The Legend - Chris Wilson (web based ebook reader TXT) 📗

caravans somewhere down the road.” The Instructor answered. I nod to show my understanding, and then return my attention at the targets. The Instructor spoke again after I fired. “You must not speak of this to any other, even if they say they are one of the chosen.”
“I understand.” I answered. I took aim, and fired again. Three shots later, the Instructor left my side. I was debating what I needed to focus on practicing in this week I had remaining. I needed to study at Nature for at least a day; I knew little of the various plants and creatures out there. I needed to take the Test of Silence, where I would receive respect. Fire Studies is a must; I will probably need to light good fires for the battle (allowing me to use fire with my arrows).
Also, I needed to take the Test of Darkness and the Test of Blood. I need to be prepared to face the night, and a test of strength would help my pride. Obviously, I needed bulk classes in Archery and Fighting. Lastly, I would need to take the Test of Pain and Suffering before I left. If only I hadn’t been putting off all these Tests! I need to lighten up on the blacksmithing; it likely won’t be that necessary out there in the wilderness.
I decided to leave Archery. I went up to the Nature Instructor and requested to take the Test of Silence. I thought it best, mainly because it would avoid answering any questions that might float my way within the first two days. He answered slowly.
“Are you sure you wish to take this Test now, as these next two days will likely be very talkative.” He said. I opened my mouth to answer, but he interrupted me. “I am aware that you are more of a loner and warrior then one who gossips. And for that, I am proud of you. Know that you have obtained the pride of I, the Nature Instructor. I am obliged to let you take the Test of Silence, and best of luck to you. I will mention it to the other Instructors before the day is over. Come, to the House of Tests.”
I followed the Nature Instructor quietly. It was considered bad luck to speak on the way to the Test of Silence. About forty breaths later, we entered the House of Tests. It was empty, and we traveled from room to room without noise. When we finally came to a door reading,
“It takes skill to speak well, but a true warrior listens well.”
Without a doubt, this was the Room of Silence. In here I would spend an hour, and then leave at my own will. But the moment I entered the room, I could not speak to anyone for two days, nor attempt to communicate through means other than speech. The Nature Instructor took a deep breath, and began a speech that he had clearly made many times.
“You have reached the Room of Silence. The moment you enter that door, you cannot leave until the sun goes down. You will fast until the sun rises again. The moment you enter that door, you can speak no more, using speech, body language, written, or other communication, until the sun rises two cycles hence. Examine and appreciate the wisdom trapped in the room, and spend at least a hunt in contemplation of what you have learned. Enter and discover yourself, hidden in the shadows.”
After The Nature Instructor finished his speech, I mulled over what he had said in my mind. I would fast until the sun rose again, and could not leave until the sun rose again as well. After two sun rises, I could speak again. Easy enough. But discovering myself? That opted to be interesting. I made up my mind and stepped confidently up to the door. I turned the handle, and stepped into the room beyond slowly, unsure of what he would find and see.
I nearly gasped when his eyes adjusted to the millions of reflected light particles, but caught myself just in time. I shuffled forward slowly, my mind trying to notice every detail of the large room before me. The door shut behind me, and the knob turned to hold the door in place. What caught my eye most was the many intertwined lines of cut and twisted glass hanging from the ceiling, catching and twisting light to show a display of colors. Magnificent reds and blues, bright yellows and greens, deep purples and blacks, and sparkling orange and cyan-colored glass shards.
They were everywhere, these hanging displays. Some in sheets you could brush out of your way, as they were on the path. Others were firm, solid structures, attached to both the ceiling and the floor, in twisted designs to alter light in many directions. Almost all glass was colored and deepened, so as to change the color of the light passing through it. Almost all the glass was bent, so as to alter the direction of the light. There were designs and patterns on the floor and walls and ceiling, and many were swaying gently. There were missing chunks in the walls, letting in a fair breeze which stirred and spun the glass designs.
There were also statues and pictures along the walls and throughout the huge room, though not made with glass. They were crafted from varieties of stone, and most were normal kinds. They had sayings and stories written in front of them and on them. Also, in the center of the room was a large raised platform, with nothing on it. It was about 5 feet off the ground. It looked perfect to just sit there and meditate. I climbed it with little effort, but once on top I saw something which my mind said I couldn’t be seeing. It wasn’t possible.
A scorpion of tremendous size was stirring. It seemed to be coated in a black paint, and it was about as tall and thick as I was. It had blended in well with the color of the platform, but looked very out of place now that it was stirring. It was sitting in a small pool of the black liquid which dripped from it, and it was awakening from its slumber. Not good.
I froze, instinct telling me not to move until I had a clearer assessment of the situation. Its stinger could probably punch a hole in my stomach, or head. As it finished awakening, it took a step towards where I stood perched on the edge of the platform. I subconsciously took a step backwards, or tried to, and lost my footing when there wasn’t anything to step back onto. With flailing arms, I stumbled backwards off the platform. Flat on my back, I nearly complained aloud when I remembered I shouldn’t speak.
I looked upwards after catching my breath, a froze again to find the scorpion looking downwards at me from above. I found the paint-like substance dripping off it disturbing. In one movement, I rolled backwards and stood, then faltered as I momentarily lost my balance. When I looked back up at the platform, the scorpion was no longer there. Where had it gone?
I peered about the room, noticing that there was black trails of liquid on the pillars and ceiling. Were they there before? I struggled to remember, while trying to follow the trails. They all seemed to intermingle in such a way that you couldn’t tell where the paths had started and when they had ended. There was one or two paths on the ground, but most of them were along the walls, pillars, and ceiling.
After fifty breaths or so with no movement, I began to cautiously move about, looking for the scorpion. I didn’t like not knowing where it was. I was half-expecting it to leap out at me, or (more likely) drop upon me from above. I searched the entire room, corner to corner, very slowly and cautiously. I found nothing, which only unnerved me more.


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Well, after a few hours of failing to see, find, or hear any fresh signs of the scorpion, I lessened my tensing slightly. Darkness had fallen. I began to read the many things written in the room, by the orblight streaming in to light them up. Depending on the hour, certain displays would be lit up or in the darkness. Right about when the orb reached its peak, I decided it was safe to meditate. I made my way over to the raised platform.
After climbing onto it and scanning the room for the billionth time, I sat in the center and began to meditate. Imprint

Publication Date: 12-27-2010

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Dedication:
To my brethren, without whom I could not be who I am now.