Purpose

Act 1

“Set. One. Two. Three. Set!”

The clashing of pristine blades made the shouts of the giant almost inaudible. Yet most of the crowd standing in the large courtyard did not need to hear him to follow the orders given.

“Set. One. Two. Three. Set!” the figure shouted over the crowd once more.

Standing a full eight feet tall, his abnormally muscular body was covered in a magnificent set of plate armor. Ornate carvings of monsters and creatures were wrought over every inch, while gilded trim wrapped the edges.

A typical mortal soldier would be fitted with iron, bronze or even platinum. A king or leader may have ornamental armor produced from gold or silver. The armor donned by the yelling man, the General, as well as a few others spread out around the courtyard was pure, shining, Radiant Gold.

Between the shoulderblades of the General, rested the hilt of a magnificent greatsword. Gilded around the edges like the armor; fine leather wrapped around the rest of the hilt. An equally magnificent sheath hid the blade but could not hide the purple glow emanating from it.

The General, along with a select few amongst the crowd, had two white, feathered wings that sprouted mid back. Though he was not using his wings, his companions were flying across the courtyard examining the populus.

The figures in the courtyard were similar to the General. All very muscular, all very tall. The hundred or so people in the courtyard were paired up, wingless, wielding small metal longswords and wearing nothing but cloth garments.

“Set. One. Two. Three. Set!” the General shouted once more over the crowd as each pair moved their blades to the specific pose on the General’s mark.

“Are you going to pass the trial this time, Rider?” One man chuckled to his sparring partner, “Or are you going to run off to explore like usual?”

Rider, the man’s sparring partner, retorted in a loud whisper, “Stop mentioning that, if someone overhears you-”

“Oh come off it,” his partner interrupted, “everyone knows that you go galavanting in the caves. You were supposed to pass the trail four cycles ago my friend. It doesn’t help that you refuse to hide that thing around your neck,” Rider’s partner motioned to a necklace around his neck as they continued to warm up.

A small, carved wooden pendant attached to a twisted vine wrapped around his neck was the only thing that distinguished Rider from the rest of the initiates.

“You don’t understand, this has more purpose-,” Rider started before getting cut off once again by his partner.

“No, you don’t understand, you have a purpose. It’s staring at you every moment of your life. The more you ignore it the more issues will arise. You know that Rider.”

Rider could not form a response, all he could do was shake his head.

“Set. Alright, that is enough for now. Trials begin! I expect to see each of you at your designated period,” the General barked his final orders before turning and leaving the courtyard. The flying patrolmen landed and followed closely behind him.

“Rider, you have to start accepting why you are here. A good first step is actually completing the trial and earning your blade. Look at it this way, if I complete mine and you don’t complete yours it’s going to be harder for me to cover for you,” his partner sheathed his blade and threw an arm around Rider, “Now let’s go grab some food before the trials.”

Rider and his sparring partner walked off together into the fortress.

A small but imposing structure, the castle was composed of three main square towers, connected by a triangular centerpiece piece. A silvered dome roofed each tower. Gold trim circuited the building giving it a lavish glow. Winged soldiers did large, circular loops around the castle, watching for possible threats.

Following his friend through the winding halls, they ended up in a larger room where soldiers and initiates ate. After procuring food they sat down with another group of initiates. One of these, Rider noticed, had a different sword sheathed on his back.

“Aggon! Well done,” apparently his friend had noticed as well.

“Thanks-,” Aggon began.

“Speak for yourself Finn, he says he disarmed General Ryze in fifteen seconds! Expectations will be monstrous!” another initiate at the table voiced his opinion much louder passthan Aggon.

“Look, I’m sure we will all pass, we have all been training properly, right?” Finn sat down at the table followed quickly by Rider.

“Most-surly,” a fourth initiate said in response, “particularly Mr. Solo-Practice over there,” the man sarcastically pointed at Rider.

“Jibe me all you want. I am going to pass, I’m sure of it. I am fine in form, and at least for me, it’s now or never.” Rider spoke bluntly to the table.

