Trials of Ru

The tale is a simple one, one that happened long ago under the height of an era. About a remarkable individual who walked as an exemplar to everyone, a figure whose every step was remembered as a historical event. I would tell you stories of their exploits, tales of discovery, moments of inventing contraptions of mastery. But no, I won't tell you any of those for this is not the tale of triumph, but a tale of how they failed. Why the height of an era declined, and how a new era was born. A story that ended in tragedy, but opened with a spark of hope. This is the story of an end to a legend, a story of how the Knight failed to gain immortality.

It all began under a gloomy night, the Knight travelled for twelve days and twelve nights without rest. Years before they fought in a crusade as a General, years before that they created the first windmill that took Europe by storm, and just before that discovered an equation which would take humanity to the stars in a few centuries.
They travelled because they heard of a story, a rumour that would reward them for achieving everything a person could achieve. They've slain beasts and champions, conquered distant lands undefeated, created art that put the world in awe, cured the most deadly of diseases, everything that made their name known and respected by all. The Knight travelled for a prize, the prize of immortality.
The villagers gawked as the great Knight arrived at the place they called Journey's Beginning. Some backed away from the famous hero, to not interrupt them during an adventure. They whispered to each other, wondering why such a famous figure was drawn to their humble village. None feared the Knight, as they saw him as a good omen. A saint to the common folk, and a sage to the wise.
With a smile under their helm, the Knight noticed how their inventions helped improve upon the lives of the people of Journey's Beginning. That the village had an apothecary, utilising ingredients and recipes the Knight produced, how the dam saved the people from regular floods, and how they used whale oil lamps that could burn all night long.
The Knight raised her hands to announce their presence to all. 'I came here on a quest! I heard of a legend relating to this area, a myth of how one can obtain immortality.'
An old man approached the Knight, a puppeteer who wore orange goggles. They explained to the Knight the ancient tale, that a week upstream would lead the Knight to a castle with a great spire at the heart of a swamp. He told the Knight about the custodian of the castle, the guardian of and granter of immortality. But warned the Knight of the custodian, that they would only give the gift to those truly worthy, those who are the best among all of humanity.
The puppeteer pleaded to the Knight. 'The watcher of the nameless castle is both wise and treacherous. Their tongue is both sharp as it is venomous, they carry a disingenuous appearance that hides their true strength, and lastly they possess forbidden knowledge. I fear you are not ready to face them, as they are a relic of all that is sinful, and all that is rotten.'
The Knight chuckled, not to mock the elderly man but to reassure them. 'A well-intended fear, one that came from the heart. Yet it is also a mistaken one.'
The Knight pulled out their legendary black sword, its metal forged from the heart of a meteor, tamed with the flame of dragons, and wrought with the hammer of the greatest of smiths. A gift bestowed onto them by craftsmen from all corners of the world. Be it the northern tips of Scandinavia, the southern wonders of Maravi, the eastern beauty of Manchuria, or the western jungles of Maya. The sword had many names, given by friend and foe, but all knew it as Perun.
'This is what I will use!' The Knight pridefully announced. 'This is the blade that carved kingdoms and divided empires. This made me the sister of famed warriors whose names will always be regarded as among the greats. With this blade, it made me a brother of just rulers whose subjects will always know their reign as a new golden era. The custodian of the castle should fear me! For I've faced and beaten every threat known to the world, I've made art that will make even the most cynical of men weep, because of me I ended plagues, and because of me, I've given everyone a chance to have at least a meal once per day. With my blade, I will push through every trial the custodian will throw at me and I will emerge victorious. Which comes with it a promise, a promise to share immortality among all of you and everyone in this world. I will usher in a future! A new era for all to look forward to. To be a woman to melt down the first sword to use as nails to construct the first bridge to utopia, and to be a man to sire heirs who will see suffering as a distant memory. A promise to you a world without fear, but a world of justice and hope.'
The village cheered at the Knight's declaration, hopeful for the future that the Knight could deliver to them. They allowed the Knight to rest for the night and fed them with enough food to make a king's banquet pale in comparison. As a reward for their hospitality, the Knight shared their knowledge to the people of Journey's Beginning that would in the future transform the village into a wealthy city.
At the crack of dawn, the Knight left the town to continue on with their quest for immortality. For a week they travelled with excitement, their heart beat with determination, their breath hummed a rhythm of glory, and their spirit radiated our collective will.

