War of Dawn - Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The Test

Date: 1003 After Dawn, July 6th

Another three weeks of excruciating training had passed, with Hilda having even less time to take a breather now that spellweaving has been thrown into the mix. The Scion's spellbook is a leather-bound, eight hundred and forty-page monstrosity that she is convinced could be used as a weapon by itself. Glyphs upon glyphs of all four tiers lay within – as well as the proper visualization to cast them – and she is expected to master as many as she can. It's not easy in the slightest but she has been going through it whenever there's time.

Over by the training grounds, Ryouma is spending this evening putting Hilda through a mix of attack and defense drills meant to assess her progress. He summons several FireBolts to attack and she manages to either dodge or parry them on approach without trouble. He conjures moving lava dummies around her and she cuts them in half one after another, always maintaining proper form, manipulating her weapon and never letting her guard down for when he tries surprising her with another Bolt.

"Very good, you seem to have picked up your stride," Ryouma says, dispelling the dummies with a clap of his hands. "How are you feeling?"

Hilda puts on her most confident face and does her best not to appear too breathless. "P-Pretty good - I could do this for hours, Shishou!"

"I'm glad to hear that but I believe you may sheathe your blade for now. Let's see how you're doing with spells... Can you show me a quick Shield?"

Hilda takes a couple of deep breaths to recover before starting to visualize the glyph. The lightning element gathers on her hand, she rolls it to form a circle and with five motions of her fingers draws the pentagon to finish it.

"Ten seconds... Not bad, not bad at all!" Ryouma exclaims with a satisfied grin before summoning two distant lava dummies. "Next, strike the one on the left with a bolt and the one on the right with a discharge from your blade."

"Aye, aye!" she says, excited with his praise. Ten more seconds and the LightningBolt spell flies off from Hilda's palm, striking the dummy with a loud crackle and blowing its “head” away. When it comes time to hit the other one, however, the streak of electricity from her sword isn’t as impactful. "Hrm... it's a bit too far."

"No, you just need to put a bit more 'oomph' into it. Do you remember when I taught you about kiai?" Ryouma asks.

"Helps you learn how to breathe properly when attacking, yeah?"

"Yes but it also serves to give you a boost in confidence and focus when attacking," he says, raising his fist with excitement. "Lay your fighting spirit into your attacks with a fierce yell and you'd be surprised at the difference it can make."

Hilda isn’t convinced, raising an eyebrow at his somewhat childish glee. "Really...?"

"Oh, ye of little faith... Let me borrow your weapon for a second.”

Hilda decides to indulge him. Taking position right where she stood, Ryouma conjures a pair of fresh dummies afar as gives her a confident wag of his eyebrows. He raises the weapon above his head and breathes in.

"Ches...TOH!" he yells, swinging downwards.

From his blade, a bright red and orange a current of flame flies off, ripping across the floor and obliterating the dummy into ash. Hilda's jaw drops. "See? And it makes even more sense since you're a lightning user. Go and add a mighty thunderclap to your strikes!"

She answers only with a nodding shrug, unable to really say anything against that after seeing it in action. Getting her sword back, Hilda takes position and does as Ryouma did: raise the sword above her head and breathe in...

"Ches...TOH!!" she yells and off goes her streak of lightning, zipping through the training grounds until it crashes against the dummy, ripping it to a couple of pieces. "Well, hey! It worked!"

Ryouma crosses his arms and stands tall, a know-it-all grin on his face. "Hm! Never underestimate how little things like this can help in big ways. The kiai aside, I would even say you are welcome come up with names for your best attacks!"

"Calling out names...? Now that's just silly." Hilda says, her previous look of admiration once more replaced with a dubious stare.

"Hah, I said the same thing to the man who taught me that and his answer was 'It's hard for people to think you're silly when you're standing atop a pile of vanquished foes'. At least attack names can be plenty quick to say in Japanese and you just feel this rush of satisfaction with your handiwork when it all happens perfectly..."

Hilda watches as his eyes alight with excitement, like a child envisioning a grand birthday party.

She can appreciate enjoying what you do but his attitude just strikes her as… odd. "You know what? Vanessa was right. You really are a little boy on the inside."

