Long before dawn, all aspiring Grievers were woken up by loud shouting. "Wake up! The time has come."
Rolling out of bed, Asher, who was still getting used to the name change, threw his shirt back on and grabbed his pack. It only held a few rations, an extra shirt, and a water pouch, but he didn't know what kind of test this was.
The Griever gathering them up nodded his head in approval towards the ones who grabbed their packs. "Good. Bring prepared might save your lives one day, just not this one."
"What do you mean?" Asher asked him, leading the grizzly man to look him up and down.
"Luck. She is the only thing that might save you today."
When everyone was ready, the adult Griever led them all off intinthe night, their boots making noises on the still wet ground. "In the next few hours, all of you will go through one of the most excruciating moments in your life, and many of you will die in the process."
Taking a closer look, Asher could see several features that made him stand out. First of all there was the common theme of scars amoung grievers, he had a long one flowing down his jaw like a wave, and another all around his shoulder like a bite wound.
He could see that because he wore no shirt, as if to tell them all what they would become, what they would endure in the future. This elder griever wore only leather armor to cover his vitals amd nothing else, unlike many others who wore full iron armor.
He also had the same talisman that every griever he had seen wore: the silver coin that held the imposing image of a Wraith, ready to reap lives. It was a sign of triumph over death, as that was what they faced to become what they are.
What he was about to face...
Stopping in front of a massive building, even larger than the dorms, the griever stopped, turning to them all. "Make no mistake, for many this will be your last moments, but it is also the place where all of you will be reborn. We have no joy in what you are about to go through, and this is the last place where you can stop."
"I say this one last time, I am Atem, Earthshaker, and under my will, not one soul will stop you from leaving if you wish it."
Everyone stilled in their place, faces becoming grim as they contemplated what could be the last decision of their lives. But ultimately, no one left.
Nodding, Atem brought them inside, revealing that almost the entire room was full of tables. "Take a table, and pray to whatever gods you follow, for I'm afraid you'll need it."
Taking a table near the entrance, Asher keenly noticed stains of something red left on the ground, some of it even seeping into the cracks on the old table and staining the restraints.
"Blood." A voice told him.
Looking over, he saw an old man the same age as Atem, but he looked a lot more scholarly, sporting glasses and holding a strange bag over his shoulder. "Get on and let me strap you in."
There was a look in the man's eye that told Asher he was no more than dead inside. Nodding, he gulped as he climbed on the table and allowed himself to be strapped in.
He had no gods to pray to, as he'd never been tought about any of them, so he simply prayed to everyone. 'I'm not good at this, so I'll keep it simple. Let me survive this. I have nothing to offer, but I want to live anyway...A man's word is bond, and I gave my word I wouldnt let death take me easy, so make that come true.'
The old man doing his test opened tha bag, revealing a multitude of syringes and bubbling bottles of various liquids. Some of them glowed, while others Asher could smell despite the stopper attached.
"I'm going to administer you with the ingredients that will transform you into a Griever. Afterwards, our school's witch will preform the spell that will activate the alchemical ingredients inside you, filling your body with mana as a byproduct. It will be incredibly painful, changing your body fundamentally, but it will also connect you with the Weave."
He leaned in close to Asher's ear, whispering comforting words. "If you should die, you will be in the most beautiful place to ever grab existence with its presence. You'll have everything you'd ever want there."
Asher gritted his teeth as he was presented a gag, spitting out a few last words before it was applied. "Everything but life itself."
The gag in place, Asher felt a needle peirce his arm, pushing in a viscous liquid that quickly dissolved into his blood stream. There were countless more, leaving his arm sore by the end, but he knew that was only the beginning.
The old man patted his shoulder, walking out if the room along with his peers. "Good luck, kid."
It was silent for a long while, before the clicking if heels rebounded through the room, a figure brushing by Asher's table. The was tall, nearly freakishly so, but so we're most of the grievers he had met. It could have been the fact that he was on a table too, but he disregarded that thought to get a better look.
The witch had long, flowing blond hair, and Asher could see pointy ears sticking out from the frame of her head. She herself wore a long black dress that dragged behind her on the floor.
When she reached the center if the room, she spared them all but a glance, before long, eldritch vocals began to resound from her mouth. A faint aura rippled around her figure, a dull gray.
As if to respond to her words, this aura grew and concentrated within her clasped hands, sending out beams of gray light as her beautiful voice continued to resonate with the very walls, before-