At the same time, Stark and Hafen had gathered enough wood to last them through the night.
Stark sat on a log and stared at the claymore. He ran a finger along its sharp edge. "This thing is incredible. I can't wait to try it on something big," he commented with a smirk. He held it up with ease compared to before.
Hafen sat opposite him by the unlit campfire. He fiddled with the katana. He unsheathed and sheathed the sword repeatedly, practicing the fluidity. "It's a weapon, Stark. Not a toy," he cautioned.
Stark looked up at the moon, and a worried expression formed on his face. "It's been too long. Matteo should have been back by now," he pointed out.
From the forest, a high-pitched, agonizing shriek cut through the night.
Stark shot to his feet. "Matteo," he gasped. His face hardened, and he firmly grabbed the claymore. "Let's go," he commanded.
Hafen stood up, and he gripped the katana. "Wait. We don't know what's out there," he forewarned.
Stark ignored him and charged into the darkness. "Matteo! I'm coming," he roared.
Hafen sighed and cautiously pursued him. "Stark, be careful," he pleaded.
A short while later, Stark blindly followed the scream's direction and crashed through the undergrowth. He held a determined look. He skillfully jumped down a hill into a patch of leaves for a soft landing.
However, the patch of leaves was actually a covered-up hole in the ground, and it crumbled into a deep pit.
Startled, Stark plummeted down the trap with a yelp. He reached out and grasped a rock on the wall, breaking his fall. Hanging with one hand, he glanced down and panted. His eyes opened impossibly wide.
At the bottom, large spikes protruded from the ground.
"You've got to be kidding me. Whose idea was it to have deadly traps," Stark demanded to know with a stammer. His fingers started to slip, and he gulped. His body trembled. He looked around for something else to hold. His frantic search halted as his eyes stared towards the top. His eyebrows furrowed with concern.
A low creak echoed from the top of the pit. A boulder rolled around the edge before descending the hole.
Stark's face turned pale with panic. He pulled himself up with all his strength. Using the small rock as a boost, he kicked off the wall and launched himself to the other side. His footing struggled as he landed on a narrow ledge. His chest heaved after he barely avoided the boulder.
The boulder crashed down below and shattered against the spikes. Dust and small debris flew up.
Stark let out a sigh of relief. He looked up at the top of the hole. "Now, how do I get out of here," he questioned and examined the hole. He spotted a series of small rocks carved into the wall. He took a deep breath and climbed. He reached for one, but it crumbled under his grip. He swiftly jammed the claymore into the rock wall and dangled from the hilt. He swayed back and forth until he found a stable footing. "This is tougher than I thought," he muttered with a gravelly tone. He pulled out the claymore and made a thoughtful expression. He remembered Henry's words.
"You have a big weakness, my son. You act before you think. Remember this: Your mind can be a great weapon. With focus, you can achieve almost anything," Henry's words echoed in Stark's head.
"I need to focus and think," Stark now whispered. He squeezed the claymore, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He thought of a rope.
The claymore glowed green, and a strange energy spread from it. It went up his arm and through the rest of his body. He opened his eyes and stared at the sword with determination.
Vines grew from the hilt of the claymore. They wrapped around his arm and slithered up the wall. Next, they firmly constricted around the trees above and anchored themselves to them.
Stark pulled on the vine and tested its resilience. "So, this is what it can do," he noted with a grin. Using the vines as a rope, he climbed up the wall with renewed vigor. Soon, he emerged from the pit. He wiped the dirt from his clothes and lowered the claymore.
The claymore stopped its glow. The vines withered into wisps of energy and mixed with The Sacred Forest's energy.
Stark stared at the weapon in his hand and muttered, "Incredible. Now, where's Matteo?" He scanned the dark forest and recalled the direction of his brother's cries. He steadily moved into the darkness.
Deeper in the forest, arrows had pierced multiple trees around a hanging body.
Matteo, with an arrow in his leg, dangled with no struggle. His eyes were closed, and his breath slowed.
Just then, Stark crashed through the bushes. He looked up and called, "Matteo." He jumped on the trunk of the tree. Employing his improved agility, he planted a foot on the trunk and launched himself into the air. With a swift motion, he cut the rope.
Matteo fell into Stark's arms.
Stark landed gracefully and skidded with Matteo in his arms. He laid him on the ground and urged, "Matteo, wake up! Are you alright?" He shook him.
Matteo's eyes fluttered open, and he let out a weak moan. "Stark," he whispered.