"If it works, it works. Trust me; I've been doing it for over thirty years as a Scion," he fires back with a quick wink, unaffected by her verbal jabs.

"Well... if you say so, maybe there's something to it. Maybe."

“Oh, you’ll come around to it.” Ryouma says with a satisfied smile. “But I can educate you on this later. Why don't you go have dinner and rest for the remainder of the night?"

Hilda nearly loses the grip on her sword at hearing that. Her chestnut eyes wide as if to escape her head, she answers him smiling from ear to ear. "Really?! I can?"

"Indeed. Consider it a reward for all your effort," he says and once is all she needs.

"Alright! Thanks a bunch, Shishou! See you tomorrow!" she answers in a single string of words.

Putting her sword away in a hurry, she gives him a quick hug and dashes right towards the exit of the training grounds. Hilda didn't mention it but she is starving - so much so that she actually casts the Haste Glyph in eight seconds in an effort to get to the dining hall faster.

At dinner time, the place is quite the different sight from when Hilda first laid eyes upon it. The then empty tables now filled with plates, shiny silverware and steins, the chandeliers all lit up with glowing white lights which reflect on the stained glass windows and, of course, several hundreds of Scions eating, laughing and talking in a loud cacophony. The food is as varied as advertised, including red and white meats, fish, vegetables, fruit, cheese, pasta, grain and so many kinds of spices... anything to make sure the weary and hungry Scions who return from assignments find something to their liking.

Everything's laid out across the tables, free for anyone to take a portion, and several waiters can be seen undergoing the ever familiar back-and-forth from the kitchen. This is one of the few parts of Valarheim Keep where you can find non-Scions, as the waiters and kitchen staff are mostly third-party workers from across the world.

Amidst the hubbub of dinnertime, Hilda quickly spots Paula’s quill-held hair eating at one of the large tables. She'd met with her on a few other occasions but the two of them have been leading such busy schedules that they only had a few minutes to speak before someone had to get going. Those few minutes were about the most relaxing moments of Hilda's day, however, so she is very happy whenever she spots her friend.

"Hello there," she greets Hilda. "I wasn't expecting to see you here at this time. Is there a problem?"

"No, no, everything's good. Master Ryouma let me off early – told me to take the rest of the night to relax, even!" she answers, grabbing pieces of roasted chicken, rice and green salad from nearby dishes. All this training leaves her so hungry that she could an entire table’s worth of food by herself.

Paula’s eyebrows frown in confusion before shooting right up. "He did? That doesn't— oh...!"

"What? You know something?" Hilda asks.

"Oh, pay me no mind. I suppose even he can give breaks when the mood strikes!" Paula waves her hand in dismissal and bearing a strained smile.

"Well, I'm not complaining. After all this training, I'll take any chance for some extra shut-eye," Hilda huffs, stuffing her mouth full of food. "What about you? How're things with El— with Lady Eliza?"

"Hectic as always, though she insisted that I took an hour off to 'relax and eat'. Do you have any idea how much paperwork there is in an organization like this? The commandant never takes time off, so I shouldn't either," Paula pouts, bearing a sullen gaze at the simple tomato salad she’s fiddling with – not eating.

Hilda's realized over these weeks that the girl, despite how young she is, is quite the workaholic. Most of her busy schedule is self-imposed, as she dedicates nearly all her non-training hours to helping Eliza. "Yeah, I noticed that. She's never here to eat, always at her office even way early in the morning... How does she pull that off?"

"Scions like our generals have such a deep connection to the flow of Prana that it sustains their bodies at perfect health – they don't need to eat, drink, sleep and the like," Paula answers with a longing sigh. "I wish I could do that..."

"But, hey, the lady herself sent you here so she clearly wants you to put your feet up at least for a little bit. Oh, and look over there," Hilda says, pointing to a distant corner of the table where Owen's sitting. "Even Sir Blondie finds the time to do so."

"And if you look to his right, you'll see our spellbook. He's still working, even now."

"Ah, damn it... you ask any miner in Litnir and they'll tell you how not taking breaks can blow up in your face. No wonder he's always so high-strung." Hilda flips her hand at him, more interested in getting a second serving.

