Mephier laughed heartily.
"Fang Shadowpaw, I know you well. I have watched you quite thoroughly over the last few years, and you no doubt have heard me whispering to you on the wind while you were training with Sister Laughing Rain. Isn't that right, Pup? Yes, I have been watching you...Maybe not in a physical body, but I have eyes and ears on the Plane of the Living who do my bidding. But that is not what you are here to talk about..."
The massive nightmare slowly reached up to his shoulder and unsheathed a sword easily fourteen feet long, and looking to weigh above eight tons of dark metal. There was a violet glow to the edge of the black metal that made up the blade, a show of the death dealing potential of the weapon. A weapon that was not immediately brandished in combat, but used as a leaning post.
"You say you have come to take a soul from me? A soul of one of your 'fallen comrades'. Do you know what I do to the souls of those unworthy for the Living? I pull them apart, rape their very being...Once they pass from the Living Plane, they are mine, to do with as I please. The holy are nothing but playthings to me. You think that what you do out there will save you from a life of eternal torment here with me? You are still a pup, suckling on your mother's teat."
Death laughed at the foolish thought, and Fang slowly looked over at his teacher, but Winter Moon was standing off to the side, his voice speaking softly to the young monk.
"Remember your training, Fang. What he says are lies, he is trying to get into your mind and beat you with your own doubt. Don't let him do that. Embrace the nothingness all around you, focus on nothing, but be aware of everything."
Fang closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in hopes of calming the fear and doubt flooding his mind, and this is when Mephier struck, slicing through the air in an upward arc, trying to catch Fang unprepared. In his relaxing though, Fang became more loose, and expected this tactic. As he released his breath in a sigh, Fang folded backwards, doing a back handspring to extend the distance between he, and his foe. Now holding his hands up in a full martial arts stance, ears pricked and ready for battle, he opened his eyes.
"You speak lies, Death. You look to intimidate a heart and mind focused on the task of saving a soul. If I must sacrifice myself to save that soul, I will do so."
Fang took another deep breath and slowly began moving in towards his opponant, but also sidestepping slowly to his right, making Mephier turn slowly left, blade held as if it weighed nothing, and ready to attack or counter, anything Fang did.
"Your heart is not as pure as you would like others to believe, Fang...I know your secrets. I have seen what you want to keep hidden, and you will be judged for it. I have a SPECIAL place for you, when this fight is over, and your soul is mine...." The stallion boomed, stepping forward with a loud clink of his horseshoe off the stone surface of the floor.
Fang momentarily lost his composure, sprinting straight at Mephier. "You lie!"
With a sidestep to the right, Mephier was in prime position to swipe Fang with his sword, and didn't miss the opportunity. Swinging his sword like a baseball bat, Mephier barely missed Fang, as he ran by, but damage was dealt in the form of the blade cutting Fang's left ear right off, causing the tissue to instantly decay as it, and the blood, flew across the dimly lit room.
Fang couldn't help but yelp out in pain, stumbling and rolling away as fast as he could, clutching the wound on the side of his head which seemed to be already cauderizing with dead tissue from the dark fire of the nightmare's blade.
Fang looked to Winter Moon, who had gone to his knees in a meditative trance. He would be unable to help Fang in this final test in a physical sense, but perhaps his teacher held some spiritual aid should his young student require it. Fang wasn't sure, but he had no time to try and ponder it.
Mephier laughed heartily, a booming, intimidating sound that seemed to shake the stone and morter all around them. "What is this? Winter Moon, you told me that you would be giving me a challenge, a man of incredible prowess, and instead you send a boy, barely weaned? You are slipping old man in not only your teaching, but your ability to identify talent."
Winter Moon didn't break his trance, keeping head bowed, and eyes closed, but Fang slowly rose, unsteady at first, but finally got his base. To this, Mephier laughed and threw away the sword, which disappered into the shadows. He walked over to a pillar, to a large crate, and pulled out a hammer large enough to come to the stallion's waist. The head of the mighty hammer was black as well, but didn't seem to sport any visible enchantment.
"You have not proven to me that you are worthy to restore a soul from bondage here, Young One, but perhaps if I even the odds a little more, you will not feel so underpowered?" Mephier laughed, bringing his hammer up to rest on his shoulder.
Fang didn't wait, sprinting as fast as he could towards his opponant, who unshouldered his weapon and swung it down with crushing force, the stone shattering and splintering as it missed the young monk who had juked right, and now slid right at the unprotected joint just above his opponant's hoof. When his footpaw hit the joint, Mephier buckled slightly, just enough for Fang to kick up to his feet, and then leap up to the shoulder's of Mephier's armor, ripping the helmet off, and delivering a punishing blow just behind Mephier's right ear.
The move caught the larger beast off guard, and gave Fang that element of surprise, but the strike caused an even more noticible effect, as the stallion reeled dizzily from the concussive force. He stumbled backwards, dragging the hammer, until he ran into a stone pillar holding the ceiling up. Dust clouded from the weight of the creature hitting the post, and Fang lept off Death's shoulders, landing hard and rolling away to catch his breath and see what the next move would be.
Death moved with amazing swiftness, and in another upward arc, caught Fang squarely in the chest, ribs snapped with a wet crunching, and blood was sent from Fang's mouth as he was hurtled through the air, and into the hard wooden wall. The young monk did his best to rise, but as he did, Mephier took a step forward, raising his hoof to crush Fang. Just as he was about to, a deep, thunderous voice spoke.
"STOP! By order of Gnarlpaw! Do not crush this young monk, who showed strength of character and morals to try and stand up to you, Death. But you have proven him rash, and unprepared for the fight. Mephier, you have proven yet again, your prowess in combat, and understanding of how to intimidate not only with physicality, but with mental games as well, and for that, you must be commended." A white robed and hooded figure stepped up next to the prone body of Fang, who could strangely still hear the words spoken through the fog of unconsciousness.
"Take this lesson to heart, Fang. Learn from this loss. You will not be able to return to this test for a while. You will be sent out into the forests surrounding your academy to learn from the spirits and forces of Fenyar. When you have learned what it means to be one with your surroundings, and use them to protect not only your body, but your mind and soul as well, I will find you and bring you back here, but until then, you are not to set foot in Mephier's Lair."
And then the figure turned and walked away, and slowly Fang could feel his spirit being pulled back to his body, which through the damage done to his spirit and mind, took it's toll on his body. He was no longer missing his ear, but was deaf to that side of his body. He did not have the crushed ribs and internal bleeding, but the muscles has spasmed and locked, leaving him unable to breathe for a considerable amount of time.
Above all though, the words of Gnarlpaw rang in his mind. He had not failed, but had not passed his test. He would have to serve the forests of Fenyar until he had learned some lesson that the forces needed to teach him. So after spending the rest of the day in a hot spring bath with healing herbs and concoctions, then being bandaged and wrapped up, he packed his things and left.
He hadn't taken all of his possessions, as he knew he would, some day, return, but he wore his most comfortable robe, wrapped in the fine cloak given to him by a friend in the quartermaster's office, and enough food and water to last him a few days. Without looking back, he disappeared into the brush and trees of the forest, until a time when he would be guided back not by Winter Moon, or Night Eyes, but by Gnarlpaw himself. And when that day came, he would truely be ready to pass the ultimate test...
