The Soul Forge

It was still late at night when my trial ended. The first thing I wanted to do, as soon as I pulled myself out of bed, was see it with my own eyes, no longer just an image from memories, but in real life. The black moon. People believed it was a mark, a curse that had appeared on the very night the rifts descended upon the world. In just a single night, the familiar, comforting moon was devoured, replaced by its twisted reflection: the black moon. No one had ever figured out how it happened, just as nobody understood the rifts or the cursed anomalies that poured from them. Yet it did happen, and the world was never the same.
I wandered over to the window, my bare feet cold against the wooden floor. With a quiet creak, I opened the hatch and pushed the pane forward, leaning out to take in the night. The darkness was suffocating, far deeper than any night back on Earth, because the pale glow of the old moon was gone, snuffed out completely. Yet, weirdly, I could see everything around me with perfect clarity.
It was a strange sensation: everything submerged in shadow, yet my eyes pierced through the darkness itself. It wasn’t because there was any light, there simply wasn’t, but because my new awakened abilities let me see through the darkness as if it were nothing at all.
I let my gaze wander, marvelling at this new perception, and then my eyes found it, the moon. Or rather, what was left. The black moon, a deep void hanging in the sky, barely visible except for how it blocked out the starlight behind it. The only reason humans could even spot it was because it was a perfect patch of nothingness, a hole the exact size of the old moon, surrounded by a sky bursting with stars. It stood out in the heavens like a scar, like an absence where something vital should have been.
Looking at it now, it was genuinely unlike anything I had ever seen. As I stared, a creeping dread began to crawl up my spine. I felt goosebumps rise on my arms as a strange pressure pressed at my mind. The longer I gazed, the more I sensed a danger in it, as though the black moon was something mortals were never meant to see. My vision began to burn, and I knew, with a certainty that came from somewhere deep and instinctive, that if I kept looking, I would lose myself, lose my soul to whatever that thing truly was.
With a shuddering sigh, I pulled back from the window and sat on the edge of the bed, propping myself up in the corner. I felt restless, too wound up to sleep. My body itched in a new way, the darkness coursing inside me unsettled and raw. Something else gnawed at me, too: whenever I closed my eyes, my mind drifted back to the trial, replaying the countless ways I had died. It was disturbing,, a burden I knew I would have to carry, at least for a while.
Well, if I couldn’t sleep, I might as well visit the soul forge. Maybe it would help me understand my nexus affinity and abilities better. Entering the soul forge was a privilege only available to the awakened. It was a gateway, a link between an awakened’s soul and their nexus, allowing them to study their connection, examine their abilities, and eventually access future trials once their core was full.
I had never stepped inside before; the option had only opened to me after I awakened. Yet, even though it was new, the feeling was oddly familiar, like something my body had always known how to do. It was as if my fingertips tingled, waiting for the chance to reach out and make contact.
I gave in to the sensation, focusing on the pulse that hummed around my core. I let it ground me, let it pull me in with a gentle but irresistible suction. The feeling was strange, almost like plummeting at impossible speed, falling through darkness. It didn’t last long. Suddenly, my vision blackened. When it cleared, I found myself standing not in my room, but in a chamber I recognised from the trial. The pristine, dark walls loomed around me. That old, instinctive feeling of impending doom lingered, the same one that had haunted me during the trial.
But this time, I knew I was safe. I took deep breaths, steadying myself before turning to look around. Not everything was the same. In the past, the chamber had been barren, a void with no end, where walls and ceiling blurred together. Now, at the centre of the space, I saw it: a sphere, massive, at least twice my height in diameter, suspended in the dark. Its surface was black, camouflaging with the surroundings, but the pulse that radiated from it gave the sphere an ethereal, shimmering glow, betraying its position.
I could see now that the core was nearly empty, barely any reserves of pulse swirling inside. It hovered before me, surrounded on three sides by oddly shaped pillars, arranged like the points of a triangle.
Two of the pillars were alike. They rose endlessly, composed of flowing darkness that spiralled upward like streams of smoke. Silver inscriptions glimmered on their surfaces, runes that twisted and shimmered with an unearthly radiance. The third “pillar” was different; it was not a pillar at all, but a massive sword, stuck point-first into the floor, its curved blade occasionally catching the light. Unlike the others, the sword had a visible end: its wrapped handle stood upright, the entire weapon looming over my soul forge like a silent predator.