A knowing smile breaks across Paula’s lips as she cocks her head closer to Hilda. "Well, why don't you invite him to join us, then, if you say this is so important?"

One second is all it takes for her face to shift to a very irritated frown. "What? But... but he's such a—"

"He's your future partner and you've been giving him the evil eye for a month now. Might as well talk to him again and see if you two can't make nice," Paula argues before pointing straight to Owen. "Go or I'm heading back to work right now."

Hilda narrows her lips and stares at the girl’s dark eyes, friendly but also firm as a rock. She’s spending too much time with the commandant, to have such an authoritarian tone to her voice.

"Urgh, fine…" Hilda sighs with annoyance, figuring she’d best do this quick to get back to her food. "But, you know, there's something wrong about being ordered around by a girl two years younger than me.”

However, despite her grumpy sniffing, Hilda knows Paula has a point. Ryouma and Vanessa haven't picked up any other recruits or shown signs of deciding to pair them with other people. They’ll need to at least learn to deal with each other. But, if all those years waitressing have taught her anything, it’s how to put up a smile even to people she didn't like - time to break out the old playbook. Stepping slowly, hoping for an emergency dispatch or whatever to stop this, she makes her way over to Owen's seat as Paula watches with an eager smile.

"Good evening, partner," she says.

Owen doesn't answer, his eyes fixated on a glyph in his spellbook.

"Listen, I know we got off on the wrong foot but I think we can turn this around if we just talk for a bit," Hilda continues, still no answer from Owen. "Why don't you come sit with us over there?"

Silence, still. Hilda's patience is running short mighty quick – who the hell does this guy think he is?

"Come on, we're gonna have to work together at some point. You could at least meet me halfway."

"Why should I care to 'meet you halfway' when you do not do the same for me? You are still far too lacking as a warrior," he finally answers.

Hilda turns to Paula, her clenched jaw and veins pulsating in her neck giving out a very clear message. Paula still gestures her to keep trying.

"I know but I've been working as much as I can to close that power gap," Hilda argues, slowly counting in her head.

"Work harder. Your problems go beyond a mere difference in strength," he says coldly.

"Alright, that does it." Hilda grabs Owens spellbook and slams it shut before getting in his face. "You act as if I've been twiddling my thumbs these past two months! We're stuck with each other, so would it kill you to stop turning your nose up at me?"

"What are you expecting? That I jump for joy over the fact that I've been saddled with someone who, up until being recruited, had never even touched a weapon? Someone who lacks the fortitude for this?" he answers, now raising his voice in annoyance.

"I expect you to at least treat me like someone who didn't have the benefit of training since childhood and who's doing the best she can!"

"The corps can't afford to humor someone like that – not against an enemy like the Valnr and with all that's at stake!" Owen yells, pushing his chair aside and staring Hilda deep in her seething eyes. "Let me spell things out: as you are, you will get yourself killed and that, in turn, may well cost the lives of our comrades or, worse, of innocents!"

Owen's words cut deeper than he probably expected as Hilda bares her teeth at him the second they come out. Like a erupting geyser, a surge of anger bursts forth from deep within her. She steps closer and grabs him by the collar of his coat.

"I will not have people die because of me! You think I don't know how weak I am?! That's precisely why I'm busting my ass off training!" she yells, her fists clenched hard and poised to attack. "Your nonstop bellyaching isn't helping with anything and, for a knight, you're acting like a baby throwing a tantrum because he didn't get his way! Maybe I oughta slap some sense into you!"

"Speaking facts is not 'throwing a tantrum'! And I welcome you to try, so that I may show where you truly stand face an actual opponent!" Owen yells right back, shoving Hilda's hand aside. Both fail to notice that Paula is desperately gesturing for them to stop.

The two Scions glare at each other in silence, eyes boiling with fury, before eventually realizing that the area around them has cleared. Looking back at Paula, Hilda only has time to see her shaking her head, clutching her face with pity, before someone stomps over.

"What is all this racket in my dining hall?!" yells a woman's voice, so loud that it echoes across the entire room, silencing all others. It belongs to very stout woman in a simple yellow dress and apron, with her short, honey-colored hair kept inside a chef's hat and an indignant expression on her round face.