"Don't worry. I'm here now," Stark comforted. He narrowed his eyes and sought to know, "What happened?"
"I was gathering berries when a big spider attacked me. I activated a trap when I ran. And I think... I must have passed out," Matteo mumbled and attempted to bend his leg. Regretting it immediately, he shrieked in pain, "It hurts!" He clutched his leg and winced.
"The traps are deadly," Stark affirmed. He inspected the arrow in Matteo's leg. He broke both ends. He firmly grabbed it and warned, "This is going to hurt."
Matteo nodded with a grueling frown and braced himself. His face wrinkled in agony, and he yelped.
With one swift pull, Stark removed the arrow and focused his attention on the oozing blood. "If only we had bandages," he murmured.
Suddenly, his claymore emitted a green light once again. Energy sparked from the blade and coalesced into a large, thin materialization.
Stark's eyes widened in amazement. "No way," he gasped.
The claymore's energy had solidified into a large leaf.
Stark caught it before it could float away. He looked at the claymore in disbelief. He tightened his grasp and sneered at the realization.
More leaves shot from the blade. One by one, they wrapped around Matteo's leg. As they came together, they formed a large, solid bandage.
"What in the world? How did you do that," Matteo interrogated in bewilderment.
"I don't know. I guess... I have control of plants," Stark assumed. He carefully picked Matteo up and flung him over his shoulder. "We have to get back to the camp," he declared. His eyes darted around the area for any traps.
"I'm going to fail the trial, aren't I," Matteo inquired with a worried tone.
"You're not failing anything. That old man never said anything about us not helping each other out," Stark argued as he walked with Matteo on his shoulder.
Stark and Matteo ventured back to their camp. After the short trek, they arrived and found a lone pile of firewood.
"Where's Hafen," Matteo questioned with a frown.
Keeping a thoughtful and concerned expression, Stark expressed, "He must have followed me out. I hope he's alright." He gently placed Matteo on a log. His stomach growled. He rubbed his stomach and made a pained expression.
"I collected a lot of berries. They're in my pockets," Matteo pointed out and reached into his stuffed pockets. He pulled out a handful of blueberries.
A couple of them fell to the ground.
Stark took the handful and ate them. "Mmm. You're a lifesaver," he savored.
Matteo smiled and insisted, "You're the lifesaver," he remarked and gestured to his bandaged leg. He pulled out more blueberries and shared them with a blissful look.
However, their moment of relief was brief. As the moon reached the very top, an eerie, cold breeze blew over the cliff. The temperature instantly dropped dangerously low.
Matteo stopped eating and shivered. "I'm cold," he complained and crossed his arms. He breathed out a visible breath.
Stark attempted to create a fire by rubbing two sticks together. Sweat dropped from his forehead, and he stopped. "It's not working. It's too cold and windy," he mumbled and tossed the sticks aside. He sighed and sat on a log with Matteo. He looked up at the moon and wondered, "Where is Hafen? He would know what we could do." His body shivered instinctively, and he clenched his teeth.
Matteo placed the rapier beside him and pouted. Keeping his hold, he muttered, "I wish we had a fire."
Simultaneously, the rapier smoldered a faint, red glow.
Matteo stared at it, and a flicker of hope lit inside him. "My rapier is glowing. Maybe... Maybe it can help us," he speculated. He picked up the slender blade and pointed it towards the pile of firewood. He thought of a roaring fire. He, trying to channel it into reality, hardened his gaze and focus.
A small, flickering spark flew from the tip and landed on a dry leaf. It fizzled out almost immediately.
"Almost. I can do this," Matteo encouraged himself. He took a deep breath and tried again. Just then, he received a significant flashback.
Henry and Adelia embraced him in a massive hug.
Matteo remembered thinking, "My first hug. So, this is the warmth of a parent's love. As an orphan, I had never experienced it. It's so cozy."
The memory faded.
Matteo's expression became filled with compassion. He held the rapier with both hands and pointed it at the firewood. A single tear fell down his cheek.
In an instant, a small, intense jet of flame shot from the rapier's tip. It struck the firewood, and a small campfire ignited.
Stark witnessed it in amazement. "Wow! Your sword can create fire," he exclaimed and huddled closer to the campfire.
Matteo sighed in relief, and he dropped the rapier. He crawled closer, too, and smiled. He sat on the ground and extended his hands toward the warmth.
Where do such powers of the swords come from? How did Stark and Matteo awaken them? Will Hafen return in one piece?