“Never? He won’t let you stop being part of his army just because you refuse to train with the team,” Aggon joked.

As the table laughed at Rider’s expense, he spotted Finn giving him a sideways glance.

“Well, next stop after today, our wings, then off to our actual purpose,” Finn thankfully changed the subject, “I’m getting tired of doing training drills all day.”

“Getting our wings,” another initiate chortled, “that’s cycles away! Worry about getting your plates first.”

“Ha! Next you’re going to say you want to be a General,” the conversation spiraled down the table, “Becoming a guardian takes more dedication that most of us can manage.”

“So have you never considered that you want to become more than a knight?” Finn questioned.

“Of course I have, but I am striving for Legionnaire or even Paladin. More reasonable, I think,” someone else responded

Rider continued eating, listening to his friend’s meaningless chatter, until a low voice spoke inside his head, “Rider, if you proceed to the Assessment Chamber, your trial will commence shortly.”

Giving his farewells, Rider made his way out of the mess hall.

The hallway connecting to the Assessment Chamber was not any less extravagant than the rest of the fortress. A vaulted ceiling, supported by eight evenly spaced, multi-story stone pillars ran from the start of the hallway to the opposite end where a beautiful double wooden door stood agape. Beams of sunlight reflected off the black marbled floor, lighting the room with a sparkling glow. Like the rest of the fortress, the walls were covered with paintings. From wars amongst the gods, to mere mortal conflicts that struck Tyr’s cord, each painting looked as if every stroke was perfect.

Though Rider was not the only person traversing the hallway, only his footsteps echoed off the walls as he strided. Two soldiers stood in gleaming gold at either end with the same magnificent greatswords that he himself would have the chance to claim. More soldiers flew back and forth far above the ground entering and exiting doors positioned near the ceiling. Standing next to the door was a figure who Rider knew well. Guardian Danse was an officer underneath Ryze and was specifically assigned to overlook Rider’s initiate training.

“Goodday Guardian Danse,” Rider bowed slightly as he neared Danse.

“Hello Rider,” Danse responded. In one hand he was holding a stone tablet that emitted a magical blue light, “Prepared for today?”

“I think so. I have a good feeling about this one.”

“I do too. Maybe after this you would stop going off to train by yourself. It would make getting your wings a lot easier.”

Everyone knew that Rider was acting oddly, and was hiding something. Not many people actually knew what the secret was. Other than Finn, Danse was the closest to figuring it out. For some unknown reason he had not mentioned his suspicion to anyone and had gained Rider’s respect because of that.

“As I am to evaluate your trial I’ll be sure to take everything into account, ” Danse winked at Rider before turning to enter the room.

“Rider,” said General Ryze, the same soldier from the training grounds, as Rider passed through the wooden door, “Welcome. Stand on your mark. The trial will begin shortly.”

The door opened up into a circular patio. The floor was tiered, with the lowest point in the center and steps leading up to the edges. An ornate bronze fence closed off the patio while small wooden pillars held up a conical roof that stood only fifteen feet tall compared to the hallway. The visages of vast fields, beautiful waterfalls, and magnificent forests surrounded the patio. Only Ryze, Danse, and Rider stood in the room.

Stepping down to the spot marked with chalk, Rider unsheathed his own greatsword. After some inaudible chatter between Ryze and Danse, Ryze stepped down unsheathing his greatsword as he faced Rider. The purple glow that emanated from the blade bore through the bright sun like a torch lighting up the darkest cave.

“So, are you going to complete the trial? Finn has informed me that you have spent even more time training by your lonesome. It seems that you have even produced a reward for yourself,” Ryze sneered, glancing at the necklace.

“I have Sir, I’m ready,” Rider looked down at the small wooden pendant.

Shaped roughly like an hourglass, three symbols were etched in the pendant: a single sapling sprouting from the bottom, a long sword resting next to it, and the sun shining from above.

“Set. Advance,” Ryze announced, starting the duel.

Steeling himself, Rider looked back up at his opponent and started arcing around, with slow, precise footsteps. Matching Rider, Ryze started circling the room, intensely watching Rider’s movements, waiting for him to strike first.

