Chapter 4: The temple of Odin
The scent of charred flesh stung his nose. The acrid burning clogged his throat. He clenched his chest, gasped twice for breath. Silhouettes moved before him, shadows dissolved into the ground, waiting. He took a step, his footsteps echoed in the temple, pillars laid broken on the floor. Ash scattered on the floor, traces of blood hung in the air. His eyes squinted to make out a door at the extreme. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, his eyes analysed every single thing. He gripped his sword tighter. His breath tensed up. The silence slowly dissipated, echoes of footsteps filled the temple room. Quinn's head jerked backwards, a figure was rushing forward wielding a bow.
[Welcome to your first trial]
The voice hung for a while, and arrow whizzed past him, it lodged firmly into Quinn's shoulder before he could dodge. He fell downwards, pain shooting up, blood gushed out of his wounds. His eyes swirled with pain. He pulled the arrow out. His lips tore with a scream. He turned to the archer who had taken aim once more. The arrow whizzed past faster. Quinn stroke upwards, his sword barely parried the strike before the arrow gliced his shoulder. Blood streamed out, but Quinn was engrossed in the fight to even bother. He dashed sideways, hiding behind a tank of water. Another arrow flew, striking the tank, the explosion smashed him Into the temple wall, a crater formed. He breathed harshly, his eyes traced the burning tank. The archer held a flaming arrow.
"Fire talent?" He muttered. He knew nothing about trials involving awakened opponents. His lips pursed. His sword was now bent, a result of parrying the arrow. The archer took aim again. He dashed forward, moving zig zag against the arrows aim. As soon as his left foot raised, the arrow slammed down at the ground and explosion rippled under his feet. He fell backwards, the archer's arrow dug forward, He dodged narrowly, before his feets left the floor, four arrows had plummeted feets before him, the ground splitted, he yanked himself up.
"it's not moving!" He sneered. The archer had only Shot arrows without moving. Quinn, dodged another arrow, the scent of iron clogged his breath. He winced at the sharp painful outburst. He glared at the archer in anguish. Flames swirled at his fingers, a long shaft of the arrow forming, Quinn took the initiative. His legs quaked under him, but he pressed forward. He threw his sword forward, The archer shot the sword immediately. It conflagrated. It exploded into crisps, leaving Quinn a smoke disguise. He rammed his elbow into the archer's stomach, the arrow formation slowly paused. He fell back, flinched in pain as the scent of charred flesh tingled his nostrils.
He rose up in gritted teeth. His left foot smashed into the archer's head,a burst of smoke erupted. Quinn yelped falling backwards, another arrow rammed into his chest.
"Arrgh!!"
He fell to his knees, the archer knelt on one knee, his arrow already taking aim. Quinn tried to stand, another arrow slammed into his thigh. Blood spurted out, he winced. The metallic scent stung his nostrils. He took a step, the room twirled, he couldn't pinpoint where the archer knelt. Somehow, his well co-ordinated mind was falling to shambles. He moved again, another arrow tore past his abdomen, his mind willed, he was going back to Henzai.
"Promise me Quinn. Promise me you'll survive."
"I will " He felt himself subconsciously replying. His lips tore with a shriek. Another arrow lodged firmly Into his chest. He reached the archer, his muscles tightened, throbbed with pain. The archer took aim, and as soon as he did.
Red blur!
***
His eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. The scent of lavender filled his nostrils. Warmth trickled through his veins. His face lightened, a smile stretched. Is the trial finally over? he pondered. The sky was blue,melting the rays of sun into his torn clothes. He felt liquid balance him from beneath, he reached. His fingers gliced through a cold liquid. The copper sent lingered. Blood
***
His eyes adjusted to the dim light of the temple. This wasn't the end. He tried to move, his body didn't respond. He twisted his head, grimaced at the gaping holes that stared bleakly at him. He pushed himself Slowly, resting against the wall. He looked at himself. Wounds covered his body, pain throbbed around his wounds.
He stared around the temple. The ground littered with ash and blood. The light dimmed, he couldn't tell if it was daytime or nighttime. Quinn closed his eyes, recalling how the Archer died. Nothing came except, charred smoke.