The sword was colossal, easily the size of a building. Just thinking about whoever or whatever could wield such a weapon sent another chill through me. But I understood what it signified, and the sight of it brought a sigh of relief.
Thankfully, the hard work of this body’s previous owner hadn’t gone to waste.
These three pillars were the foundation of every awakened. Each represented a different kind of ability, each tied to an aspect of the soul and the individual’s unique nexus affinity. The active abilities were powers that required a conscious effort and constant use of pulse to manifest; the passive abilities, on the other hand, were always present in the background, as much a part of the body as taste or smell; and finally, there was the weapon art.
Every soul forge was unique. Nobody knew for sure why that was, though most assumed it had something to do with the soul’s relationship to the nexus affinity. The active and passive abilities were usually straightforward, but weapon arts were notoriously complex. Each affinity encouraged the awakened to follow the path of a single weapon. Learning another weapon was possible, of course, but the growth and compatibility an awakened showed with the “right” weapon was unmatched by anything else. The nobles loved to gamble on training with different arms, hoarding every possible advantage, but it was always a risk. Imagine spending your whole life mastering the spear, only to find your affinity bonded with knives instead. Trying to force your body to relearn everything at that point could be devastating, especially for children and the young, whose bodies were still developing.
For me, or perhaps for the original owner of this body, the connection to the sword had always been strong. As a noble, he had started training with it early, and now, knowing that my weapon art was also the sword, I was grateful. The muscle memory my body retained would help me immensely. It was a liberating feeling, a rare stroke of good fortune.
I walked to the first pillar and examined the shimmering runes, hovering just above the surface in silver ink. At the top, it read: “The Active Pillar.” Below that, more runes flowed in a neat, elegant script:
Strike not as flesh, but as dusk entwined
Cloak thy form, shroud thy will,
Let darkness weave through knuckles and skin,
So every blow is the night’s own chill.
For that is the Shadow’s Veil.
My active ability. It seemed fairly straightforward, a power to cloak parts of my body in liquid darkness. I thought it would be defensive, maybe even offensive, or both. My mind raced with possibilities, imagining all the ways I could twist, refine, and wield such a power.
Curious, I made my way to the second pillar, the one beside it. At the top, the title lay: “The Passive Pillar.” Below, the runes read:
Gaze beyond the boundary of light,
Where all things hide, I see
The blind world stumbles in shadow’s domain,
But I am the watcher, the darkness sees me,
For I am under the Night’s Embrace.
So that explained it, this was the ability that allowed me to see in darkness, the skill I’d used to gaze out into the moonless night. The great thing about passive abilities was that you didn’t have to consciously learn them; they were innate, like any other sense. Active abilities and weapon arts, on the other hand, required real practice and mastery. The nexus affinity provided the means, but it was up to the awakened to use their gifts to the fullest.
Looking at my set of abilities, they seemed simple at first glance, but I could already sense the depth and potential they offered. The power to enhance both attack and defence, the ability to see in total darkness, these would make a huge difference, especially in a world where the black moon loomed overhead and night was a daily threat.
Finally, I turned to the sword. Dark and imposing, its curved blade had runes etched across the base, just like the other pillars. The inscription read:
The Blade of Absence
From shadow drawn, in silence cast,
My edge unseen, yet true
To pierce the armour of the waking world,
And leave a wound that midnight grew.
Allowing me the virtue of Shadow Pierce.
Reading the lines, I tried to imagine how the ability might work. Most likely, it would enhance my strikes with darkness, maybe even let me coat my sword and inflict wounds that couldn’t easily be healed, wounds that would fester with darkness, just like the verse described.
Going through each ability, I felt a sense of satisfaction. They suited my combat style perfectly. The only problem was, I had no idea how to channel them. I could sense the darkness within me, waiting, eager to obey, but it felt like there was a wall between us, almost as if I were mute, unable to command the power that was rightfully mine.
Well, this is where being from a noble family comes in handy. Time to pay my loving, ever-adoring father a visit.

Chapter end