Eyes opening as though pulled startlingly from a slumber, Zack felt himself plummeting head-first through what seemed an endless abyss of darkness. Panicked, he writhed and spun through the air with his best impression of catlike movement in the effort of correcting his position, hoping that his feet might find ground to land on. His hair began to fly upward, his helpless body feeling the acceleration of its descent into the unknown depths below. Faster and faster, it seemed each shift in his alignment exacerbated the sense of falling, until...
Finally! He managed to set his feet below him; he at least stood some chance if he could just land on his feet.
However, just as his body righted itself into a better landing posture, he felt the speed of his dive slow. He was no longer in a perilous free-fall; where he should have reach terminal velocity, a force began to counter his momentum. Rather than slamming in a knee-shattering impact, Zack slowly floated as if struck by a weightlessness. Gently, and beyond relieved, he set down softly upon a barely visible surface of an obscure material. As if activated by the pressing of his feet against it, the surface suddenly lit up with a sudden brightness with no apparent origin.
Now bathed in the ethereal light, Zack could clearly see where, and what, he was standing upon. His eyes widened in disbelief. Firmly beneath his weight was a large, circular space, formed by what felt like a sort of stone, yet glowed similarly to stained glass filtering light. Set upon the surface was a massive scale, mosaic style work of art. Wanting a better view of the imagery, Zack stepped back several paces, faltering to regain balance as his heel landed upon a sudden nothingness. Shocked, he spun about, he peered downward. He let out a harsh gasp at the view... or lack thereof. The structure he was standing on was a sort of tower, or pillar, that spanned downward so far the that darkness surrounded it.
Sighing out relief from this near miss, he turned back to view the mosaic more clearly. Familiar figures: himself and some of his classmates from school, were the focus of the design. Perplexed, he tread curiously toward the center of the pillar.
"So much to do, but so little time..."A voice broke the eerie silence. Zack, flustered, looked around, drawing his fists in expectation. But there was no one else around.
"...Take your time."Zack loosened up, and stopped for a second. The voice, he realized, was calling not from somewhere in the darkness, but from somewhere deep within himself. It was clear as his own thoughts, yet not his voice; familiar, yet foreign at the same time.
"Walk forward..."
"Can you do it?"The voice need not have asked; Zack, without hesitation, set his steps toward the center of the mosaic. Then came a quiver and a quake; it felt like the pillar was shaking. Zack adjusted, finding his balance enough to focus on what was happening before his eyes: three stone pedestals rose from the floor, somehow without breaking through the material of the mosaic. Each was bathed in its own light in addition to that which lit the pillar. Upon all three pedestals where items, weapons of sorts; one was a shield; the other a staff or wand; the third presented a sword. All three weapons bore the same emblem.
"Choose."On instinct, Zack moved swiftly towards the pedestal bearing the the sword. He clasped it in a ceremonious fashion, as a knight might receive a gift from a king. He brandished the blade before himself, carefully inspecting it. While it hadn't seemed so at first glance, it was quite formidable up close. The blade was sharp, the tip pointed to perfection, the weight balanced and easily handled. Still, he felt a heaviness, though more so in his heart rather than his in arms or shoulders.
"Power of the Warrior. Courageous strength. A sword destructive power."A duty? Responsibility? he wondered before another rumbling shook him, forcing him to abandon the pedestal. All three pedestals, as cleanly as they had emerged, sunk back into the floor.
"There will be times you have to fight.""Now?"A cluster of shadows raced across the mosaic floor, homing in on Zack's position. As they drew closer, they rose from the floor into the forms of five, wild looking creatures, pure black, wide, sinister, yellow eyes. They split from each other, circling Zack like ravens eying their next meal. But Zack, without knowing it, could see clear what he needed to do. He gripped the hilt of his new sword firmly. As the first shadow pounced, he swung the blade up on a diagonal, slicing through the creature as it fell towards him; it's form dissipated into a black, smoke-like substance before vanishing completely.
Zack turned, facing the other four shadows. Another made a leap towards him. Fluidly, he slashed the blade on a horizontal, cutting through it just as easily as the first. The third ran along the ground, sinking into the floor as it moved towards him, and then rising back up, scratching at Zack's leg. Gritting his teeth against the unexpectedly sharp pain, Zack pulled back, and dropped his blade, cutting through the beast.
Two of the creatures now remained, and both, learning from the error of their three packmates, assailed Zack in unison, both running at him from the side. Zack quickly shifted to his left, putting space between himself and the shadow coming from his right, while thrusting the blade through the one on the left. The shadow dispersed, and Zack pulled the sword back, bashing the last shadow down with the pommel of the hilt, knocking it to the ground. The creature, flustered but not defeated, staggered in recovery from the hit. Wasting no time, Zack charged on the monster, driving the tip of the blade through its head.
Feeling victorious for a moment, Zack breathed heavily in search of his breath.
"The closer you get to the Light, the greater your shadow will become." On cue, another shadow appeared. This one, however, emerged from underneath Zack where he stood.
"My shadow?" The shadow grew exponentially, rising from the ground, yellow eyes opening and glaring down upon the young warrior with malice. At least two stories tall, the hulking, muscular beast loomed over Zack and readied itself to strike.
"No. No! No!" Zack wailed as the massive fist barreled into him, breaking his feeble attempt to block or parry the strike. He closed his eyes, shamed in the impending, overwhelming defeat.
"But don't be afraid."Beneath his feet, Zack felt a strange oozy substance forming in a pool. Slowly, he began to sink into the shadows, while lashing out in a fruitless effort to escape.
"And don't forget."
He slashed and thrust as much as his arms could, but each cut his blade made into the shadows mended almost instantly, returning even stronger and ticker than before.
"You hold the mightiest weapon of all."Zack tightened his closed eyes and held his breath as his head fell through the pool. Then, there came a complete silence, and finally, the voice calling one last time.
"You are the ones, who will open The Door."---------/---------
Zack awoke, his torso bolting up right as his eyes flew open in shock and fear. His face felt cold, and his body numb as he began to come fully awake. His senses, foggy at first, slowly returned to him. He heaved a deep breath, and looked around to confirm that he had indeed woken up. He craned his neck up at a sudden rattling, clanking noise above him.
"The trains." He shifted to a seated position, setting his feet on the floor. and sank thoughtfully into the couch cushion. He had fallen asleep in the spot that he and friend often hung out at; "The Usual Spot" as they called it, tucked into a back alley of Twilight Town.
"A dream?" he thought. He stood up, the weight of something upon his lap falling to the floor. He looked down, his train of thought broken. At his feet lay his Struggle Bat; he had been holding it even as he slept. He shook his head, dismissing the dream. He had no time to dwell it. Kneeling down, he grabbed the Struggle Bat, propping it over his shoulder as he headed out into the alley to train.
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