“Excellent! Let us begin. Follow me.” Sybillen chose his fate, now slightly regretting it. Alirina started walking, and he followed close behind. Passing by several halls, the residents of the castle gave him welcoming looks. Eventually, they reached their destination. The door that stood in front of him was similar to that of a castle’s gate. It stood at twenty feet tall, made of wood, with two guards side by side on either side of the door.
The guards, however, seemed out of place. It appeared as though they weren’t even there. They were of a dark color, their forms seeming to dance in the air – much like fire. Alirina seemed to not even notice. She waved her hand and the guards quickly opened the door for her.
“Come, Sybillen.” Alirina walked into the dark room that was barely lit.
“Where are you taking me?” He said, hesitantly, not wanting to enter the dark room. He was more fascinated in the guards.
“The dungeon,” Alirina said, matter-of-factly. He shook his head and continued to follow Alirina. As they walked the floor, bronze braziers lit up and illuminated the hall. There were some stone steps leading down into the floor. Walking down the steps, he noticed several doors on either side of the steps.
Eventually, reaching the end of the steps, they walked down yet another hallway, to a platform. Two stone steps led to the raised platform, braziers placed a foot away from each other, surrounding the platform. The flames were at least a foot high. Small pillars on either side of the steps led up to the ceiling, seeming to support it, but clearly for decoration. The walls supported fresco paintings. The drawings were those he did not recognize. Lost in the paintings, Sybillen didn’t notice Alirina had stepped onto the platform and had picked up a black chalice.
“Sybillen, it is time for you to fully accept your fate. Your destiny.” The braziers’ flames darkened, slowing turning a deep violet color. Alirina was now muttering under her breath, nothing Sybillen could make out, even if she spoke up. Now taking a knife from her side, she sliced down her arm, holding the chalice up to it. As quickly as the gash appeared, it was gone, leaving no sign of it ever being there. Sybillen, taken back by this, was confused. Her blood, now in the cup, extended her hand to him, wanting him to take the chalice. “Drink.”
That simple word, spoken in a gentle and reassuring tone, would be what sealed his fate for good. Drinking from the chalice, without much thought, Alirina had stepped back, just as Sybillen began to feel a gut wrenching pain twisting in his body. He fell to his knees, the chalice leaving his hand, his body twitching. Holding his hand to his head, his world quickly fell to darkness. From all areas of his body, he gave off a vapor. His skin was melting away, the edges of his figure rippling and dancing, much like he saw the guards. Alirina chuckled, kneeling infront of his sleeping body, stroking his cheek. “Oh, do I not do a good job…”
Upon awakening, Alirina was nowhere to be found. With no memory of what happened, he glanced around. The braziers’ flames were their normal hue, the frescos were shining gold. He glanced down at his skin; a dark color, the color of black leather. His body was covered in armor like no other; impenetrable. The greaves that formed on his body were rust colored, as if stained with blood from wars long past. His cuisse covered his upper thighs, and had what seemed to be red veins in them underneath the triangular overlapping plates. His faulds would be made of chain mail, covering his waist. His breast plate had ornate carvings into the sides of the steel towards his waist. They had red veins down from his arm pits receding into the middle of his chest. They seem to pulsate as they made their way to the center. His spaulders were spiked. The spikes arranged in a perfect square equal distances apart. The spikes also were somewhat large, maybe 6-8 inches long and about halfway up were bent at a forty five degree angle. The armor running down his arms were also veined similarly to his chest. The red lines seemed to pulsate as they made their way from the elbow to his wrist, curving around the tops of his arm. Lightweight gauntlets would form on his hands perfectly, and he squeezed his hands into a fist for a second, smiling. He looked up, and a helmet was lowering itself like a crown. The helmet had two large horns reaching to the heavens, curving outward initially but curving inward at the top. Each horn was also ridged. Two red eyes would pierce the eye slots, and two horns curved from the base of his neck outward, going to about half the length of his larger horns.
Beside him lay his new sword. The sword that would pierce his enemies, one that shall install his new found power into those that stand in his way. The sword's hilt would be ridged like his sword, two small spikes turning into the pommel. The hilt also had two horns coming down from the cross-guard moving about halfway down the hilt, leaving the space for him to grip the blade. Two curved horns would jut out of either side of the cross guard. On the blade, a small elongated skull is seen, except the sides of it were covered in horns. At the end of its mouth were two small horns similar to the ones on the top of his helmet. These horns had a similar red pulsating vein through them. Further down the blade it had three barbs on each side, similar to that of a stingray barb. They progressively got smaller until it reached an arrowhead shaped tip curved to a very sharp point.
Slowly standing up, he approached the stairs.