Hilda had seen this woman walking around the dining hall before and everyone always gave her a wide berth. She could now understand why as simply looking into her eyes would probably be enough to send a bear running for the hills. A far cry from sweet Edda and calm Gustaff, that's for certain.

"M-My Lady Greta... this isn't—" Owen stammers, his face showing previously unseen apprehension.

"Sshh! I don't want to hear it! We have hundreds of tired Scions in here who just want a nice meal and I'm sure that the last thing they need is some teenage drama!"

"Hey, he started— ow, ow, ow!" Hilda tries to argue back but she's interrupted as Greta grabs hers and Owen's ears and pulls them closer.

"It doesn't matter who started because I'm ending it. If you've so much energy that you're wasting it like this, then I'll help you put it to use. Get in the kitchen - now!" she yells with the force of an explosion before letting their ears go.

"Y-yes, ma'am!" Hilda and Owen immediately salute Greta before following her inside, staying in absolute silence lest the slightest peep trigger another storm.

What the two Scions endure in the next three hours is as grueling as the harshest training. Greta has Owen and Hilda help with every single conceivable task: cutting, shredding and peeling so many pieces of food, cleaning hundreds of plates and silverware, hauling dozens of kilos worth of trash, passing along messages to other workers and the most tiresome round of waiting tables that Hilda's had in her life. The many hungry men and women require a nigh constant flow of food before they're satisfied. This would be a nice wave of nostalgia for Hilda, if it wasn't so very brutal.

As it turns out, while Eliza is the leader of the corps, Greta is the queen of the dining hall and no one dares cross her in there – not even the generals. One worker even tells Hilda that, a few years back, Ryouma himself was put through the wringer at her hands. There is hardly any time to indulge in storytelling with all the back-and-forth going on, though.

When it's all over, both Scions are in a daze as they make it to the living quarters - too exhausted to bicker or even say anything. They just grunt something of a "good night" before heading to their rooms. When she comes in, Hilda simply drops onto her bed and faints before even hitting the mattress.

That is, until 02:00 when Ryouma opens her door and shakes her shoulder. Unlike before, this time he's wearing a white gi, a pair of black woolen pants and a green sash around his waist with his own katana tied to it. This sword is far more impressive than Hilda's: a white silk grip with a dragon-like adornment under the wraps, a grey square guard and a black polished scabbard decorated with the images of golden fishes.

"Wake up, Hilda," he says, prompting her to mumble something unintelligible before covering her head with her bed-sheet.

He sighs before going back into the corridor outside and opening up a nearby window – it is right above the moat that runs around Valarheim. Following a quick glyph, a wind current lifts Hilda's bed off the ground, moves out the window and, with a twist of Ryouma's hand, drops the sleeping girl into the cold water.

"Ät skit och dö din!" she yells after swimming to the surface and seeing Ryouma's smiling face over by the window.

"I tried waking you up nicely," he says, conjuring another gust of wind to bring her back up. "It's time for one last test to see if you're fit to be deployed. Go get ready and we'll head to the Hall of Soldiers."

As Ryouma pushes her back into her room soaking wet, Hilda seethes at his rude awakening. How hard would it be to murder a general...? she wonders

Running her hands across her face and mumbling a few more expletives, she changes into a dry set of clothes and shoes before grabbing her sword.

"This really couldn't wait until morning?" she asks him with a very vexed look on her face.

"Scions can be sent into the field at any time, so consider this part of your training," he answers with a nod. "Why are you so tired anyway? I ended things earlier precisely so you could conserve your energies for this."

"Greta..." she answers and Ryouma groans with sympathy.

"Oof. You did something to set her off, did you?"

"Owen and I got into a big argument and she didn't like it," Hilda says. "Three hours of nonstop work..."

"I feel your pain," Ryouma places his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, a guy there said you also had some problems with her before. What happened?" she asks, watching Ryouma's face shift into a look of pain she'd only expect to see prefacing a combat story. "At least tell me that if you're waking me up at two in the morning."

