Arwin shifted the shield in his grip, grabbing by the bottom with both hands and swinging it like a bat. A resounding clang ripped through the clearing as the thick chunk of metal slammed into the Wyrm’s head. The shield hummed in Arwin’s grip as vibrations tore down it and into his body.
Black blood splattered across the ground and the Wyrm stumbled past Arwin with a pained hiss. A foot slammed down on the ground just to his side, shaking the earth beneath his feet, and the monster’s massive tail sailed out for his head.
Arwin had time to dodge. He could have dropped to his stomach or flung himself to the side if he’d wanted to — but he did neither. This was a vision. It was a contest of wills, and it was more than that. It was a test. The yet to be made shield was testing him, but he was also testing it.
This goes both ways. If you want me to make you, then show me what you’ve got.
Arwin drove the blue tower shield down into the ground before him and braced his shoulder against it. His muscles tightened and he bared his teeth. Arwin dug his feet into the ground and gritted his teeth, bracing for impact.
An immense force slammed into the shield. Wind roared past Arwin’s head like the howl of the dragon. Bone crunched. Splatters of wet, black matter flew past him and painted across the floor.
Arwin staggered back, nearly losing his grip on the shield, but he just barely managed to keep his balance. His teeth clattered from the force of the impact and his arm ached, but the shield hadn’t moved.
It had taken a direct hit from a Wyrm without so much as budging from the spot that he’d planted it. A grin crawled across Arwin’s features and he lifted the shield, locking eyes with the Wyrm as he moved it out of the way.
The end of the monster’s tail looked like it had gotten caught under a falling boulder. Fragments of bone jutted out from brutalized, weeping flesh. It hung askew and limp. The rest of the tail was still completely functional, but Arwin had actually hurt the enormous monster without an offensive weapon to aid him.
A crackle of intent ran down the line connecting Arwin to the shield. Amusement. A new emotion. It did not come alone. A flicker of knowledge curled through Arwin’s thoughts. It was a desire — one borne from neither him nor the Wyrm. The knowledge came with power.
His connection to the shield strengthened. Trails etched across the surface of the blue metal. Jagged patterns formed and the metal itself changed. Two thick spikes rose up from its top, curling like horns. The item shortened until it only covered around half of his body. Its sides pulled inward and curved down to a point at its bottom.
The Wyrm let out a pained scream. Half the teeth vanished from its mouth and the rotted scales covering its body crumbled, falling away to dust. Arwin looked from the shield to the monster across from him.
He’d misunderstood the vision. This wasn’t a three man fight. There were only two parties. Two souls balanced on opposite ends of a scale fighting over a shared pool of power — a pool that he’d just taken a chunk out of.
The Wyrm screamed in fury. It lurched forward. A pulse of energy traveled down the shield and into Arwin’s body. He could feel it like an extension of his arm. It spoke to him, and it told him to wait.
This wasn’t a fight anymore.
It was a demonstration.
The Wyrm swiped at Arwin with a paw easily as big as he was. Enormous talons howled through the air and sought his head, aiming to carve him to pieces. Arwin’s feet remained locked in place.
His hands did not. The shield pulled itself into motion. It used his body as a tool, drawing magic from his soul. Power gathered within its metal. It thrummed in synchronization with Arwin’s pounding heart.
It snapped out, black energy flashing around it at the last instant before the Wyrm’s blow struck Arwin. They connected in the air, and for a brief moment, the world slammed to a halt. Then the Wyrm’s claws shattered.
A scream of pain tore through the air as the Wyrm’s limb snapped back. Its bones crunched and its arm bent back at an impossible angle. The few scales that remained on its body exploded like they’d been struck by a hammer.
It skidded back and lost its footing, falling into a roll that sent it crashing back into the treeline in a huge cloud of dust. Loud crashes followed after it as trees pitched and crashed all around it.
Arwin looked down at the shield in his hand, his heart slamming even harder than it had been a moment ago. He hadn’t even felt the impact. Every scrap of power that the Wyrm had brought to bear against him and been reflected back.
But, even as he knew the shield’s strength, he knew its weakness. Its power — was immense, but its window was thin. He had to use it the exact moment he was struck. If he didn’t, the shield was nothing more than a hunk of metal.
“I can work with that,” Arwin said, striding toward the Wyrm as it struggled to rise again. He felt the shield’s intent pull back, his connection to it fade. It was still present, but not nearly as strong.
The demonstration was over. Now it was time for him to take matters into his own hands. Arwin came to a stop before the Wyrm. He made no move to attack the monster as it found its footing.
It snarled in fury, the noise garbled by all the vile blood welling in its throat. Arwin met the monster’s eyes one last time. The Wyrm seemed smaller than it had been before. It didn’t give him time to figure out if it actually was or not. With a roar, the monster charged.
Its head snapped down, the few fangs remaining in its mouth glistening as it bit down at Arwin. He raised his shield. Magic coursed from his body and into the blue metal. Wind from the Wyrm’s charge blew his hair back, and yet he made no move to do anything but watch.
The Wyrm slammed into him. Arwin brought the shield to bear. Jaws slammed home. Black light flashed.