83rd Ymiden 717
It was just the trial after his horrific expenditure of ether. While fighting the Lurkers with Aeon, Fridgar had landed himself in some deep shit on the verge of death. He'd only barely managed to use Chrysalis to save himself. After that, his spark coursed real pain through his body, likely screeching in protest as he overstepped his boundaries. other than that, nothing had gone wrong. Except... he couldn't use his Trachadon totem anymore. It wouldn't summon and it wouldn't allow him to become it. All he could imagine was that he'd somehow managed to piss it off.
This was distressing, it saddened the Lothar. This next to Finn deciding that he needed to leave and the obvious events with Halden... Totrial had been a stressful trial. It was now nearing its end; the sky had darkened with the orange suns lowering over the horizon, casting its last rays over the sky and the fields that he and his beloved traversed. They were on their way to Kaer Jeger. Now that they were hounds, they were due their first mutagen and had to undergo the dance of the graces.
The walk had been quiet mostly, both were exhausted from the shitstorm that had been the eighty third of Ymiden. The atmosphere was already starting to burn Fridgar's skin a little and Saun wasn't even in full effect, but would be in a few breaks. "What a trial..." Fridgar spoke from the blue, appearing diminished and about ready for a good night’s sleep. "Ugh, I can't believe how hot its gotten. Is it just me or does Saun get hotter every arc?" He hadn't yet told Alistair of his dance with death, how Aeon had saved his life just yestertrial. The human didn't need that sort of stress on his mind.
But, his troubled spark was starting to get to him. Something wasn't right with the Trachadon totem, something was very wrong. The wise thing to do would be to inform Alistair and seek advice... But if he'd known that Fridgar went off to fight a high-exceptional monster without him, he'd probably be upset. He just didn't want Alistair to get hurt; the human couldn't selfheal after all. That, and he didn't want to risk having to Trachadon bomb and accidentally kill his beloved in the process. Not only that, but over the past two dozen trials or so, Alistair had fought his battles for him. The Llewnos, the Albion, Halden... Fridgar needed to prove himself, and he had. But at what cost?
Fridgar reached into the side pouch of his bag and felt around his totems before collecting the Trachadon figurine. it was heavy in his paw, hard, cold. If it wasn't pissed at him, it had a strange way of expressing so. Fridgar shut his eyes as they walked, remorse rampant in his sigh. "Alistair, I've got to tell you something," he spoke suddenly once more, dread heavy in his voice. "You know how I went out hunting with Aeon yestertrial and the trial before? Well-" He was cut off with a bellowing roar. He recognised the roar, it was the Trachadon's.
Fridgar stopped in his tracks and looked about the immediate area. The roar quaked again, shaking the earth beneath their feet. Suddenly, the Trachadon figurine flew from Fridgar's grasp and hovered a good ten feet in the air. Around it grew the skeletal structure of the Trachadon, then the muscle and organs, then the skin. It was as though he'd cast Totem guardian; except he hadn't. "I'm not doing that, Alistair..." Fridgar warned, taking a step back and readying his broad axe.
When the beast opened its eyes, they weren't greeted with the usual emerald hue of its large iris. Instead, they met with fully crimson eyes, almost glowing in their sockets. the beast would roar in rebellion of the damages it had suffered at the hands of its master. Now was the time for revenge. Without further, pause, the creature swung its massive tusks for the pair. The beast was without adapted traits and was at default speed, but taking a hit would likely kill either of the still. Fridgar leaped backward, rolling across the floor and all. The beast only rushed forward to close the gap before slamming its tusks down where the Lothar had once stood. It wasn't holding back and seriously sought to destroy Fridgar. Only just escaping, Fridgar blinked atop the creature's back, panic rampant in his head.
How did he fight this thing without killing it? Could he fight it? was he meant to? Feeling its master's presence on its back, the beast dropped to the floor and rolled, throw Fridgar off its back from twenty feet up. Fridgar hit the ground hard and rolled, absorbing some of the impact and taking the rest with his strengthened bones. His ankle exploded with pain, heralding a sprain, but Fridgar was more than capable of enduring a minor wound with his level of endurance. The beast rolled onto its feet once more before turning to Fridgar and charging again...
