Eye Of The Eclipse - 67 6

“What the f*ck?!” The twins watched Marcel shout while climbing to his feet from five metres behind them. “I already sent someone to tell you what was going on!”

“And?” The figure in front of them was clad in an inky black cloak which made for a stark contrast against the sunny weather and green fields just outside of the temple. “Does that change the fact that you’re late?”

Before he could speak, a small black butterfly flew from under the guild leaders hood and fluttered unsteadily towards Marcel, who lost all composure as soon as it revealed itself.

It hadn’t even been two seconds since the butterfly made an appearance, but Marcel was already on his feet and bolting in the opposite direction. Without even a shout of fear, his footsteps were entirely silent as he flashed along the path like a madman. It was like watching a ghost or a shroud of black mist.

“If you run, it’ll be set to level three.” With the wind blowing, the quiet voice of the guild master was barely even audible to Rykar and Loki. Considering whether they should relay the warning that was obviously intended for Marcel, they looked between the two of them.

And just like that, Marcel stopped dead in his tracks. Hesitating for a moment, he turned around before approaching the show-moving butterfly of his own accord.

After stopping a few steps away from it, the twins continued to watch on awkwardly as it landed on Marcel’s ear, only slightly visible to them from under his hood. Then, like a shadow being dispersed by the light, the butterfly melded with the area just above his ear as though it had never been there in the first place.

With the ordeal concluded, Marcel made his way back over to the group with light footsteps. Unlike before, it was now much like when they had first met him, very difficult to lock onto his presence without actively trying to do so.

Although the situation was between the two of them, Rykar and Loki couldn’t help but tense up when they were in the direct line of sight of the new arrival.

“Come inside, well see if you actually completed your mission or not.” After a moment of silence, they all made their way into the miniature temple under the guidance of the leader.

The interior of the temple was just as baron as the outside. The walls and floors didn’t even have a finishing layer. Rough stone was all that was seen in any direction, the only exception being the greenery which could be seen between the void left by the columns.

Aside from a stone seat at the far side… it was a completely empty space.

This only made the area feel even bigger. The twins felt as though they had stepped into a hall of giants while looking up at the lofty ceiling which was easily twenty metres high.

“Which breathing technique do you use, and how did you come across it?” Without even asking their names, the guild leader threw out a question they could barely understand.

“Don’t have one.” Loki took the initiative and answered for them both.

“How old are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“What are your names?”

“We don’t have names.”

“Do you understand the situation you’re in?” Even beneath his hood, impatience began to radiate from the guild leader as the air began to feel heavy in the hall.

“…” Stuck between keeping up his immature front, Loki hesitated before giving the first serious answer since the questioning started. “No.”

“Well let me explain something. It doesn’t matter how or why you are here. You have been provided with an opportunity, an opportunity that you are about to destroy before even having realized.

“Those with elemental affinities which lean towards darkness or things considered ‘negative’ are always isolated due to society and what is considered as ‘light and just’. You being here already means that you are within this group of people, so you may be considered to have a talent, but you will not be able to nurture it without support.

“That being said, I’m not offering you the support you need. I’m offering you the chance to obtain it yourself. And if you want to obtain it, then you will have to win it.”

Turning away from them, the guild leader soaked in the suspense as he walked over to the large seat towards the back of the hall. Taking a seat, he continued his explanation with a slouched and lazy demeanor.

“This might be a guild, but for the majority of the members, this may as well be called a market place. You have no strict rules or conditions other than keeping your identity hidden and secrecy towards any guild activities.

“There are constantly requests and missions being given out and upon the completion of these requests, you receive contribution points which can then be traded in for rewards.

“If you join then decide to never take on a mission, that’s fine.

“If you join and decide to go on a spree, that’s fine too.

“However, once a part of the guild, you ride on the back of our reputation. Taking missions using The Guilds name, without approval, will result in consequences you would rather not face.”

“Do you have any questions up to this point?” He asked with his head resting in his hand.

“What can we exchange points for?” Loki asked suspiciously.

“What do you want?” The leader asked in return.

“Runic equipment?”

“Yes.”

