I went back and looked at some of my previous chapters, and I realized how boring some of the nightmare creatures have been. So I'm going to try and make them scary again.
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[You have slain Awakened Human, Morgan of Valor]
"–Long been prepared for this–'"
Keter's hands trembled from the smallest whispers of the spell. For mere moments, despair inflicted his every sense. Tens of memories of Morgan flashed as swiftly as the ringing of a bell. "No, that should be impossible-"
"Your Right of Passage will be harder than–"
Keter's eyes dilated as he finally noticed that [Silver Moonlight] was no longer in his hands, nor did it respond to his call. In fact, none of his memories did. "Awakened creature should not have the power to cut my connection with the spell. Neither should it be able to force the unsummoning of my memories."
"Everyone else's, as you are taking it before you awaken, as per your own request. Now I have–"
"Wait, why is my hair brown? And why can't I feel the world around me?" Keter questioned as he began to finally catch the major details. His hand ran through his hair even as he felt nothing. 'I'm smaller, and my body looks like-" Keter's eyes widened with the horrifying realization. "Before I awakened."
"Keter, what is it that you are muttering? Have you decided to wait until you awaken for this trial?" Keter finally looked up at the man. The man was encased with sovereign steel, with a bellowing red cape attached to his back. His face was as dull as when he had last met him.
"Anvi– Uncle." Keter instantly realized who was in front of him. The mere sight of him helped Keter finally regain his bearings. Keter looked towards the moonlit lake, its pale dissonance pushed his every nerve further onto the edge. 'Oh, I see. I'm right before my right of passage. When I slayed my reflection. Wait.' Keter looked around him seeing the Mirror lake in all its beauty. The still grass and the endless sea of trees swayed with the gentle wind. 'This is wrong, the Right of Passage should be taken in the hall of imagination. And why can't I feel the wind?" Keter walked towards the lake, his every step measured and precise as the water solidified under his foot. Only once he reached the middle did he look back. "I'm ready, uncle." Keter watched as the image of chains and lanterns flashed through the reflection within the water. 'I should go along with the scenario as I find a way to solve this.'
Keter suddenly winced as an intense throbbing ravaged his head. 'Ugh, fuck what?' The world around Keter seemed to quiver. Anvil's figure distorted and twisted into a monstrous, elongated shape. Its neck twisted and bent, its grey leathery flesh warped under its own rotational force-
'A headache? Makes sense, I guess I was wildly nervous before I did this rite of passage the first time.' Keter rolled his shoulders as the headache disappeared; some of the water from the lake splashed as he brushed himself. Wetting his combat attire. "Hm?" Keter looked down as he felt the bare wetness against his skin. 'Hm? The reflections are different now. A mirror and two swords.'
"Stop looking down. And here, take this." Anvil's touch wasn't rough, nor was it soft, as his human hand lifted his chin. Keter soon found that an enchanted sword had found its way into his right hand. 'Well, my only hand, there really was no need to differentiate since I only had one arm to begin with.' Keter swung the sword a few times, swiftly getting used to it. "Your works are as good as always, perfect length for my height, perfect weight for my strength, and perfect for dealing with Others. I assume that the enchantment on this things is to allow me to hit non-corporeal enemies?"
Anvil's emotionless gaze bore into his soul for a moment before he nodded. "I will ask one last time, are you ready?" His grip was tight and uncaring, yet held its own kind of comfort as Anvil's hands took a resting spot on his shoulders.
"I am," Keter said simply. 'I've passed it once, I could easily do so again.'
"Good, now remember, don't look down, don't acknowledge the reflections in the water. And don't listen to the whisper of foreigners." Anvil then stepped off the water as Keter's reflection began to take form.
Keter frowned. 'That's different. Anvil's original words were "Good, now remember, don't acknowledge the reflections in the mirror. And don't listen to the whispers of the others." Why has it changed? And what does he mean by foreigners?' Keter pushed such thoughts away as the other finally stepped out of the lake.
And from the lake it came. The first thing that Keter saw was its deep alabaster skin, which slowly began to leak liquid as black as viscous tar, which soon formed its hair. Next, its distinct yet dull vermilion-red eyes that were filled with an endless lust for blood, formed on its pale face. A soft yet vicious smile formed once one of its bare legs emerged from Mirror Lake, letting it push itself up. Soon enough, it stood bare and haggard upon the surface of the lake. Keter was not ashamed to say that he saw 'heaven' as it stood.
Keter knew he should be off put, suspicious, and trying to send this thing to the grave, but- 'Was Morgan always this dreamy? I- I think I'm aroused. And since when did Morgan have those kinds of obscene curves? Fuck it's hard to focus with that in front of me.' Keter was struggling with theis enemy.
The other's dull eyes seemed to gain a magnificent spark as a malignant and bloody cut seemed to carve its way down her bare torso. And soon enough, the other's body was covered in cuts, bruises, and broken bones. And yet there it stood sharper than any sword. And finally, it spoke. "Y̶̩̿o̶̤͝u̴̯̍–̸̳̌ ̴̡͘Ý̸̠o̶̬͑ṳ̵̀–̴̺̑ ̶͇͘k̸̦͒i̷̗̿l̴͎̓l̶͇̀e̴̳̾d̴̫̅ ̶͍̍M̷̗̏E̷̲̔!̷̧͋"
Keter's happy mood was instantly shot. 'Ah, I had almost forgotten.' Sadness flickered through his eyes as he stared at the mangled body of his best friend and cousin. Keter brought his sword up to his side as he mentally prepared himself for the fight. 'This will be difficult. I don't know why the reflection is mimicking her, but it more than likely copied her flaw, which will make this battle difficult. And well, I'm not immune to her and her body is rather– distracting to say the least.'
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