"Well, it was about ten years ago. This team I was working with had just cleared this big Valnr enclave and we felt like celebrating." he sighs. "We had a handful of pints to drink and, soon, I decided I should throw a roasted pig at this guy so he could show off his new attack."

"That sounds like a terrible idea."

"It was. There were bits of pig all over and you can be sure that Greta was not amused..." he continues, that quasi-thousand-yard stare returning to his face. "She ranted at us for an hour before making us spend another five counting grains of wheat in the storage room, on threat that we'd all be banned from the dining hall otherwise. I couldn't stand the smell of bread for an entire year after that..."

"Wow," Hilda's starting to think that she got off easy and takes a mental note to never, ever get on Greta's bad side again.

A few minutes later, they arrive at the Hall of Soldiers – the room filled with glass orbs that Hilda passed through when she first arrived in Valarheim.

"Where are we going, then?" Hilda wonders.

"You'll be accompanying me out into the field for this test but, also, there's something I want you to see out there. Now, put these on before we go," he says, handing Hilda some Alterium armor: a pair of bracers, a pauldron for her left shoulder, a simple breastplate and a pair of leggings. They're initially quite heavy and don't fit too well but that's easily fixed with some quick manipulation of the metal.

"Excellent. That'll provide you with some decent protection but, of course, blocking attacks with a Shield Glyph or outright dodging or parrying them is always preferred. Follow me," Ryouma continues, beckoning Hilda into the room with the massive, floating prism crystal. It's been two months since the last time she's laid eyes on it.

"I had almost forgotten how amazing that looked..." Hilda says.

"This is the Prime Gate Crystal and it is what we use to traverse great distances in the blink of an eye: all our outposts and embassies have regular Gate Crystals and they all connect to this one. With a proper spell, one can create passages from here to any of them," Ryouma explains, bringing her over to that man who, as before, is sitting on a wooden chair next to it.

Hilda hadn't paid him much attention considering everything that was going on last time but, taking a good look now, he seems to be in his thirties. He doesn't exactly have the most professional look to him, though: a simple, dirty-ish linen shirt and pants, unkempt, short brown hair and a scruffy beard. He was strumming a guitar when they entered but puts it down as they approach.

"Evenin', Ryouma. Got a late-night mission?" the man asks in a very easygoing tone.

"Not quite. I'm taking my apprentice for a small test," he answers. "Hilda, this is Walter Avery and he oversees the maintenance and use of the Prime Crystal."

"Pleased to finally meet ya; call me Wally if ya would."

"Good to meet you, too, Wally," Hilda smiles. "So, you can use this thing to send us to other places?"

"Yup. I can get y'all anywhere in the world so long as there's a Gate Crystal 'round."

"Really? How does that work?" she asks, curious.

"Ah, it ain't difficult once ya know the trick: each crystal's connected to this one through the flow; pop a good glyph, get a clear image of where yer sending people and ya can use that there connection to bend space and time, makin' a portal," he explains, like it's the simplest thing in the world. "But it'll be easier to just show it. Where're y'all going?"

"Outpost #43, please," Ryouma says before turning to Hilda. "That's right in the frontier between the southern and southeastern region of the Northern Reaches. It's a relatively safe area."

"Outpost #43, roger that!" Wally says as he gets up from his chair. Unlike the small glyphs Hilda's used to, he quickly draws a tier two glyph: two nested circles, various runes written in the space between them and, at the center, an equilateral triangle with lozenges over each edge.

He places the glyph over the Prime Gate Crystal, causing it to start spinning rapidly. After a few moments, the crystal splits off into several pieces that float in a circle. The pieces straighten themselves out as the glyph disappears between them, giving way to what looks like a mirror.

The mirror shimmers before growing transparent and, like looking through a window, Hilda can now see a Scion outpost on the other side.

"Off ya go," Wally says, giving Ryouma a small crystal shard before sitting back to strum his guitar once more.

Hilda's expecting a weird sensation when she steps through the portal. Much to her surprise, though, it actually doesn't feel any different from going through a regular door – only, one second ago she was in Valarheim and now she's out in the field.

The outpost itself is built as a simple stone fort, with high walls, a couple of strong wooden gates and an observation tower. There are a handful of simple buildings that act as the barracks for the local Scions, a dining/communal room, a storeroom and a command center.

