The Trials Of Ashbarn ( Book 5) (15 page)

Eric
found his mind wandering. He thought about home of all things. At least, the only place he ever called home: Bryer. The days would fly by when he worked the forge, then hammered away on red-hot iron. He was good at what he did. There was no reason to ever believe those days would end.

He could recall
running around with Jacob. They had been two mischievous kids up to no good, hiding under wagon wheels, waiting for an unsuspecting pair of shoes to stop within reach. A quick tug and tie would leave the unsuspecting soul with shoes knotted together. The two boys would roll out from under the wagon and run down the street laughing, their pursuer hopping after them. Under the drooping blue hood, a smile formed on Eric’s face—a strange look for someone walking in a desert lightning storm in the middle of nowhere.

But t
hen, his thoughts darkened. He dug deeper into a life that was never really his. He began recalling old memories long forgotten—someone else’s memories.

Son, I said do it again. Your swordsmanshi
p cannot be average. It must be magnificent
.

“I’m not your son, Corelle Ne
nkara,” Eric growled, hood draped low over his face while he walked.

No
, son. You can’t play with Jacob today. Don’t ask me why, just do as I say. Now go back to your studies
.

“I’m asking you why, father,”
Eric hissed, staring down at his feet. Lightning lit up the ground in front of him. For an instant he could clearly see his black boots against the orange cracked clay. “Why? Why can’t someone else save mankind? Why wasn’t I given a choice?” He rolled back a sleeve, gazing down at his scarred arms. Ancient symbols had been burned deep into his flesh. “This is more real than my life ever was,” he muttered.

Eric
stopped and pulled back his hood. There it was right before him. Had he really covered that much distance so quickly? Or had the mountain finally stopped moving away from him? It was even larger than he first judged. Even as dark as it was, it seemed to shine somehow, reflecting the light of the storm as easily as any diamond.

“So you’re
the thing I’m supposed to fear,” he grumbled under his breath. “I hear you’ve taken many lives throughout the centuries. Tell me, black rock, is it true?” Lightning flashed again, only this time, it was followed by the long, slow rumble of thunder. It almost sounded like laughter coming directly from the mountain itself. “Well then,” said Eric, sneering. “Let the trials begin.”

He
started forward, not even sure where to begin. The shadowy walls looked slick and steep. They would be extremely difficult to scale even with a rope and hook. But with no equipment of any kind...impossible. When he got closer, he saw something carved into the stone: a series of mini ledges, each one slightly higher that the last. “Stairs?” Eric whispered, raising an eyebrow. He nearly laughed. “So this is how so many before me were able to climb you?” His smile faded. “But I suppose the challenge has nothing to do with the climb itself.”

The steps were nowhere near as slick as they looked, but they were narrow and uneven.
Eric remained cautious, taking one careful step at a time. After each step, he pivoted the ball of his foot back and forth to be sure the footing was sound. Even with these “stairs” in place, a single misstep and he could tumble to the ground.  

After a time, he realized his
initial guess about the stairway had been wrong. He assumed the steps wound around the entire mountain, eventually leading to the top. But this was not the case. They snaked up a single side, weaving back and forth. This offered at least some relief. If he were to fall, he would have at least a couple chances at landing back on the steps below.

The steps became
smoother and steeper the further up he went. The once squared-off, cornered edges began to round out, seeming more like smooth bumps than steps. Even the flat tops began to slant at uneven angles. He needed to lean forward now, using his hands and feet for leverage.

The trials will test the subject
’s strength, skill, and his love.
Wara’s words echoed through his head while he climbed. What was that supposed to mean, anyway? He stopped a moment to catch his breath. Now that he had gained some elevation, it was time to get a good look at his surroundings. But even now, the scenery hadn’t changed much at all. Endless desert stretched for as far as the eye could see.
How is this possible? How can this mountain be the only thing for miles and miles? Where could I possibly be
? 

He looked up again, trying to
remap his rapidly fading route, when something caught his eye. It was still a ways up, but there appeared to be some sort of ledge directly in the path. A stone platform, it looked like.
If I could just make it there, at least I could rest a while. Maybe even spend the night
. Eric snorted at the thought. Who could tell if it was day or night here? The sky was always black. The only light source seemed to be the constant lightning.

He
pushed on, trying to watch his step while crawling upward on all fours. A long time had passed before he finally approached what looked to be a large stone disk blocking the path. The steps led directly underneath, where it connected into the mountainside. Eric reached up, feeling along its bottom while making sure his footing was secure.

The stone
was not cool like he expected. Instead, it was dry and warm to the touch. He glanced to his left, then to his right. The sides of the mountain were glossy and smooth. Not slick, exactly, but definitely no place to gain proper footing.
I guess there is only one way to get on top of this thing
.

Eric
ran his hands beneath the platform, keeping his feet braced against the steps. He stretched hard, rising up to the tip of his toes. Only inches away from the edge, he needed to make a choice. Not tall enough to stretch any further, he would have to jump backward and hope he could still hang onto the edge. Of course, if he couldn’t hang on, nothing would stop his long plunge to the bottom.

I’ve only got one shot at this
... Eric pushed off his toes, leaving his feet. His fingers grasped desperately along the edge. Dirt slipping underneath his fingertips, his left hand slipped away, but his right hand held for the moment. Panic swelled up as he swung from one hand, fingers burning from holding his full weight. With a monstrous effort, he swung his left hand back up, gripping the edge once more. Once both hands were secure, he was able to pull himself up the rest of the way.

Once on the platform, Eric roll
ed to his back, breathing hard. His chest heaved up and down, sweat running from his temples. It was unnerving how close he had come to falling to his death. He rolled his head to the side, only now beginning to catch his breath. Two shadowed sockets stared back at him from a white, bony face.

