Argent staggered through the mist, each step heavier than the last. His breath came ragged, his body a map of cuts, bruises, and half-healed wounds. The ground beneath him was soft, soaked from battle, his boots sinking with every step. Ahead, the fog glowed faintly, gold and gray shimmering, with quiet authority.
The silhouette waiting within that haze was immense. When Argent finally drew close enough to see, the figure resolved into the shape of the Giant Chieftain that he had seen before. It seemed so much larger now.
He was massive, carved from time itself, every muscle traced with the weight of centuries. He wore only a belt of tanned hide and a warrior's leather wrap, simple but regal, as though clothing was unnecessary for one who was the land.
Across his skin sprawled a tapestry of tattoos that seemed alive, marks that glowed and faded in hues of gold, red, and violet. Where most giants bore a single color, his body shimmered in all of them, like molten stone catching the light of dawn.
Argent, barely standing, managed a faint, weary smile. That foolish promise echoed in his head
See you tomorrow.
He'd made it. Against all reason, he'd kept his word.
The Giant's massive eyes drifted down to the axe Argent clutched, and a deep rumble rolled from the giant's chest. Then came laughter, booming, joyous, echoing through the mist like thunder on stone.
"You, of all people, found that," the giant said, his voice shaking the ground itself.
Argent frowned, looking down at the mud-caked weapon. "What do you mean?"
"That axe," he said, his tone softening into something almost fond.
"It was mine… when I was a child. Nine thousand years, no, perhaps ten. I forged my first blood upon its edge. Lost it hunting bramble-jacks beyond the western ridge." He tapped his temple, as if dragging the memory from the bedrock of time.
"My father crafted it for me, the Forge Lord to the Chief before me."
The giant fell silent for a long moment, then exhaled heavily. "Enough of old memories from the time before. The Eternal War has long since buried that boy."
Argent blinked, his mind reeling. "The Eternal War… there was a time before? This world wasn't just made for this contest? But I thought… I thought everyone was brought here by the Unnamed One."
At the mention of that title, the giant's face darkened. His jaw tensed.
"That name," he rumbled, voice low. "Best not spoken so freely."
Then, more softly, "You humans were the ones brought here, yes. The rest of us, giants, dwarves, scaledkin, goblins, orcs, elves, fairies, all the rest, this has always been our world.
Time itself stopped when the war began. The world forgot how to move forward. Us giants are some of the only ones left who remember what came before. That is why my kind remains here, in The Fall.
We remember why we don't join the fight over the Apex. We battle not for conquest or to reach the peak of this conflict, but we fight to make sure remember why we lived."
Argent took a breath to ask more, but the chieftain raised a hand.
"Enough. Even this much treads the edge of what I may speak. You came here to keep your word. And you did."
The giant's gaze softened, ancient and heavy. "In eight thousand years of this war, only one other human showed the spark you carry. You, young human, you might just be able to finish this place. Grow stronger. Seek the truth. Find the Apex. End this stagnation. Make time live again. You kept your word, you have shown you have the resolve to push through"
Argent lowered his head, the words sinking deep into his chest.
He'd done it. Against everything, he'd done it. He made it here.
Before this world, his life had been empty days bleeding together, every sunrise a repetition of the last. But now, now he has reason. He had walked through death to stand here.
"I… I made it," he murmured, half to himself. "I didn't know if I really could. But… I did."
The giant regarded him, and a small smile tugged at the edges of his stone-carved lips. "You still have the same fire you carried yesterday. You honor your word. And though you are centuries too young to challenge me in earnest, I will grant you this much...."
He leaned closer, one eye narrowing, "...you do not wish to walk back to the city, do you?"
Argent managed a hoarse laugh. "If I'm being honest, I don't think I could make it that far anyway. Better to die fighting than on a crawl home."
He straightened and stood up tall, the act alone costing him almost everything he had left.
"I have seen your people give their name and title before a fight that marks something."
"My name is Argent. I've no title. Just me."
The giant's laughter was softer this time, almost kind. "No longer, little human."
He placed one hand on his chest, the tattoos across it glowing.
"From this day forth, to all who stand as giants you are Argent, the Word Made Stone. Do you accept this name?"
For a long moment, Argent couldn't speak. His throat tightened. Something inside him, gratitude, awe, maybe disbelief, cracked open. "I accept."
A searing heat bloomed across his chest and shoulder. Through the shredded fabric of his hoodie, glowing lines carved themselves into his skin, an intricate mark just like that of the tattoos the giants wore, winding like living fire.
Once the mark was fully engrained into him, he noticed that it did not glow like the ones on the giants he had seen.
The giant nodded approvingly. "Giants gain strength from deeds. To be named by the chief is to share in our spirit. That mark will grow as you do. When you learn how, you will feed power into it. Make it burn brighter. Stronger."
He straightened, towering higher than the fog. "Enough talk. We've idled too long."
"I am Thranir, The stone that Remembers, Eternal Father of the giant tribe"
He clapped his massive hands together, and the mist split like smoke from a wind. The land opened around them, revealing a vast stone circle. Behind the giant, fourteen colossal statues loomed, each depicting a figure of different race and form: winged, horned, scaled, crowned. Their faces were pristine, the carvings showing no wear over the course of time, the air itself was humming around them.
Thranir turned back, eyes glinting like molten gold.