"Not the coziest of places, is it," Hilda quips at the sight.

"It's not really meant to be. Most Scions get assigned to these outposts for a week and they spend 90% of that time out on patrol, coming back only to eat and sleep," Ryouma answers. "Once that week has passed, they go back to Valarheim and a new detachment comes over."

"I remember hearing people talk of finding Scions running around Litnir. They were these patrolmen, then?" Hilda asks with a pensive look, point towards a pair of Scions that leave through the wooden gate and run off into different directions.

"Right. Each outpost has at least one Scion acting as a 'Sensor' to detect any Valnr activity in a twenty kilometer radius. The scouts themselves patrol beyond that point and if any of them finds anything, information is sent to HQ who'll dispatch people to clean things up."

"And by 'anything', you mean Valnr enclaves, yeah? No one in Litnir knew what went on inside those things, other that it was crawling with bad stuff," she says.

"Enclaves – or rather, what lies within enclaves – are the centerpiece of the Valnr war effort in our world," Ryouma explains as he signals a Scion to open the outpost gate. "Come with me and I'll show you before we do the test. Can you keep up?"

As he says that, Ryouma conjures a Haste Glyph and starts giving off waves of flame around his body. Hilda does the same, still taking ten seconds to pull it off. Together, they start dashing through the darkened tundra, faintly illuminated by the nearly-full moon. While Hilda darts around in short bursts of electricity, Ryouma moves in a constant trail of fire that disappears right behind him.

"Prana exists in all living things and the Valnr came into this world to claim it to boost their own war against the Altr. This much you already know but have you any idea of how they actually make that happen?" he asks Hilda as they run due north.

"I don't, no," she shakes her head.

"Every Valnr enclave has a relic called a 'pylon' and after it's in place, it slowly begins powering up by absorbing Prana from the land. That process takes a while by itself, so the Valnr speed it up by infusing it with Prana from living creatures. Among those, humans have the largest quantity of the stuff – any person that dies in a pylon's vicinity gives it a decent charge."

That answers a few questions Hilda had since her childhood. She would hear of men, women and children in Litnir and neighboring cities being kidnapped by infiltrated necromancers, of enclaves being built nearby and whatnot, but had no idea what the Valnr were trying to do with these people. At least every time these things happened, the Scions intervened before anyone lost their lives, but, as Hilda herself knew, that still didn't make things completely safe.

"And what's all that for? What happens when the pylon's fully powered up?" she asks, worried about what the answer might be.

"You'll see soon enough." Ryouma answers.

They run for another twelve kilometers before a cliff emerges on their path. Ryouma sends Hilda towards it and she stops dead in her tracks when she gets close enough to see the land below. Just ahead, there's this cylinder-esque mass of pure dark energy enveloping a huge area whole. Even the land around it seems affected by its presence, with the ground colorless and sickly, nearby bushes and flower patches turned into ashen statues that would probably fall apart at the slightest touch and even the air itself feels empty.

Hilda has no idea of what she is looking at but something primordial inside her is screaming to stay away.

"Once it's charged, it unleashes the 'Dark Atrium', draining all the Prana that lies within an area of about sixty kilometers in diameter and sending it to the Valnr's world," Ryouma says somberly, his eyes fixated upon the field. "When a pylon activates, everything in its area of effect, down to the smallest bacteria, dies. The effect persists for centuries and any non-Valnr creature that trespasses into the Atrium will also succumb to its effect."

"Even Scions?"

"Yes. Once you enter an Atrium, you're trapped inside in the same way the Paling traps the Valnr. So, even though a Scion can somewhat resist its effects due to our connection to the flow of Prana, it makes no difference," he explains before giving Hilda a grim look. "A Novitiate like you would probably only last for a few seconds before your life faded but High Scions could survive for about ten minutes, while Ascended Scions, like me, could endure it for about thirty. Regardless, we'd all eventually die. Only someone who's unlocked the seal of the soul can actually survive inside and that hasn't happened in over eight centuries."

Hilda sits on the ground, staring intently at the Atrium, before asking: "Is it that difficult to get that final seal?"

