moving to her side was a young-looking human male, he wore leather armor pieces with chain mail beneath it. With a stern expression he spoke after his hellion companion, “And who are you to tell us that we must stand idle while your order searches for something? All of you refuse to share what that is. This is ridiculous.” He spoke with a voice than the scaled but in a tone reflecting his defiance.

Many gathered within the space were no glancing in the direction of the disturbance.

Opposite to the duo was a woman with a domineering presence. Her face was angular with various scars, it was a savage beauty. A sleek helmet like those the other three currently wore was held beneath her arm, it was designed to have the metal be shaped like wings. With her other hand, she casually touched the pommel of a war hammer. The weapon’s head was facing down onto the stone floor, the metallic sheen from the spiked ends glinted as if in anticipation. At the moment a smile was across the woman’s face. She spoke smoothly and with a condescending tone, “My fellow adventurer’s, we of the Everlasting Radiance are only here to find and remove a blight, a danger to us all. We were informed it was here and as such have come to ensure no harm is done.”

Before the two could respond a figure stormed into the midst of the group, it was the older man who took Alric to his trial.

The man’s graying hair was a mess and slick with sweat. His long face contorted with fury, “How dare you interfere with my test!” He screamed as spittle accompanied his words. Still loudly speaking he continued, “You do not have the right to interfere here. Go back to Thyniron and worship your holy sword.” The man then jabbed a finger in her direction, “This is a tradition you are sullying, and whoever is down there I will personally deal with. You will not stop me.”

What did Alric get himself into?