"We stand in the Circle of the Gods," he said solemnly. "Show them the resolve that brought you here. Come, little human."
Argent didn't hesitate.
I made it this far, he thought. Might as well see it through.
He charged, wounded legs burning. The axe felt impossibly heavy, but he swung with everything left in him. The blade met Thranir's thigh, it barely cut, only enough to draw a thin line of blood.
Thranir didn't block or even try to dodge the swing. He didn't even flinch.
Then the world exploded.
Argent felt a strike faster than sight, a pressure that shattered the ground beneath him. The air left his lungs before he even hit the earth. Pain flashed white, and then nothing.
He saw the sky for only a heartbeat before his body broke into shimmering blue light, spiraling upward like drifting fireflies.
The axe and dagger clattered to the ground beneath him.
Thranir turned to the statues, his deep voice carrying through the ancient circle.
"Aid him in the struggles to come. For he has the resolve to see it through. So speaks the Stone That Remembers."
The world faded.
Argent opened his eyes to white.
An endless expanse stretched around him, no floor, no ceiling, just soft, glowing emptiness. In the center stood a figure cloaked in haze, human-shaped but indistinct. He could only tell that it was a woman. Even the air hummed with their presence.
Their voice came smooth, beautiful, both near and far.
"To those who have died for the first time, I come to bestow what is owed. The gift of element, the echo of creation."
They raised a shadowed hand. "You may choose what aligns with your spirit, or let me choose for you. Nurture it, and it will grow. Deny it, and it will fade."
Argent blinked, thinking of Grey and Parvok, the clash of lightning and fire, the beauty and horror of it.
That must be the element that she speaks of.
"Do I have to choose only one?"
The figure paused. "No. But know this: balance is fragile. To walk with two elements is to divide the soul. One may rise while the other fades. Fire drowns beneath water. Stone breaks before wind."
Argent's mind flickered with memory: first the silvery tooth that had named him, gleaming like a promise. Then the battlefield, the blood, the echoes, the countless shadows trailing every step he'd taken since.
In this place Light and darkness. They had never left him. They had made him.
He drew a breath. "Then I choose both, Light and Shadow. They're not enemies. While they may seem at odds you can not have shadow without the light that makes it."
"They are two sides of the same coin, and I want to embrace both the future the light makes a path for, and the shadows that are in it's wake. "
The figure inclined its head. "So be it."
A pulse of heat struck his chest. Argent gasped as opposing forces coiled around his heart and closed his eyes.
Shadows on one side, light on the other. They fused, threading through him until he could feel them breathe together.
When he opened his eyes again, the world was stone and dust.
Rows of carved slabs stretched before him, twenty in all, leading up to a towering statue of a hooded figure. Its face was hidden, its hands raised in silent blessing.
He was in a temple, a temple unlike any he'd seen. No pews. No altars. Only silence.
Argent sat up, gasping for air. His body was whole. His clothes, black shorts and hoodie, were repaired, clean of blood and dirt. He pressed a trembling hand to his chest. Beneath the fabric, the giant's mark still burned faintly, now shimmering faintly between silver and black.
A door creaked open behind him.
A robed man shuffled out, muttering to himself, carrying a bundle of scrolls. "Ah! Another new face. Yes, yes, first time, I see." He gestured absently toward the statue. "Touch the Unnamed One, yes. That's how you log merits, check your… ah, what do the young ones call it, your score. Yes yes, quite simple."
He wandered off toward a back room, already lost in a loud, chaotic rummaging through tomes.
Argent stared up at the statue for a long moment.
Something felt off. The figure before him, broad-shouldered, masculine, didn't match the presence he'd felt in that white void. That voice had been feminine, gentle.
Two faces… or two beings?
He didn't know. Not yet.
He reached out and placed his hand on the statue.
Blue light surged outward, enveloping him.
[Power: Calculating]
[Previous Score: 10]
[Natural Gains: 5]
[New Trait: Giant's Mark of Stone: 11]
[Merit Boost: 0]
[New Total: 26]
[Merits: Calculating]
[Previous: 0]
[Giant kill: 225 | Contribution Split: 100%]
[Giant kill: 343 | Contribution Split: 61% | Modified Gain: 209]
[Giant Wounding with Supreme One Multiplier: 1433]
[Summary]
[Name: Argent]
[Death Count: 1]
[Element: Shadow – Power: 1]
[Element: Light – Power: 1]
[Power: 26]
[Merits: 1867]
[Traits:]
[Giant's Mark of Stone]
[Perseverance]
The words burned themselves into his mind. Too much, too fast.
He stumbled, catching his breath. "Eighteen hundred merits… that can't be right."
Had Thranir known this would happen? Was this another gift from the giant's hand?
Why?
And that new trait, Perseverance.
As he thought about it, the meaning unfolded in his thoughts:
[Able to ignore pain and push on in any state, even on the verge of death. Only through knowing one's limits can one know how far they can go]
He let out a rough laugh. "Guess you really can get stronger just by surviving."
But the flood of numbers and power, the strange sense of being rewritten, it was too much. He could feel how easily this place could drive someone mad. Dying. Returning. Starting again. Over and over.
Argent turned toward the light spilling from the temple doors.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself. The mark on his chest pulsed once, bright silver, then deep black.
He knew this first death wouldn't be his last. But he had to push on.
He didn't know what waited ahead, only that he wasn't done.