Chapter 11 - Yggdrasil

  Zajowle entered the second room. He wasn’t a fan of the Trial of Fear, but it wasn’t too bad. Now he stood in front of the most enchanting tree he had ever seen. Silver and golden leaves that gave off a faint glow attached to a white alabaster trunk. Never has he seen anything like it.

  “Welcome,” came a voice speaking fluent Kobal. The sound of his native tongue caught him off-guard. He hadn’t even spoken his birth language since leaving his clan. Hearing it now was unsettling.

  “I must say this is a surprise,” the voice came again. “This place has been busier recently than it has been for a long time, but I think you might be the first… kobold… that I have seen. Are you a newly integrated race like the humans as well?”

  “No,” Zajowle called out to the room. He spoke in the human tongue, English, not wanting to speak in his native language. There were two reasons for this. The main reason was that he didn’t care to hear it more than he had to, and the second because he was curious to see if the voice would understand if he used a different language.

  “You know English as well?” the voice called back in English, answering the unspoken question.

  “I do,” Zajowle said. “I prefer to converse in other languages than in Kobal, if that is okay.”

  “That is your choice,” the voice said. “It is an interesting language but if you rather use another, that is fine.”

  “Thank you. Can I ask who is speaking right now?”

  “Who else?” the voice called again, and then almost in a whisper. “Why does everyone ask that?”

  “I’m sorry,” Zajowle said. “I do not see anyone else in this room. Are you the Moderator of the Trial by chance?”

  “I remember being called that a long time ago. I don’t think it was a name though. Maybe a title? But you have also been staring at me since you walked in. I should probably mention that I am the tree in front of you. No one makes that connection. My name is Arbour.”

  “Ah, I see now,” Zajowle said. “Forgive me. It is my first time meeting a sentient tree. Most that reach that level ascend to the next realm.”

  “I’m not sure if I am able to ascend yet,” Arbour said. “I think I’m close, but I think I’m missing something. Do you know what that could be?”

  “I’m afraid I am not an expert on the path of trees,” Zajowle said. “Perhaps an elf I know would, but there is something I would like to ask first if you are able to tell me. It is not something that concerns the Trial.”

  “Answering the Candidate’s questions is part of my responsibility,” Arbour said. “It is supposed to be things pertaining to the Trial, but I don’t see the harm. There are some things I cannot speak on and many I know nothing about.”

  “That is understandable,” Zajowle said. “Tell me, are you a child of Yggdrasil?

  Arbour was silent for a minute before answering. “I don’t know what Yggdrasil is. But I have seen the name several times before. All I can say is that there might be a connection, but I don’t know if that makes me one of its children.”

  “It’s unimportant,” Zajowle said. That was already enough of a confirmation. “As I said before, I’m no expert. It was a simple curiosity only. In any case, I am certain I know two individuals that would love to meet you.” Zajowle scowl for a moment. “And one that will not like this at all.”

  “I always like meeting new candidates,” Arbour said. “But I rather not meet any more rude people.”

  Zajowle squinted at that statement. “What do you mean any more rude people?” The only people that he knew that entered this place recently were the humans in their group, and while they were a strange bunch, he didn’t think any of them would’ve been rude. At least not intentionally.

  “There have been a few that came to take the Trial recently,” Arbour said. “But I was not a fan of the second person to come through the Trial recently. Got a bad feeling from that person.”

  Zajowle frowned. “Are you talking about a human named Teresa?”

  “Oh, you know Teresa?” Arbour said excitedly. “No, she was fun. This one came before her.”

  “Then you mean Jack?”

  “You know Jack as well?” Arbour said. “He helped me pick my name. I hope he is doing okay. He had a rough time in the Trial. No, it wasn’t him either.”

  “He is doing just fine,” Zajowle said. “But if it wasn’t Teresa or Jack, then I wonder who it might have been.”

  Zajowle felt he already knew the answer, but he wanted Arbour to confirm his suspicions.

  “All I know was that he was another human, and he went by the name Clayton,” Arbour said, confirming Zajowle’s fears.

  “Ah.. I see,” Zajowle said. “That is… concerning.”

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  “Is he another human you are familiar with?” Arbour asked. “You know a lot of them.”

  “I do, and yes,” Zajowle sighed. “I thank you for the information. I will have to let the others know.”

  “I’m afraid you will have to finish the rest of the Trials to do that,” Arbour said. “Now that you have started. You will have to complete it to leave.”

  “Naturally,” Zajowle said. “As important as this information is, I have no desire to leave before completing it. I do have one more question, but this is related to the Trial.”

  “Of course,” Arbour said.

  “The reward for the Trial mentions that new classes will become available,” Zajowle said. “Is this true for those who have already chosen their classes?”

  “I believe so,” Arbour said. “So long as they are early on their path. The Trial was only meant for people who haven’t made any true commitment to a path yet, and the earlier the better. If you have already chosen a class, then it might not help as much, but I think the reward for completing the Trial will still grant you upgraded variants or changes to your existing classes. It will depend on the individual. So long as there isn’t any message about the reward being blocked. But I cannot confirm that. Just things I remember being told.”

  “That is good to hear,” Zajowle said. “In that case, I should get back to the Trials.”

