Chapter 358: Trial Of The Nameless

The goblins of Blood Fang crowded around each other in a loose circle, each eager to watch the trial unfold. On one end of the circle blazed the communal bonfire, illuminating the dark night. On the other end stood Stryg and Srixa, staring at each other from across the circle of goblins.

The firelight flickered off the bright yellow eyes of the countless goblins in the darkness. Quiet chants of blood and death echoed in the village square. A cold shiver ran down Plum’s spine. It felt as if she was in a nightmare, surrounded by monsters who wanted to kill and eat her.

Stryg took his eyes off his opponent and glanced behind him at his friends. He smiled reassuringly, “Everything’s going to be alright.”

“That’d be much more comforting if your chieftain would tell us what they plan to do with us,” Plum said dryly.

“They haven’t made a decision yet and they won’t until my fight with Srixa is over.”

“Wonderful,” Plum said with a sarcastic tone. “Any chance not brutally murdering us is an option?”

Stryg bit his lip, “I’ll figure something out.”

Tauri leaned towards them. “I’m not much of a Sylvan historian, but I’m pretty certain they’re literally singing for our deaths right now,” she whispered exasperatedly.

“Exactly. Why don’t you use your magic and get us out here, Stryg?” Plum asked.

“This fight is important to me,” Stryg admitted. “I’m not going to run away from it, I can’t.”

“Alright, fine,” Plum whispered. “Then why don’t you just use your magic in the fight? Then we run away. One fireball here, one light beam there, and BAM! We’re out of this place.”

“I don’t want to use magic,” Stryg shook his head.

“What? Why!?” Plum frowned in disbelief.

“Because to him it’s more than about winning,” Tauri said with quiet certainty. “It’s about proving yourself, isn’t it? I could have used my magic countless times during my military training with my father, but it would have been meaningless. The whole point of that training was to show my family I was a warrior worthy of inheriting the martial mantle of House Katag. That’s what this is all about, right? You want to prove to all of them that you are worthy of being a part of Blood Fang.”

Stryg bowed his head. “Yeah…” he muttered.

“That’s great and all, but are you sure you can win without your magic?” Plum raised her eyebrow. “The chieftain said you can’t even use a weapon.”

“Weapons aren’t allowed in sacred trials,” Stryg nodded. “Or shoes for that matter.” He took off his boots and wiggled his clawed toes on the ground, the sensation of his toes on the ground and the air brushing on his skin felt nice.

“So no magical swords, greeeaaat,” Plum laughed anxiously. “Have you ever been in a fight like this before?”

“Once… I lost,” Stryg admitted. He thought it best if he didn’t mention that it was to Gathi, a mere gatherer.

Plum pursed her lips together and nodded repeatedly, “Hm, not great, not great. Okay, well that was different, right? This time your opponent can’t be that strong. I mean look at her, she’s what? 4 and a half ft at most?”

Stryg shrugged, “Srixa is the greatest warrior in my generation. She’ll probably be the leader of the hunters someday. She’s never lost a challenge, except the one time a goblin cheated, and in the end, she still came out on top. When it comes to hand-to-hand combat she’s definitely way more skilled than me.”

Plum hung her head in defeat, “Can we just run away now?”

Tauri laughed, “You really don’t know how strong Stryg is, do you?”

Plum furrowed her brow, “Yeah, I know he won the mage tourney, but this isn’t a fight with magic.”

“Wow, you really don’t know, do you?” Tauri smiled. “I guess it makes sense, you were never in combat training with him and he’s only grown stronger since you left.”

The chieftain stepped out from the crowd and raised his hand for silence. The goblins chanting died and they all stared at him intently, waiting.

“As we do not currently have a shaman in our tribe, it falls upon me to commence the sacred Trial of the Nameless,” Jahn said. “Warriors, step forward!”

Stryg pulled Blossom off his shoulders and handed the white petal cloak to Plum, “Take care of this for me.”

She nodded silently. He smiled and took one last glance at his friends, then walked to the center of the circle.

Srixa practically skipped eagerly towards him. When their eyes met she licked her lips and bared her fangs.

Jahn raised his spear and slowly pointed it at both of them, “Victory and Defeat stand before you. Which shall you dare grasp under the watchful eye of the Mother Moon?”

“That which we deserve,” Stryg and Srixa said in unison.

Jahn nodded, “Honor and Glory lie within reach. Be strong. Be quick. And above all, take what is yours.”

The crowd cheered in unison and Jahn stepped back. The trial had begun.

Stryg and Srixa slowly began circling each other, eyeing one another's movement, searching for an opening.

“We all thought you were dead, except some of the Mothers,” Srixa said. “But I never thought in my wildest dreams you would have dared come back here. Lucky me.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” Stryg said without missing a beat.

Srixa smiled, “You’re not afraid of me? Good, it’s always more fun when they think they have a chance.”

Stryg remembered another goblin, one who thought he had a chance against the vicious Srixa. “Ostroz, I haven’t seen him yet. Is he?”

“Ostroz…?” Srixa cocked her head to the side. “Oh! That cheating goblin, I almost forgot about him. He died in that damned cave like so many others. One of the lamias bit him. He died screaming and thrashing on the dirt as the venom melted his insides.”

Stryg faltered. “I see…” he mumbled.

Srixa spotted the momentary loss of focus and jumped at him. He sidestepped her clawed strike with ease and took a few more steps back.

