“Well, what did you have in mind?” Ralph asked the priest.
“An epic quest, of course! But first you must grow stronger. There exists an enchanted weapon called the Dark Reaper. It lies not far from here, embedded within the earth. A noble and pure soul can remove it.”
Ralph couldn’t stop the smile from pulling at his lips. “This is almost too much to believe.”
“Believe it, boy. You’re the chosen one!”
The words made Ralph beam, and he went to work preparing a broth with dried meat and cabbage. The priest wolfed down the meal, but Ralph could hardly eat. He was too excited by the prospect of becoming what Mother had always intended for him. He was a little nervous about drawing the sword, but he was still a virgin, so he’d passed the purity test. Nobility, on the other hand, might be a little harder, but Mother had always called him a noble soul.
Alaxon placed the empty bowl on the floor and stood. “I have something I must do before we retrieve the Dark Reaper. I will return as soon as I’m done.” He moved to leave the stable and shot Ralph a smile. “Have courage, boy. You are the chosen one!”
As the priest pushed open the door, his robes parted for a moment, and Ralph caught sight of the end of a rusty blade with distinct metalwork running down the middle.
The weapon stuck in Ralph’s memory because when the priest returned and together they went into Hag Pines, that very same sword was embedded in the ground beneath a copse of elm trees. Runes glistened in the hilt’s crossguard, and the pommel was fashioned with a clouded ruby. The blade itself was a little rusty, but the metal was black as though carved from one resembling obsidian. It was impossible to tell the length since the lower part of the blade was buried in the earth.
With confidence he’d be able to draw the sword, Ralph wrapped his hands around the pommel and removed the blade from the soil. The metal thrummed inside his palm, as though magical power pulsed within the weapon.
“The Dark Reaper has proved you worthy to wield it,” Alaxon said.
Ralph shot the priest a questioning glance as he turned the weapon over in his hand. “You said it’s magical. I can feel something as I hold it.”
“Correct. It has two Infernal seals bonded to it. They grant the wielder power unlike anything you’ve ever seen, lad.”
“How do I activate this power? Do I utter a phrase? An invocation of Lilith?”
“No,” Alaxon said. “I’m afraid you must go through yet another trial to use the blade to its full capacity.”
“I’ll do anything,” Ralph said as his excitement started to bubble over.
“Do you like pain, Ralph?” Alaxon stalked around Ralph like a panther.
“I can’t say I enjoy it, but like I said, I’m willing to—” Ralph howled as the priest tore his tunic from behind. The fabric shredded in two, and a sharp nail carved down Ralph’s spine. With the sword gripped in two hands, Ralph whirled around and almost cleaved the priest in half.
“Aye! Don’t you swing that sword at me, lad. This is required. I’m about to give you a magical branding that will unlock the power of all enchantments. You will be capable of harvesting the very essence of Lilith’s monsters to increase your own power.”
“Hmm . . .” Ralph considered the priest’s words for a second before lowering the sword. “Do as you wish.”
Alaxon continued slicing through flesh with his finger, and Ralph winced as the priest poured a substance from a vial into the wounds. Pain unlike he’d ever known lanced through him and blurred his vision, but when the process was complete, he felt like a new man. Power ignited his veins like demonfire, the sword’s grip burning in his palms when he lifted the weapon. He could see the magic now, a blackness writhing around the blade like hell-forged serpents.
“I have given you a branding that marks the bodies of all adventurers,” Alaxon announced.
“Adventurer?”
“Yes, my boy. You are now an adventurer, of a sort. At least, you bear the mark of one. There aren’t very many left in the Infernal Realm. Perhaps none. Mostly pirates, raiders, and other folk of ill repute. In fact, I once found myself in the service of one. A nasty warlord. Not the kind you want to meet. Forced me to perform this same ceremony on his army, he did.”
“An adventurer?” Ralph repeated, heedless of the priest’s words.
“Aye. You’ll have to learn to listen. There’s a serious quest we must complete. I have heard a new dungeon has formed at the peak of Shadow Crag. It is in its infantile stages, and together we can conquer it.”
At that point, Ralph no longer cared whether the priest had spoken truthfully about the prophecy in his stew, or whether this weapon could only be drawn by a pure and noble spirit. He had a magical weapon in his hand and would be leaving Cothslar for more interesting pastures.
The priest and the stableboy ventured back through the town, and the people barely paid them a second glance. Those who caught sight of the blade at Ralph’s side gaped at his new acquisition, and he couldn’t help but smile at his good fortune. Ralph imagined the entire town would celebrate when it became apparent he wouldn’t be returning, and the curse was lifted. He shook the dust from his feet as they passed the wooden fortifications.
They journeyed into the outskirts of the Black Sands, the scorched desert stretching from Cothslar to Shadow Crag. Although they
