u/EkullSkullzz10318

The freezing cold of the Shanarian winds gnawed at Zelt’s skin as he climbed up the rough rock of Mt. Kardon, ignoring the frostbite that had already claimed five of his fingers. His claw-like nails were strong enough to help him climb, though, despite the numbness in his fingers.

Damn you, Klyden, Zelt thought. Why must you have died on me and forced me to climb up this damnable peak all by myself?

Zelt managed to suppress that feeling of anger and continued trudging on, climbing higher and higher upon this wretched mountain of coldness and despair.

But as he climbed a particularly rough part of the mountain, Zelt felt something starting to fall on his skin.

Snowflakes, Zelt recognized. Oh, gods, no.

As it started snowing, the cold sharpened intensely. Two of his other fingers also fell victim to frostbite. His immense strength, developed over countless years, began to weaken, threatening to make him fall and plummet to his untimely death.

Zelt should’ve expected this. Snowstorms weren’t that uncommon in the mountains of Shanar. The Oracle of Gennden herself warned him about this. The mountain will try to make you fail.

This doesn’t matter. Absolutely nothing shall stop me from reaching the top, and the gods will grant me a new name.

Zelt continued climbing despite everything.

At some point, the numbness in his fingers finally caught up to him, and he almost fell, his heart nearly stopping. But he managed to catch himself before falling, and he continued onward.

Eventually, he successfully reached the summit of the mountain, where a giant stone platform stood. It was made from crackstone, which is, as the name suggests, stone that appeared to be severely cracked. But that appearance is very deceptive. It makes you think it is weak, but in actuality it isn't. It's one of the toughest rocks on this side of the continent.

Zelt laid down on the crackstone and rested for a few daitunds. Above him was a purple sky that held thousands and thousands of stars. He could see the constellation of Zalden’s Eye. But as he observed the constellations, a voice echoed from above him, coming from no apparent source, and said with a tone so deep and divine and loud that it made Zelt feel minuscule:

“I command you to stand, Zelt of the House of Parshaun.”

He immediately stood up.

Oh gods, it is time, Zelt thought as he attempted to brush the snow off of him, trying to make himself look presentable, though his appearance was beyond saving after that climb.

“You are a man with a remarkable history,” the voice continued, now softer, “someone with indescribable talents. You were born to one of the wealthiest families in Pelshar and were ridiculed by your peers despite it.”

An old wound in Zelt reopened as he remembered it. The endless beshaming he suffered at the Academy, and the multiple executions his family committed against the people who did that.

God, the executions. Zelt winced. The voice continued indifferently.

“And despite this, you persevered and trudged onward. You were accepted into the Order of Nymwyth and began your journey towards being ascended. And now, you have accomplished your goal, up here, in the high mountains of Shanar. I shall now bequeath to you the Three Rewards.”

Oh, here it comes, Zelt thought, excitedly. He has trained for over three decades for this, and now those three decades are finally coming to fruition.

“The first reward: I decree that your name shall no longer be Zelt of the House of Parshaun. You shall now be called Zeltimere, of the House of the Ascended Ones.”

Zelt’s breath caught. “Zeltimere,” he said, testing the new name. And he felt that, deep within him, it fitted and fulfilled him perfectly.

“The second reward: I hereby gift you this divine spear, crafted in the highest point in the Great Above.”

A cloud began to form in the purple sky, bolts of lightning shooting out of it in all directions, but dissipating before it can make any real distance. Then, something fell out of the cloud and landed in front of him.

A spear.

Afterwards, the cloud dissipated. He carefully picked the spear up. It appeared to be made of lightly-colored bronze. The bottom was a lightning bolt, and the top of the spear was razor-sharp. Zeltimere easily deduced what the spear was going to be capable of. He was certain beyond a doubt that this weapon held the power of storms.

“This spear has the ability to unleash mighty storms anywhere in the land,” the voice said, confirming it. It continued. “It also possesses the power to leave marks even on the skin of a god. You shall have the pleasure of giving it a name yourself.”

Zeltimere thought about it for a moment before finally deciding. “The Masterbolt,” he said.

“A strong name,” the god said. “Now. The third reward: I shall now give you a divine purpose in life, a goal to base your new life as an Ascended One around. A goal that you must fulfill. And if you do not accomplish this goal, I shall strip you of all these rewards and condemn you to the deepest, most fiery pits of the Great Below. A place where your very essence will turn to ash and then reform over and over again.”

The threat didn’t make Zeltimere falter. “What is this new goal I must fulfill?”

“There will be a boy and a girl. Both will be born in a small fishing town in Grimcoast. They are destined to become Ascended Ones as well, but they shall have a purpose far greater than just that. One I cannot disclose. But, I can say this. Your purpose is to help them succeed. If they do not succeed, this world will be damned for an eternity.”

“How will I know who they are?” Zeltimere asked.

No response.

Then, in front of him, a portal opened. Its sides were made of grey fog, and Zeltimere could see that, through the portal, there was a massive field of green grass on the other side.

After a while of waiting for a response, he reluctantly walked through the portal and ended up in that field.