No congratulations or end of trials. That was only the preamble of dreads to come. He moved towards the temple door, he limped badly. Hoping the door would hold less terrifying demons. He turned, spotted a box on the floor, he slowly kneeled. Opened the box to see a bottle and a coin.
"relics?" he picked the bottle, he squinted at the contents. Purple and gurgling. As he opened the cork, a nice scent washed over his nostrils. He downed the contents in a go.
Heat skidded down his temples, warmth enveloped his skin. The wounds slowly tightened before vanishing. He winced as a final pain scalded his skin. He breathed shakily. "At least it was worth it." He smirked. He picked the odd looking coin. At the front was a head, behind was a X tore across the center. Quinn narrowed his eyes, his fingertips whitened at the sight. He pocketed the coin and twisted the door knob.
His steps echoed, slow and cautious. He moved towards the mirror. Nothing laid there. It was empty and broken. He watched the bed, his eyes trailed upwards at the portrait of a grey haired young boy his height and age. His eyes were Ash-grey, boring into Quinn's. Quinn reached forward, his fingers gliced the portrait. He winced at the heat that charred his fingers. He moved to the drawer, at the table was an unfinished letter.
-I have stayed here for so long, I feel detached. My dreams are lucid, the console is changing and I'm fading with it...
-That night a young man was led here, Into Odin's temple. I felt a connection, his dreams. He was like a brother I didn't have. He stayed for two days. His dreams were vague, unclear as if he was unsure of his life....
-My mind is slowly fading, distorted. I see him, his Eyes of onyx haunt me. My family isn't mine...
"What's all these? It's confusing." Quinn muttered. He returned the letter.
"Someone leaves inside the console. How?" He muttered. His mind wavered about the young man. "who is this?" He muttered. His eyes searched the room. A smile tore his lips as he caught the shinning lustre of a sword. "Finally! A weapon." He smirked. The handle was made of copper and silver with a star emblem. Patterns and swirls covered it. The sides were sharp. Dust scattered the sword. "It's old." Quinn acknowledged. He moved to leave the room when his eyes caught a book. His hands gliced through it. He winced retracting his arm. It burned. He reached again. Firm. He pulled the book. The heat scales his palm. Yet, Quinn resisted. The book fell to the floor conflagrating instantly. Before it's self combustion peaked, Quinn flashed through a name.
Salem Novrochono.
He backed off...The name elicited no memory. He had no relationship with Whoever Salem was. He turned, pushing the door and glancing back. His eyes flashed across the picture, the oil portrait of the young man, something had changed. Something monstrous.
Ash-grey eyes stared at him, Peach black hair tangled. A placid smile stretched across the model's lips. Blood smeared his cheeks and clothing.
His mind became fuzzy, his brain melted to mush. Before Quinn could re-enter the room a suction force pulled him out, landing in a forest.
***
His chest contracted, his skin broke as something tore into his chest from behind. Shadows retracted, curling behind trees at the being. Yet it wasn't him, the pain wasn't his. He glanced around, the sky was oddly blue, the scent of rosemaries and daffodils caught his nostrils, this wasn't the console...The chirping of birds, the rush of a stream nearby confirmed it. He glanced at the boy being beaten. He was outmatched by Four others. Each wielded a sword. The leader moved closer, frost gathered at his palms.
"I'm sorry! But we can't allow you to remain alive." He muttered. Ice spikes pierced out of the grounds rushing at where the young man stood. The others threw their powers and attacks. Yet, the ice spikes did the job, slamming the young man up and killing him. Hung on the glacier. The copper scent lingered, fear scorched his tongue as his hair stood at the end. He took a step forward, he wanted to run. If they saw him, he was dead meat. Yet, they ignored him walking away as the young man struggled for his last breath.
"You will all pay!" He screeched. The others left him, oblivious to his cries. Quinn took a tentative step forward, cautiously watching the man. His eyes adjusted slowly to the bright light. The blood filled his nostrils. Quinn slowly snapped his head upwards, his eyes shocked as he gazed at the face.
Peach black hair, held in pause. his lips tightened. His pale face whitened as blood escaped his body. Quinn stood, petrified at the
face. His lips finally parted.
"No...No..."
Before him was...