The Tale of a Trinacornagon

[Unitopia, Eastern Continent]

The movements of the stars hid secrets, their shifting lines mapping out meaning. But secrets remained hidden for a reason, and it was often the case that meaning carried with it infection.

For many, such cautionary tales did little to dissuade them, too desperate or prideful to think of anything other than success. For most, the secrets remained hidden, veiled from their incapable sight.

For the few, what they uncovered drove them mad, tearing at their sanity like rabid dogs, leaving behind an empty husk.

And for the chosen, the soldier whose name had been stolen, all that was left was hate.

Hatethe stars. Hate what they stand for. Hate. Hate. HATE!

HATE THEIR MOCKING GAZE! HATE THEIR PIERCING LAUGHTER! HATE THEIR MALEVOLENT GLEE!

TEAR THEM DOWN FROM ATOP THEIR FALSE THRONES! EXTINGUISH THEIR HIDEOUS LIGHT! LET THEM FEEL CRIMSON FEAR!

He had seen their secrets, and past the threshold where all others recoiled, he stepped forwards without hesitation. Purpose alit his footsteps, strengthened his soul, enhanced his existence. A body that should have succumbed to injury, a mind that should have succumbed to pain, a will that should have shattered against their unfathomable existence.

And yet he walked the path unfalteringly. Their mocking cries had not grown more distant, if anything they raved and gibbered and gnawed away at his sanity even more for it. And yet, like a stone monolith, he was unchained.

At his core, his oath burning bright, a torch against the encroaching void. Flowing into it torrents of resentment in the forms of whispers that called to him of their own pain, their own anguish, their own deaths. Called to him, blamed him, entrusted him with all that they had left.

Infused him with all that they had left.

A gift, a burden, that he would gladly take on. A spear that he would gladly sharpen, for he had designated himself the Hunter. And in this dark forest, if you are not the Hunter, then you can only be Prey.

Regardless of where you may stand, a spear from the shadows is fit to take down even a behemoth. A spear, sharpened against the whetstone of his will, its blade shall taste only agony until that day comes when its true purpose is made.

Soon...

But such grand matters were beyond him, for now. Before then, he would first have to figure out how to survive the next five seconds.

Things are not looking good...

Somewhere within the wreckage of a colossal battle, nestled within an even larger uninhabited zone of death, a small, battered figure stood before a misshapen titan. A moth before a tiger. A mortal before a god.

That is to say things were, indeed, not looking good.

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***

A red robed figure walked amongst the carnage rather languidly, occasionally pausing to study a particularly interesting piece with a pink crystal monocle affixed to his right eye. His only eye, its left pair appeared to have been torched off, leaving behind a hideous scar of burn tissue.

HIs robes were lined with a luxurious trim, silver in colour to denote his status as Arbiter Prime. Trailing behind him, notebook in hand, was a younger figure. Clad in similar robes, though of a grey colour, the young girl's piercing eyes were jarring on her youthful face, surveying the surroundings with a calculating gaze.

"Arbiter, what is the use in visiting here? Such a newly developed graveyard is surely useless to our development?"

The red-robed figure did not look up from his detailed examination of a piece of burnt shrapnel, replying without turning his head.

"Hmmm, usually that would be the case. There is never a true shortage in a place like this that would necessitate digging through scraps. But in this case you would be wrong, my chubby little apprentice. Within this pile of rubbish, is gold."

He punctuated his words with a flourish of his hands, turning around, his robes swishing. The piece of burnt shrapnel had disappeared, or perhaps its sooty coating had simply disappeared, revealing a golden metal shining iridescently in light from the blue sun.

Just as his apprentice drew closer, awe on her face, he threw it to the side and it disappeared amongst the rubbish. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued.

"Well, truth is gold isn't of much use to use either. No, the reason we are here is twofold. It is-."

He paused, as if suddenly realising something.

"Ah yes, this is a good 'teaching opportunity' or whatever it is Cassius was going on about. How about you tell me, apprentice, why are we here? I have already given you a clue: there are two reasons at least."

The young girl put a hand on her chin, her brows furrowing in thought.

"Well, knowing you, this could just be a trick question. We aren't just here on another one of your whims?"

She fixed her eyes onto the red-robed figure with a piercing stare. He held up his hands in mock surrender, chuckling.

"Such a gaze could melt even steel! No, no, little apprentice. This time we are indeed here for a perfectly 'legitimate' reason, no matter how much such a thing grates at me."

Returning to her thinking pose, the grey-robed apprentice fell into a state of deep concentration, muttering out loud her thoughts.

"Well, the real question is not why we came, but how? What could bring, of all people, this particular Arbiter Prime to a place like this? One man's waste is another man's treasure, perhaps, but a place like this is a dime-a-dozen. So why here? Maybe the timing? Or perhaps this place hides something important? No he wouldn't bring an apprentice on such an important mission like that, would he?"

She looked up at the Arbiter Prime who was looking off into the distance sheepishly. Sighing, she asked exasperatedly.

"Well, was I correct?"

Coughing, the Arbiter Prime replied.

"Ahem, yes well as always I am reminded by your keen insight why I chose you as my apprentice. We were indeed sent here upon orders from high up. Of course, how could I miss a 'teaching opportunity' such as this one? Even I cannot guarantee what we are about to face, and learning to deal with that is exactly what you must overcome."

He paused, adding in a not-so-subtle attempt at pandering to his errant apprentice.

"Of course, such a risk would not be without requisite reward. Should your performance impress me, I shall recommend you for promotion."

The grey-robed apprentice seemed to be trying to stay angry at her irresponsible teacher, but the allure of the promised reward was too sweet for her not to given. She replied in a begrudging tone.

"Fine then, I suppose that does sound pretty good."

"Well," the Arbiter Prime spoke quickly, checking a golden pocket watch. "Now that we have that out of the way, how about we have our first little mock test now?"

At the same moment as his question, a piercing shriek could be heard from the skies above them. A flock of vultures circled over-head, eyeing the two individuals down below. The Arbiter stepped back, indicating his stance of non-interference with crossed arms. Almost as if they understood such a gesture, the vultures dived down onto the grey-robed apprentice below without hesitation.

Scrambling with a pack at her waste, she fixed a pointed glare at her teacher who had been distracted by another shiny rock on the ground.

Well, no sword was ever forged without being smelted first. Or something like that, I guess.