"It is beyond us, that's what. While the seals of the body and heart are all located on our physical self, the seal of the soul is in our own essence – the Prana that's been within us since before we were born. Breaking the seal of the soul means exposing our very being to the entirety of the flow of Prana but we simply cannot withstand doing so."

"How come?" she asks, he furrowing brow showing a mix of inquisitiveness and worry.

"Have you ever poured a bucket of water into a river? The water quickly mingles and disappears as it touches the current," Ryouma explains, doodling in the snow to exemplify. "The same applies here: the flow of Prana is a mighty river enveloping the world and the bit that lies at our core is a minuscule bucket of water. When your Prana is exposed to the full might of the flow, it is unraveled and disappears into it... and your life follows suit."

"Hmm... but you said it happened before, so there's a way around that, right?"

"Indeed; should an Altr will it, it's possible for them to unite their divine Prana with that of a Scion. This strengthens the Scion's essence to the point where he can endure fully exposing himself to the flow. That, in turn, allows him not only to fully resist the Atrium but to wield enough power to outright dispel it," Ryouma says with a hopeful smile. "Scions who achieve this final step are the strongest of our kind and considered avatars of the gods."

"OK, so we need the Altr's help to break the last seal... I get that but, then, why haven't they done it for anyone right now?"

"The Altr are proud, nigh-eternal beings and our creators. Despite their wish to help us be victorious, they'd never consider uniting their Prana unless it's with someone of supreme worth. And, before you ask, no, we haven't the faintest idea of what it takes to be deemed as such," he explains.

Ryouma's voice bears a bit of a dejected tone. Understandable, seeing how both him and all other Ascended Scions must be banging their heads against this wall, knowing that it is only up to fickle gods whether they have the power to do so much more in the war against the Valnr. Hilda can't even begin to imagine how annoying that is.

Taking a deep breath, he continues. "Indeed, the Altr alone know what they want in a Scion – what would truly raise him, or her, far above the rest of humanity. Either we fit the criteria or we don't and, as of today, only four people have: the three Grand Scions and Lord Marco Alvaréz' successor."

"Well, if you ask me, I think Orlen should've nodded your way a long time ago," Hilda shrugs.

"I appreciate the compliment. But we both know how picky he can be with his Scions, hm?" Ryouma chuckles before tapping on her back. "Either way, I brought you here so you could understand the consequences of a Valnr victory. With that done, stand up and we'll get to your test."

Indeed, Hilda's perspective has changed after seeing the actual weight of the burden the Scions have. Up until now, she thought the Valnr captured a few people and that was it but these atriums are far worse than she expected. Think of what would happen if one of these things activated near or inside a city. She feels a slight tug at her heart at this realization, remembering Owen's words a few hours ago.

Hilda thinks to herself that she can't ever let something this horrible happen under her watch – she couldn't live with herself if it did.

Ryouma waves his fingers around and quickly casts a tier two spell – too fast for Hilda to see the glyph. As he does, a small flame erupts from his hand, landing on the ground where pieces of rock and earth start gathering around it until it's about the size of a small person. The flame has now turned into something of a head for what looks like a fidgety, hunched over being.

"You've spent the last two months in constant training and now it's time to see how you do in battle: this elemental is made to mimic the behavior of a Revenant, the Valnr's common undead troopers. It will attack relentlessly and without hesitation but you're more than equipped to deal with its ilk." Ryouma says, moving farther away to give Hilda some space.

"At least that's better than having to go up against the real thing..." she ponders inwardly.

That said, its movements are just as unnerving as the real thing, with its different-sized arms and legs dragging around the floor. Just looking at it makes her shudder slightly. Hilda takes a deep breath and tries her best to remain calm as she draws her sword and gets in position.

"Are you ready?" Ryouma asks and she nods back. "Then, begin!"

The elemental immediately springs to life and charges at Hilda, bearing its claws and teeth. It opens slashing at her with both its hands. Easily parried. The creature grabs and presses down against her sword, trying to overpower her. The edge sinks into its palms but it stands unfazed. This thing is just as monstrous as the real deal, actually. Hilda sink her feet into the ground as the elemental pushes her back. It's pushing her towards the cliff - no way she's just taking it, though. Hilda steps to the side, slams the pommel of her sword at the creature's temple.