  *~*

  Clayton stared at the elf before him. He had a Wenduag holding him in place, bound over a large rock as two more Wenduags stood guard. The elf’s shirt was removed so it wouldn’t get in the way as Clayton worked. With the fulfillment of his quest to free the imprisoned paths of corruption, Clayton finally managed to change his class from Beastmaster to Blood Mage.

  A small part of him feared that the change would have stripped him of his previous class’s abilities and stats. That would have meant starting over again. It was a price he would have still paid but was glad when the old class was removed, and the new one gained with no loss of his powers.

  Clayton still had access to all his Beastmaster abilities and now he could begin to grow his Blood Mage abilities without worry. The only downside he found was that the skills and spells that were tied to his old class now lacked some of the inherited power and natural understanding he was used to. It was an adjustment, but that was such a small price to pay for what he got in return.

  Of course, now Clayton was facing the daunting task of improving his Blood Mage class. This proved to be more difficult than he had expected. The class didn’t grow the same way as his Beastmaster class had. Killing creatures through his pets had no effect on the class. Instead, he found himself in the unusual position of having to get his own hands dirty, but even killing creatures with his own hands proved useless. Luckily, Clayton still had his Master to guide him on these matters, though his Master was not reaching out as often as Clayton was used to.

  Under his Master’s guidance, Clayton started focusing on the knowledge granted to him upon attaining the class. Most classes gave a skill or spell upon acquiring them, but the Blood Mage class gave neither. Instead, it granted him information pertaining directly to blood magic in the form of a ritual.

  Rituals were not a simple thing. In all the time that Clayton had spent here, he never attempted one, and even among the established races, only specialized experts performed them when needed. Now Clayton’s only path forward was through this Blood Pact ritual.

  It had taken time, but Clayton finally acquired all the materials he needed to attempt his first ritual. The most difficult part was finding strong sources of corrupted blood to use for the ritual. Luckily, the goblins proved to be a treasure trove of corrupted energies and materials including corrupted blood. Clayton had to treat a dagger in their blood for several days, using nothing but his Mana Manipulation skill to infuse the dagger with the needed stain of corruption.

  Clayton stared at the elf’s back, envisioning the diagram he needed to tattoo there. It was imprinted in his mind and recalling it was a simple task. He picked up the dagger, cutting the palm of his hand with it. The Wenduag held the elf roughly, not allowing the elf to move. Even the smallest flinch could ruin the tattoo and ritual. He couldn’t allow that.

  Suffusing the blood from his palm with his Mana, Clayton coated the edge of the blade with it. He placed the dagger on the elf’s back and began infusing the energy into the elf. The elf grimaced in pain trying to fight back. Clayton ignored it, continuing with his work. Raw lines of power began to appear across the elf’s back in an intricate weave of symbols. It was an exhilarating process. Exhilarating, but also painful. Clayton knew just how painful it was. He felt everything the elf felt. The ritual created a bond between him and the elf and everything Clayton did to the elf, he felt in turn.

  A competition of wills was starting to take place between Clayton and the elf. This was the risk of using such a ritual. At this point, there was a chance the elf could win the struggle and gain control. Then Clayton would be its thrall, which is why Clayton chose the weakest of the elves to begin with. His Beastmaster’s skills also created a battle of wills when he dominated a beast, but the connection was not as direct as this one was. If he failed to subdue the beast, the worst he would deal with was a backlash. With time, his Master told him he could alter his Beastmaster’s skills to work with his Blood Mage class. That would let him take control of people in the same way he did with his beasts. It would be a safer way, but this path demanded that he take this risk in the beginning. The only good part of all this was that if it worked, then his control over the elf would be permanent, unlike that of the Wenduags.

  Clayton continued to work, power flowed through the dagger and into them. He could feel the connection grow stronger, and shortly afterwards a new presence emerged in his mind. The diagram wasn’t finished, but the clash of their minds had begun. Clayton couldn’t stop his work, but he still had to break the will of the man before him. He was almost worried until he realized the strength of the elf’s will was a pitiful thing. He chose right to make this his first thrall.

  Clayton overwhelmed the elf with his own will. He felt the presence collapse and disappear. As Clayton finished his work, he took a moment to admire the design. It would take more than magic to remove this tattoo. Once he was done, Clayton had the Wenduag release the elf, turning him over so he could see the result of his handiwork.

  Living, breathing, but the eyes were clouded, devoid of personality. Clayton could still feel the elf though. Like a phantom limb in the back of his mind. With a small tug on the presence, Clayton was able to get the elf to stand up and walk around. Little better than a marionette, but it was only the beginning. With time and practice he would be able to gain control of them while letting them keep some semblance of individuality.

  Yes, the ritual was a great success, and proof came in as the System Messages started appearing.

  *Level up! Blood Mage (Level 2)*

  +1 Int./Wis. +2 Con./Char. +1 unallocated

  *Level up! Blood Mage (Level 3)*

  +1 Int./Wis. +2 Con./Char. +1 unallocated

  It was a good start. Or it would have been, if Clayton hadn’t noticed the smallest breeze in his tent. He might not have noticed it, but he designed this place to be undisturbed by anything, including the smallest gust of wind. His eyes flashed with a gold and silver light, and he managed to get the barest glimpse of a creature as it fled from his tent.