Set, force parry, shift weight, riposte, Set. Rider planned his flurry of attacks.

With a deep breath Rider pulled his sword into the same neutral position he did when training with Finn and rushed at the General. Making a wide swipe left, Ryze did not act as predicted but instead kept his blade in the same position.

Change of plans, decisive hit left to stagger, kick right leg to drop, strike forearm to unarm.

What Rider did not account for was Ryze shifting his stance. Rider’s blade nearly impacted Ryze’s arm when the General pushed off and charged into Rider. A sharp pauldron impacted Rider’s neck forcing his jaw up sending a cracking noise reverberating out. Rider stumbled back, a stream of blood erupting from his nose.

Using the remaining momentum of the charge, Ryze swung around doing a full rotation bringing his sword up as he moved. The sword impacted Rider’s right arm slicing through a large chunk of muscle.

Pain streaked up his arm as if he had dipped it in a barrel of burning oil.

“What is the issue Rider?” General Ryze jeered, taking a few steps back, “I thought you were ready?”

Catching himself from falling, Rider pushed his arm along his face cleaning some of the blood off. The blood that was still in his body was beginning to boil. Ryze was taunting him, not something befitting of a superior. Turning his head slightly to the side, three teeth spat out onto the ground, “I am.”

Operating on pure instinct this time, he charged at Ryze, making another wide, left swing. Unfortunately this strike was weaker than the last as Rider had sustained a large wound.

The General readied for the impact and parried it with ease forcing Rider’s blade to hit the ground. A ring shot out into the air. Ryze stepped on the tip of the blade, pinning it to the ground.

Regaining some composure, Rider’s growing anger turned to fear as he tried to pry his blade back from under Ryze. Raising his sword over his head, Ryze, with all his might swung down at Rider’s sword.

Panic flooded Rider’s eyes as he watched his sword snap in two. Looking at Ryze their eyes met.

“Good grief,” Ryze muttered, a shameless grin painted on his face. In quick succession he kicked Rider hard in the chest, sending him flying back, then swung his sword. A spray of blood and shattered bone erupted out of his neck filling the air with a spray of blood. Rider collapsed hard on the stone steps behind him. Darkness threatened his vision.

Instead of clutching his shattered clavicle, Rider used what little strength he had to push himself to his left. The small pendant was no longer fixed around his neck, but rather resting on a step, covered in blood, a few feet away from him.

Inversely aligning with the internal pounding of blood in his head, Ryze’s footsteps signaled his approach. When Rider stretched to grab the pendant he was stopped short as Ryze pinned his wrist down with his boot.

“What?” Rider sputtered, blood pooling in his mouth.

“I am inclined to remove the trophy from your possession. You obviously do not deserve it,” with his other greave he stomped on the pendant, crushing it into the ground.

“No. Ava!” Rider impulsively shouted, “Stop!”

“Sir. I think you have prove-” Danse tried to speak.

“Do not question my judgment, Guardian,” Ryze interrupted, hatred in his voice.

The darkness that threatened to engulf his vision, nearing the point of no return, was reversing. The pounding of his head increased, drowning out all other noises. The pain that seared through his body shifted to anger as he watched Ryze’s boot destroy what he held dear.

Continuing to stomp, “Ava? I do not believe any of your brothers have donned this name. Guardian Danse, be sure to record Rider’s failure.”

With his unpinned arm Rider started to beat uselessly against Ryze’s armored boot.

“I think that makes five unsuccessful trials. I suppose you will get another chance next cycle, perhaps if you stopped training with Ava you would succeed,” Ryze looked down at Rider.

“Don’t. Say. That. Name!” every punch he threw, he threw with all his might, yet the boot pinning him to the ground did not budge. Rider did not realize that the darkness was retreating nor that his punches were, in fact, getting stronger with each one.

“Rider, you have lost, embarrassing yourself will only hurt you more,” the General responded to his plea.

Rider considered his General’s request for but a moment. Gritting his teeth together he tilted his head up to meet the General’s gaze. A heinous grin stretched once again across his face.