It stumbles, giving her a chance to attack further. A quick step back to reposition and her downward slash cuts deep into its right shoulder. The elemental does not care, oblivious to the blade in its "flesh". It raises his right hand, poised to lunge at her again.

"Then how about this, you piece of crap...!"

Hilda electrifies her sword and presses down, lopping the elemental's arm clean off. She kicks it away as it reels, noting that magic works wonders against these things. Good to know. The creature isn't happy, recovering and roaring eerily. Once again it tries dashing madly at her - that won't happen this time. Hilda grips her sword firmly and raises it above her head.

"ChesTOH!" she yells, slashing the air and sending a streak of lightning that cuts it neatly in half, causing it to fade away into dust.

"Good, good," Ryouma says with a smile. "However, you will never be engaging just one Revenant at a time."

Another glyph quickly pops in his hand before unleashing five flames, all of which become an elemental.

"Seriously, Shishou?!" Hilda asks, arms wide open in annoyance.

"Even the smallest of Valnr enclaves are home to several dozen Revenants and the bigger ones can have hundreds, if not thousands. Get to work!" Ryouma commands, initiating the attack.

They all charge straight for Hilda but she now knows what to expect. Two elementals up front, dead on approach with a pair of well-placed lightning streaks. The other three close the distance, already swinging madly. They're not fancy attackers but it only takes one hit for everything to go to hell. Thus, Hilda keeps her distance, parrying when needed. Also not letting them grab her sword again. She just needs an opening and it doesn't take long against crazed attackers. One of the creatures attacks sloppily and gets his left arm sliced off as a reward.

The others see her drop her guard to attack and try to capitalize.

"It's not that easy, freaks."

She evades their lunges, sending one flying with a kick to the back. As her feet get back to the ground, it's only a step forward for her to decapitate the other. Quick horizontal slash through the neck. Two elementals remain and they're now separated. Jumping a few steps back, Hilda decides to try something different. She points her blade to one of the incoming creatures and commands it to extend. That, it does, flying straight forward and right through the elemental's head.

Only one left and it's not too far away. The blade drops back to its normal size right as the creature closes the distance. One step back, stance and a forward lunge on its left side. Gives Hilda a clean shot at its torso, where a rising, rightward slash finds its mark at a chunk of "flesh". It staggers from the hit and that's the end of that. A downward slash cuts it neatly in half, whereupon it vanishes into dust.

"Now that was a fine display!" Ryouma proclaims, clapping his hands a bit. "No problem against those things, yes?"

"Oof... Yeah, that... that wasn't too bad," Hilda says while trying to catch her breath.

"Excellent. We'll be training with these elementals for a few more days just to let it all sink in and then I believe you'll be ready to go on your first assignment before the week is over. Well done, Hilda."

A weary smile forms on Hilda's face as she nods back at him. "Thanks for helping me get this far, Shishou."

"Oh, I've done nothing but teach you the basics - it's your spirit that truly helps you along the way," Ryouma says, poking through his pouch until he finds the small shard he got from Wally. "Remember asking me what this was?"

"Hmm...yeah. You used that to bring us from Litnir to Valarheim."

"It's a shard of a Gate Crystal and, as such, has an unbreakable connection to it. Infuse it with some elemental force and it'll try heading back to whence it came. If you throw it around someone as that happens, they'll be taken along for the ride," Ryouma explains, handing the crystal to Hilda. "Why don't you do the honors? Just channel some lightning inside it and throw it at our feet."

Hilda does so and watches as, like in Gustaff's bar, it starts coursing and pulsating with energy – this time displaying a violet color. She throws it hard beneath the two of them and the same glyph as before appears and whisks them away.

One more step was taken today and Hilda's been shown another facet of the Scions' struggles, witnessing the horror of a land scarred by a Dark Atrium – something that, thankfully, never happened around Litnir. Inwardly, she prays to be strong enough to face what's ahead as, in just a few days, she'd probably be taking a stand against actual undead.

"Ichiisenshin... always," she tells herself.