Startled, h
e sat up then sprung to his feet, gazing at the adventurer’s remains. It was clear he had been dead a very long time. There was nothing left but a skeleton wearing a breastplate and rotted pants. Although faded, Eric could still make out the red lion’s head painted on the armor.

As he looked around the platform, the same horror
s lay everywhere. The dried husks of long-dead soldiers lay scattered about. Eyeless black sockets stared back at him, each begging to tell their tale. Wanting to be acknowledged for what they tried to do here, they pleaded for him to head back the way he came.

Some wore iron helmets
, and long bits of stringy hair hung from underneath. Other skeletons wore little more than tattered pieces of cloth, now rotted beyond recognition. Mismatched pieces of armor and a sword or two lying a few inches from an open, bony hand were also scattered about. The whole scene looked like the ancient remains of some great massacre. But Eric knew better...

Although bunched together, t
hese men had met their fates at completely different eras. Many years apart certainly, and more likely centuries. These men who once believed themselves the Shantie Rhoe now lay here, bound together in eternal sleep. Eric shook his head in sadness. In all likelihood, they were simply mad. Nothing more.
Why else would they have come here on their own
?

More importantly
, what killed them? Shouldn’t these bodies be scattered evenly, found in equal proportions throughout the mountain? Why so many right on this spot? Wara’s words echoed through his head once more.
The trials will test the subject’s strength, skill, and his love.
Was seeing all this death somehow part of the trials? A test? Eric just didn’t know.

“Is this it?” he shouted. His voice echoed across the mountain
, down through the desert below. “After what I’ve seen, am I supposed to flee in terror at the sight of more death? Mere corpses?” He looked around once more. “Well, I see them, oh wise spirits of old. If this is your daunting test—”

The
rock began to shake and vibrate underneath his feet, producing a rolling rumble so brief, he thought he might have imagined it. But the second vibration was unmistakable. The stone platform began to shake so violently it nearly knocked him to the ground. Small bits of rock fell from up above, clacking all around him against the stone. The empty sockets of long-dead heroes seemed to stare right through him as their skulls rattled around, their bony jaws clicking open and shut. Was this just forced movements from the shaking platform, or were they laughing at him? Laughing at the next Gate Keeper, one of many, who didn’t heed their warning when he had the chance. And now it was too late.

Eric tried
to steady himself, arms flailing about to help retain his balance. Abruptly, the shaking stopped. With a hand gripping the pommel of his sword, he looked about, wondering what could have caused such a thing.

A low
, grinding sound rumbled from the face of the mountain: the sound of stone scraping against stone. Still gripping his sword, he slowly backed away, stopping when he could go no farther without falling. The smooth, black stone wall began to move upward. Black dust sifted from the sides, flowing like sand from an hourglass. Once it had risen over ten feet, it stopped moving. The grinding sound ceased. All was deathly quiet. Eric found himself staring into blackness; a giant chasm opened wide before him.

Eric unleashed Spark
in a burst of flame. He twirled it once over his head, forming a swirl of fire. Thick flakes of black ash fluttered down like burnt moths. “Show yourself!” Eric shouted, his booming voice echoing across the desert below. He looked around at the bodies once more. “Come forth! I wish to see what killed these men so I may return the favor.” He crouched down, sword point straight out—Smoldering Leaf, a ready battle stance he had used countless times. Allow the enemy to come to you, then strike with fury.

There came a
sharp hissing sound from the darkness, like steam rushing through a teapot. A pair of red eyes materialized. The hissing sound repeated as two more sets of eyes appeared. The thumping of approaching footsteps shook the stone. But even as the massive, shadowed outline emerged, Eric didn’t move. He held his ground, like a coiled snake ready to strike.

Emerging from the cover of shadow came
the largest beast he’d ever seen. It had a humanlike head, but had six red eyes, two rows of three. An enormous flat nose pierced with a gold hoop split his entire face, nearly touching each large, rounded ear. Long, greasy black hair hung low, partially hiding its wide smile—an eerie grin with perfect, gleaming teeth that didn’t belong on a thing so grotesque.

Even a
t around eight feet tall, the creature actually seemed stocky due to its wide, incredibly muscular build. It sported four legs and two arms, all thicker than any man’s body, and skin so pale the creature looked white as snow. Its massive arms ended in bony hooks instead of hands. Eric guessed it had to weigh more than an elephant, and none of it was fat.

The beast charged
forward, galloping like a rhino, scalding steam spraying from its impossibly wide nose. Eric held his stance; he waited, waited, then dipped his shoulder and rolled to the side. A bony hook carved deep into the stone where he had just been, while a second swiped at his back, missing by inches. Eric rolled up to his feet, then turned back and charged the beast, his blazing red sword spewing black ash.

At the last second Eric ducked down
into another summersault as two crossing hooks slashed the air over the top of him. He rolled right between the creature’s legs, lashing out with Spark. The monster howled, stumbling backward, limping on its newly gashed thigh. The cut was deep; the tangy smell of burnt flesh quickly filled the air.

Eri
c dropped back down into his defensive stance, Smoldering Leaf. With one leg severely wounded, the beast appeared apprehensive. There was a strange intelligence in those shiny red eyes. This was a thinking creature, not to be taken lightly. It roared with rage, clanking its hooks together in a thunder-like clap. It came at him again, only this time it was moving sideways like a crab in a more cautious, measured attack.

Er
ic stood his ground, slowly raising his blade. Their eyes met; for an instant, time meant nothing. Eric wanted this thing to look into his eyes, to see him for what he was—to see into his soul. He wanted the beast to experience, for the first time in its whole existence, what fear really was.