The many birds that called the roof of Tyr’s castle home scattered in dismay as a earth-shattering scream signaled Rider breaking. As the sound reverberated through the patio Rider used his remaining strength to slam his fist at the back of the General’s knee. The General buckled from the unexpected blow letting Riders other arm slip free.

A large sweep from his newly freed arm caused General Ryze to fall backwards slamming into the hard floor, dazed. Quickly, he reached for the pendant that was now crushed. Rage blinding his reason he grabbed his broken greatsword and stood up looking over at the General, thirsty for revenge.

A dull burn scraped his back after his first step. Turning around, Guardian Danse had just made a large slash down his back with his own sword. His expression held both confidence and fear. Incomprehensibility was not often found inside the castle. Especially that from a friend.

“Rider, what are you doing? It’s over,” Danse beseeched.

Through the burning forest of Rider’s thoughts he did notice that for a full Guardian of Tyr, the strike was weak. Before Danse could lift his sword, Rider kicked him square in the chest. Reality seemed to stretch and shatter around the kick, sending shockwaves out that rattled the patio. Danse slammed into the wall, causing a large crack to shoot from floor to ceiling.

Turning back to Ryze he tried to apologize to Danse but only managed to grunt and huff. Another powerful kick in the head prevented Ryze from sitting up. A divot formed on the floor where his head impacted. Instant death would have overcome a mortal if struck with the same force.

Kneeling down over Ryze he jammed the broken edge of his sword into the wrist of the hand that still tightly gripped his sword.

One. Two. Three.

One. Two. Three.

The General’s training regime rang through after every stab. Ryze’s attempts to free himself were now futile. Rider had pinned him down and he received a hard punch whenever he raised his head. The plate bracers were extraordinarily hard to penetrate but after every repetition they weakened and eventually started breaking off in chunks.

A final stab that sunk through General Ryze’s wrist forced his hand open, letting the blade fall to the ground. Rider got up with a new glowing purple blade in hand, towering over his General. Slowly he raised the greatsword over his head preparing to strike.

“Rider,” General Ryze stammered, blood now pooling in his own mouth, “Stop! That’s an order-”

Rider could barely hear his own thoughts, let alone someone else’s. He had a purpose, and it was going to be fulfilled.

Ryze used his arms to shield his face the best he could from the incoming attacks. The first of which, aimed directly at the head, collided with his remaining gauntlet and glided off. Accumulating more anger every moment that passed, Rider raised the sword once again and swung down. Whether it was luck or precision, this swing missed all armor and cut directly through his uncovered wrist, slicing the hand completely off. The blade did not stop there. It found its mark just above the clavicle adjacent to his right shoulder, nearly avoiding the armor.

A similar, more pained, screech came from Ryze as had come from Rider. Panicked, Ryze’s eyes darted around looking for an escape. Guardian Danse lay limp on the other side of the room, his sword laying a few feet from his body. “If I could reach it, I could stop this madness,” he thought. As Rider pulled the sword from his shoulder, his wings began to beat and shift and he started moving away from Rider.

Only four other soldiers in Tyr’s army held the rank of General. They worked directly under Tyr and were his most trusted and skilled fighters. Under his command Tyr had toppled tyrants, banished evils, and destroyed dozens of destroyers. What was looming over him, in Ryze’s mind, was beyond anything he had ever fought. No soul had managed to disable both himself and Danse with such ease.

General Ryze was able to turn over and lift half a foot off the ground before he felt a warm hand clutch his leg. Rider slammed Ryze to the ground. Like an energetic earthquake the ground shuddered at the impact.

Rider focused all his mental energy into trying to form something to tell his general. As he lifted the sword he took a deep breath and bellowed, “I am ready!”

The sword speared through Ryze’s back armor, his stomach, and dug a half a foot into the stone floor below. The next moments seemed like lifetimes as Rider eventually realized what he had done. The pounding in his ears stopped, his breath normalized, and after some time he shifted his gaze from the small pendant he held to the two unmoving bodies around him.