She narrowed her eyes at his unnatural agility and looked him over once more, “You’ve changed. We always knew you were odd.”

“No, I’m different,” he said without hesitation. “Does that scare you? Did you think I’d be easy prey?”

She smirked, “I remember your Night Challenge, you know. You were trembling like a leaf in the wind. You walked past your challengers, hoping to find the weakest of us. You took one look at me and you ran away with your tail between your legs.”

“You’re right… I thought you terrifying, beautiful, powerful…”

“And now?”

“You haven’t changed.”

“But you have,” she licked her lips. “You’re almost as tall as a dire. Tell me, are you as strong as one too?”

Srixa didn’t wait for his answer. She dashed at him, close to the ground, and swept in with a low kick. Stryg didn’t dodge, he spread his legs apart, and dug his toes into the dirt. Her leg smacked against his shin with an audible crack. Srixa stifled a cry with clenched teeth and hopped back on one foot.

Her hands moved in quick swipes, outstretched claws tearing at his shirt. Stryg felt the sting of her claws ripping into his toughened skin, but he forced himself to not flinch back. His hand shot out and grasped her throat. She gasped a short breath and clawed at his forearm and kicked at his waist.

Stryg lifted her up and slammed her into the ground with a heavy thud. Srixa coughed and her eyes swam in a daze. She weakly wrapped her hands around his wrist and squeezed, her claws digging into his skin.

Stryg yanked her up by the neck and slammed her back into the ground. She coughed painfully, the last of her breath leaving her, and lost her grip on his wrist. Stryg lifted her once more, she tried to resist but her body barely moved. He tightened his grip until her face went blue and her eyes rolled up as her body went limp.

The excited chanting of the crowd had gone silent.

Stryg glared at the stunned goblins and raised Srixa’s unconscious body over his head with both arms.

“Is this what you all wanted to see!?” he screamed.

They had wanted him to fail, he had seen it in their eyes. The longing for his death. How many times had he seen the same look before? They hated him, but even they would bow to power. Even they couldn’t kill him if he were strong. Even they would have to accept him as one of the tribe.

“Kill,” someone whispered from the back.

“Kill,” another goblin nodded.

“Kill,” several more muttered.

“Kill!” voices shouted through the crowd.

“Kill! Kill! Kill!” the goblins chanted in a bloodthirsty fervor.

Stryg frowned, Why?

He had won. Why did they still want to kill him? Why did they hate him? He was strong. He was worthy, wasn’t he? He deserved to be a part of the tribe. All he wanted from them, all he had ever wanted… was their acceptance.

“Kill her!” the hunters screamed.

“What?” Stryg blinked.

“She lost!”

“The weak don’t deserve to live!”

“Kill her!”

Stryg slowly looked up at Srixa’s prone body, her head hanging back, blood dripping from her forehead. Purple and red bruises were already forming around her throat.

They want to kill… Srixa?

But she was strong. She had always been strong. She had served and protected the tribe for years. And now they wanted to toss her aside? As if her life was meaningless?

Stryg clenched his jaw. He gently lowered Srixa to the ground and hovered over her, like a mother wolf guarding her pup.

“Stryg, what are you doing?” Jahn called out in consternation.

“…I won’t let them kill her,” Stryg growled.

“The defeated of the Trial of the Nameless must die. That is the way of the Sylvan!” Jahn yelled. “You won! Finish this and take your place as part of the tribe.”

Stryg glanced at Plum and Tauri’s worried faces. He smiled weakly at his friends, then turned to the chieftain. “No,” he said with a solemn expression.

“You would go against tradition? Against sacred rites!” Jahn shouted angrily. “I gave you a chance! A chance for redemption and this is how you repay it!?”

Stryg smiled to himself, “Yeah, yeah I guess so.”

“What nonsense are you spouting, boy!?” Jahn turned to First Mother, “Say something!”

First sighed deeply and shook her head, “The boy is no longer a boy. He is old enough to make his own decisions.”

“This is insane,” Jahn laughed ludicrously. “Don’t you understand, Stryg!? If you are not one of us then you are nothing!”

“That’s not true!” Plum shouted and walked up behind Stryg. “He is my friend.” She balled her fists and took a deep breath, “He is my best friend.”

Tauri nodded and joined them, “Stryg is a pain in the ass, but he is one of the bravest warriors I know. I am proud to call him my friend.”

Stryg looked up at them in surprise and broke into a grateful smile.

“Friends? With a drow and a damn orc!? You would rather stand by these ‘friends’ than your own tribe!?” Jahn screamed. “This is your last chance, Stryg! Kill Srixa and end this defiant tantrum before you get yourselves all killed!”

Stryg stood to his feet and smiled. There was no anger behind his eyes, no hatred, and no shame, just a calm certainty he hadn’t felt before. “I am the son of Blood Fang, but I am the father of Ebon Hollow, and I stand by my own tribe. You will not touch my friends so long as I draw breath.”

“Your own tribe? You dare name an orc and drow a part of a tribe?” Jahn snarled and pointed his steel spear at him, “You’ve been gone from Blood Fang for far too long. You have forgotten the Mothers’ teachings, boy. It’s time you remember where you belong. Hunters! With me!”

A dozen hunters fell in by Jahn’s side, each with their own steel spear. Their feet shifted and their weapons moved into a defensive formation.

Stryg stiffened. It was different, they wielded spears instead of longswords, but he recognized the stance. One of the advanced blade forms, used only as a group. The Gale Style’s Blade Wall.