“Transport tickets to other worlds?”

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“Yes.”

“Training?”

“Of course.”

“To get someone killed?”

“Easily.” Waving his hand, the leader quickly began to realised the limited worldview of the two in front of him based on the items he was requesting. “A list of items will be provided if you’re accepted.”

“If? He said we were brought here to get recruited.” Looking over at the silent Marcel.

“He brought here to give you a chance of getting a chance of joining The Guild.” The leader corrected.

“Chance of getting a chance?” Rykar asked, thinking the person in front of him had stumbled on his words.

“Exactly as I said.” The leader didn’t explain himself before asking for a final time. “Are you taking the test, or are you here to waste my time?”

Looking over at Chance, Rykar hoped to get some kind of an inclination as to what they should do, but all he saw was the steely lower half of his face.

“We will do it.” Loki answered for his brother who was still showing uncertainty. Either way, he felt as though they wouldn’t have a good return if they were to decline.

“Good, at least you know how to say the right answer once in a while.” With that reply, the majority of the tension that had been building up in the room had vanished just as quickly as it had come. “Marcel, you’ll do the first test.”

“Don’t try to go all out. Start off slowly and adjust to the rhythm as it changes. Keep going for as long as you can.” After leaving those instructions, the leader reclined even further into the uncomfortable looking stone chair as he watched the scene before him.

Marcel wordlessly walked over while still creating no traces of sound at all. It really was like watching a movie without the audio playing.

Gesturing to Loki first, he lowered himself into a combat position before beginning to throw some slow punches and kicks into the air before him. It took a second for Loki to understand what was happening, but after a while, he realized that Marcel was showing him the pace that they would be initiating the spar at.

A dozen strikes later, Marcel stopped and began to move forward at a similarly slow pace until he was within Loki’s striking range. Just like that, a slow spar began to play out, just like they were dancing with each other.

On one hand, Marcel’s movements were fluid and calm, whereas it was apparent that Loki had some difficulty with handling the slow speed. Often time, he was a moment ahead or behind the movements of his opponent. The changing of pace which allowed him to speed up or slow down his strikes simply made him look clumsy and odd.

A minute later, the pace had picked up to the point that it was no longer uncomfortable. The pace was still comically slow when compared to a real fight, but they were exchanging moves fluidly while Loki was beginning to focus less on the test and more on moving like he was used to. Despite being slow, he no longer aimed to block or parry the majority of the moves coming at him. Instead, he reverted to the hit and run tactic which he had developed over the two months within the library.

Time passed slowly and without knowing when, the leader was no longer slouched against his seat. He was currently sitting forward with his head in his palm while his elbow was resting on his knee. In front of him, Loki was weaving between Marcel’s strikes while swinging out with his dagger every once in a while.

He was never too hasty, always prioritizing his own safety over any of the ‘opportunities’ that presented themselves for him to strike. The patience and foresight he was showing was truthfully nothing special when compared to many, but it was enough to surprise Marcel and the leader when his age was taken into account.

During the entire four minutes, despite his obviously growing fatigue, he didn’t slow or speedup his blows, restricting himself to the tempo which had been set by Marcel without trying to catch his opponent off guard.

Six minutes later, sweat was beginning to surface on Loki’s shirt and he was barely holding on. The speed of the fight was already above anything he had experienced while sparring with Rob, yet the pace was still slowly increasing. It had already been nearly a minute since he had last even tried to throw a blow at marcel. The spar had degraded into a game of cat and mouse, yet he was adamant that he held on for a long as possible.

Despite being on the losing end, it was exhilarating to have such a wide space to practice his reflexes in. The attacks were in a completely different style when compared to Rob and Rykar too, making him happy for the change. Some of the angles may be tricky and the speed was difficult to handle, but it felt like the moves were much more standardized, lacking the trickery or personal flare of the others.

Sadly, his legs gave in before his willpower did.

He soon fell to the ground under his own weight, barely able to get to his feet while Marcel stood over him. The silence he had kept since they had entered the temple still prevailed, but the trademark smile was once again covering his face as he offered his hand to the boy.

“Six minutes and twenty seven seconds.”