Unable to comprehend what consequences would befall him, he stumbled over to the stone tablet that rested on the ground. Picking up both the tablet and quill he looked over the content. His name was written at the top along with two small boxes. Pass over one of them and fail over the next. There was a small mark over fail as if Danse started to mark that box.

Rider took the quill and made a large mark over pass.

“I did it,” he chucked the tablet at Ryze’s body then quickly reentered the castle.

Rider swiftly sprinted to the armory, without noticing or talking to anyone, to receive his new sword. Along his way he ripped off scraps from his clothing and wrapped it around his wounds. With an iron tight grip of the pendant he made it to the armory with no issue.

The armory was one of the chambers in the castle that was remarkably different. Though Tyr was capable of many miracles, his craftsmanship skills were lackluster compared to that of Gond, whose divine gifts allowed him to craft many outstanding armaments. Gond did not have an army like Tyr but rather a legion of blacksmiths and metalworkers that were able to harness the most unwieldy materials to produce wonders. Sitting in the comparably small chamber was one of these blacksmiths.

With arms the size of a soldier, the blacksmith’s head scraped the ceiling as he leaned back and forth using tools fitted to his size. The floorspace was not but fifteen feet in either direction and a large portion of that was occupied by the blacksmith’s similarly sized legs as he sat on the ground. A large, black iron anvil was placed between his legs which looked as if it had been assaulted by thousands of hammer strokes.

Odd shadows flickered and danced around the room produced by a furnace nestled in a corner. The flames from the fire burned hotter than anything in the universe. Fueled by elderwood, a material originating from Mielikki, goddess of forest’s private sanctuary. Adjacent to the furnace a large cauldron sat to quench the blades as they were forged. The Blacksmith’s strokes slowed as Rider entered the room looking up expectantly.

“Oh,” the Blacksmith’s voice was deep and rattled Rider’s head. Though intimidating, the Blacksmith spoke ponderously, drawing out each word and leaving large gaps in between them. Rider wasn’t sure whether the Blacksmith struggled to form words or if he was very thoughtful and deliberate about his choices, “you must be Rider,” he picked up a small stone tablet between his fingers. Pushing aside a lock of long, stringy greasy hair he lifted it very close to his face, “congratulations, I’m sure you are here for your sword.”

Rider had only seen the Blacksmith once before, when he received his training blade. It was strange that it was able to break so quickly for being made by such a skilled craftsman.

“Yes, I have completed my trial and wish to obtain my sword,” Rider spoke loudly, slower than usual, half bowing, not sure how to approach the creature.

“I have already begun, only a few more moments,” the Blacksmith raised his arm lifting a large hammer along with it.

Sparks sprayed outwards as the Blacksmith’s arm swung the hammer, forcing it to collide with the blade resting on the anvil. What Rider previously thought were tattoos covering the Blacksmith’s body alit in light blues and greens as it collided, sending magic through the hammer into the blade.

The Blacksmith continued to work the sword while Rider waited, still dumbfounded. He was in the right, the trial was to disarm Ryze and he successfully did so. It was not his fault that Ryze cheated, he eventually fell to him. If he assaulted someone Ryze cared about he was sure he would react the same way. But Guardian Danse did not deserve the same fate as Ryze, although he did say that he would try to give him a fair shot, and did nothing. So Rider was right about that too.

“Rider… Rider,” the Blacksmith was now staring directly at Rider holding his hand, palm up, at him. His large eyebrows were almost like curtains hanging down over the eyes. Coming back to reality, the Blacksmith continued to speak, “your sword my friend, may it serve you well.”

Rider put his hand around the hilt and lifted the blade. He was proud to raise a sword of the Blacksmith, as it had no equal among mere mortal blades. Lifting it up Rider felt as if the sword was connected to him, as if the purple glow was emanating from his own arms rather than a weapon.

“Thank you sir. One more question, would you happen to have some twine?”

The Blacksmith moved his arm slowly back up to a resting position, a quizzical scowl forming on his face.

“Of course, how much do you require?” he lifted his arm into the air.

“Not much, two feet.”

