<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"Hmph. Fancy magic tricks will not save you, impudent prince. Knights....Kings....Magicians...Slaves...none have withstood against me and lived. If you were intelligent, you should have turned back at the gate, but I see what a fool you are. Stubborn, you humans. Your own lands are never enough, your greedy nature propelling you to plunder. Threaten me all you want, your words are hallow...you will not take what is mine."</span>Then there was a chuckle the reverberated in the air, vibrating over the surface of Sebastien's skin like a sickeningly soothing ripple, as if caressing the fine hairs over his skin in mocking.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"But then again...it's amusing to see you try."</span>Even if Sebastien couldn't see the gloating smile, the tone of voice gave it away. It was obvious now more than ever that the guardian of this mountain was toying with him, taking pleasure in mentally twisting his world every which way.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"I hope you enjoy climbing, would-be-king."</span>In a wisp of dark smoke, any physical form of the voice vanished, laving Sebastien alone once more. The shadowy world that had enveloped him dissipated, leaving him in the thick woods once more, though not without leaving a residue overtop of his body to prove that those murky waters he experienced was not of his imagination. The fog still persisted, but no distressed wails broke the silence, nor did any try to grab him again. Instead the human was left at the base of the mountain he had sought, having somehow traveled his way through the forest to it's very centre.  The large thick trees and their roots fought for purchase in the earth alongside the ashen coloured stone, as if the mountain had sprouted from the ground unnaturally and pushed them aside. Upon closer inspection it looked like the roots that touched the mountain were charred black, as if burned, before graduating into their natural rough brown.<br/><br/>From here on the only direction was to begin the steep climb of the mountain's jagged surface, or turn back into the suspicious woods. Off to the side just out of the nobleman's vision, there was a small semblance of a narrow path. It couldn't be wider than a foot, near impossible to walk on, but it would be better than attempting to find stable purchase along the way.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Up in that cavern, the dragon mused over the successful triumphs of his first two tests. Most men were not so brave, nor so determined, to keep their hearts full of courage and their mind clear. In fact Sebastien had been near close to accepting his fate to float among the river of nothing forever, if that cursed sword hadn't intervened.<br/><br/>That sword....Amund was no stranger to weapons forged from magic. Depending on the components, they could be stronger than even dragon's fire, and were not impervious to the fantastic immortal's hands. His dear friend the phoenix had once taken a string of arrows to his wings and nearly became a prisoner to a foreign queen, forever fated to a cage for the family lineage. Luckily the divine had decided that would not be his fate, and a horse had overturned her in it's collapse in the battle, gracing him with the opportunity to escape. There was a reason he didn't migrate often with his kind.<br/><br/>Still, in his shadow form there had been no way to inspect the weapon that had saved the young prince's life, and he wouldn't unless the prince didn't fall to his death. His ageless instincts told him that such stubbornness would prevent him from succumbing to such a ironic fate. No...there was a purpose for him, and even if Amund didn't want to admit it, it was somehow tied with himself.<br/><br/>"Hurry, little prince...I'm eager to see you wilt under my flame than let another human succeed over me again."