The Blacksmith seemed to reach out into a dark corner of the room and then slowly pulled his hand back down to Rider. Sitting pinched between his fingers, seemingly from nowhere, was a piece of twine.

“Thank you sir,” Rider did the same awkward half bow after taking the twine.

“Good luck!” The Blacksmith waved as the large iron door slammed behind a rushed Rider.

Even quicker than before Rider bolted towards the door that led to the courtyard. On his way he tried his best to clean the small pendant off and attach it to the piece of twine. Placing it back around his neck, where it belonged, he opened the gate leading outside.

Moving along the edge of the castle he ducked between shadows being careful to wait for the flying patrolmen. Like he had done dozens of times previously, he waited for the right moment and dashed from a shaded part of the castle into the thick brush that surrounded it.

Traveling through the forests around Tyr’s castle was a recipe for disaster. Not only filled with monstrous beasts, but designed by Tyr so invaders would get confused and lost. Luckily Rider was a smart invader. He had spent hours exploring the forest and knew almost every nook and cranny. Maneuvering his way between trees and over large rocks it took but half an hour to reach the other end of the forest. Eventually transforming into a narrow, gently sloping strip of land, coated with perfect grains of sand. On the opposite side of the beach light waves licked up the shore.

The soft breeze that cascaded onto the shore was disrupted by a large exhale produced by Rider. For the first time since his last meal he felt safe. Felt that he wasn’t being watched, being ridiculed. A small raft, supporting a single beam with a white sail attached to it appeared in the distance. Imagined by Rider this small boat was destined for greener shores. And he had missed its departure once again.

Staring off into the distance for but a moment he dashed off down the coast. Moving on sand was more difficult than through the forest. Each step needed more power to carry him the same distance.

Another five minutes passed before Rider’s pace slowed to a stop in front of a small cliff covered in large boulders. What would appear natural to most did not appear natural to Rider. He neared a larger boulder about halfway up the cliff and wrapped his arms around it. This boulder was different from the rest, a thin groove was carved across one of the faces. With a hefty grunt Rider was able to shove the boulder off to the side revealing an opening behind it. He pulled himself up into the small opening, landing upright in a dark cave.

Recovering the cave was more habit than anything else, for anyone finding it would spell disaster. New sounds mingled with old as he entered: the soft repetition of waves from the ocean; the smooth trickle of water from small streams that shaped the inside, and from runoff seeping through causing water to fall from the ceiling; and a low sizzling noise that was omnipresent from inside like the whole system was about to blow.

Though Tyr granted all of his warriors the ability to roughly see in the dark, depth was often hard to determine. Rider had a solution. One that he shared with his brothers. A dull magical glow started seeping out of his skin. As the light filled the corners of the cave it shined through many purple and green crystals that protruded from the walls causing a kaleidoscope of colors. Each step he took shifted the shadows enough to make it feel like a different room.

The first time Rider ventured into this cave he held his sword strong, prepared for any threat that was lurking in the shadows. Now his sword stayed sheathed, knowing that as long as he stuck to his path no harm would befall him.

Rapidly narrowing, Rider continued down one of three paths leading deeper into the ground. The crystals grew in density the farther down he traveled. Not but a minute later he had reached his destination. A crack in the path was the only light that naturally shone in the cave. Looking down, Rider saw the source of the light. A tear in reality itself produced a brilliant array of purples, blues, greens and oranges circling each other in a forever spiral.

Rider lowered himself down nearing the tear, letting his feet scrape the edge. Taking a deep breath he felt a tug at his feet. Accepting the pull he released his grip on the edges and got spiraled into the tear.

Breathlessness and weightlessness were two conditions that Rider hadn’t suffered traversing this portal the first time. What small bit of fear generated from the odd sensation swiftly turned to joy as the same array of colors spiraled a non determinable distance away from him.

Weightlessness shifted to falling and then to falling fast, until he was rocketing towards his destination. An odd sensation overtook him, as if he were high diving into a frozen lake but bursting through the ice with ease. Instead of submerging in water on the other side, his vision hastily shifted and weight returned to him. He landed on soft ground that crunched with the first footsteps.