Through the bog, through the toxic wetlands that clamped onto the Knight's armour. To an outsider they would say that the swamp is cursed, that vile magic tainted the land and poisoned the water. Its skies a crimson red, the clouds as black as smoke.
Even the land told the Knight to not continue, to not proceed with their quest. The mud would try to make the Knight sink into the earth, the vines tried to strangle them, the water pushed them down to drown them, and the beast of scales and long snouts did their best to strike down the tenacious hero. Only to be slain as soon as they appeared from the waters.
The swamp was uninviting, its unwelcoming approach only fueled the Knight's resolve. The Knight figured that before the land drowned; it was fertile farmland that fed a once prosperous kingdom. Yet after decades of unstopped rainfall and immense floods, was it finally left abandoned with the only evidence that anyone lived there was the castle at the centre of the swamp. A fortress with vines entangling its granite walls, and its spire that could almost kiss the heavens above.
Even in pure darkness, all would know where the castle is by simply feeling its alluring presence. It drew everyone to it, all for the same reasons. To the Knight, however, believed that they would be the first to enter the castle and walk out of it with their just reward.
At the door of the castle's gate, the Knight knocked three times. The door creaked as it opened for its first quest in a long time. Only to reveal nothing at the other side, not a single soul. The courtyard dead and withered, the glass fogged, and the stone chipped. What the Knight noticed inside the walls of the castle, is a different world, dried up and neglected even by its supposed caretaker.
Frustrated, the Knight rested a hand on the hilt of their sword. 'I am here! I came for my eternal reward, what I am entitled to.' The Knight announced, making their presence known but still prepared to leap into action if it is required for them to do so.
Silence filled the air, the creatures of the swamp even kept quiet while the Knight took their stance. It was as if the world held its breath for the Knight to stay focused. With a loud clunk, the iron door of the castle opened. A figure stepped out and towards the Knight. They are lanky, their arms are so long they could reach the ground, the fingers disfigured and hook like, its skin is black and rotten like it was frostbitten. The face of the custodian is formless, no eyes, ears, mouth or nose, not even hair. Like its features are the scratched textures of a chalkboard. Their naked body is frail, their ribs and organs easily defined through their skin. Yet from a quick glance, the Knight noticed how the creature is missing a single rib-bone. The custodian wore little, having only a long red and black skirt that hid the lower portion of their body.
Seeing the custodian as an unholy monstrosity, an abomination and a mockery to the human form. The Knight drew their sword and aimed it at what they presumed is roadblock between them and greatness.
'What do you seek?' The custodian spoke in an angelic feminine tone.
The Knight kept their stance, eyeing the custodian. 'I seek for what the castle holds, the path to immortality! I've adventured through every part of the world, I saw wonders that people couldn't even imagine. Through scorching sands, great plains, and the vastness of the seven seas. I saw it all! All of it to get here, to take what I require.'
The custodian shook their head, 'this place holds what you all desire. You are not the first to come here, oh brave Knight. Nor will you be the last to set foot on these swamps. Most died on their way to my castle, their pilgrimage concluding before their eyes could even lay on the spire. The rest failed here, either in the swamp or inside the spire itself.'
'And I am here! To achieve what no other has done before, to be the first among many to defeat our mortality.' The Knight proclaimed while they ready themselves for a duel.
The Custodian raised their hands, to signal the Knight that they are no threat. Nor would they be to the Knight. 'I am Ru, the custodian of the spire. What you seek is a fantasy that will not be given freely, the path to immortality could only be for those who are proven worthy. Those who are truly enlightened.' Ru stretched her left hand out, her four fingers scraped against the stone. 'To get what you desire, you must face my trials, then may you earn immortality. I will test who you are, to see what will make one such as you capable to not just have immortality but to walk the earth undisturbed by death until the last star burns its last light. With that, are you still willing to enter my castle and rise to the challenge the spire will have for you?'
The Knight holstered their blade and approached Ru. 'How can I be sure that this isn't a trick? A ploy to lower my guard, or a trap made by the wicked! How can I trust the trials are both fair and true to their word?'
Ru offered her left hand to the Knight, 'what I can only offer is my word. But I can tell my word alone is not good enough, nor can I blame you for your lack of trust. So, I give you a part of me, to show my good faith. Take my ring finger, rip it from my hand and use it as you will. That is my way of showing that it is no ruse.'
'I understand,' said the Knight with a cordial nod towards the figure, and with a gentle pull Ru's finger detached from her hand. Out of respect to the custodian, the Knight pocketed the finger.
With a welcoming gesture and a bow, Ru escorted the Knight into their castle and guided them to the first floor of the spire. To begin the first trial that the Knight shall face.

Ru opened the door for the Knight, they looked inside to see a vast empty sunken room. The Knight scanned the area, but was unable to notice anything except pure darkness.
'What trial does this room offer?' The Knight asked.
Ru entered the room to illustrate to the Knight that the room was perfectly safe. 'That is for you to find out on your own, the room will offer you a challenge befitting for a Knight.'
'The room is dark as it is dangerous. Is there a way for me to have light or a way to follow a path to not get lost?'
Ru closed her hands before reaching them out to the Knight. 'I'll offer you something that'll aid you, it'll guide you to where you need to go. I'll meet you on the other side of the room if you survive this trial.' She opened her hands to reveal a rusted lantern, its orange flames burned brightly.
The Knight took the lantern and thanked the custodian, heading into the darkness to face their first test. The moment they disappeared into the void was the moment everything changed for them. Besides the orange light of their rusted lantern illuminating their path, they are now truly alone. Even when the Knight stood still, they felt as if they were floating. In a world of pure nothingness, that not even their breath could be heard. So, the Knight pushed forward, with no guide or a way to navigate themselves except for their faith in finding the exit.
When the Knight heard a muffled voice, they stopped in their tracks. 'Who goes there?' The Knight shouted, they waited with their sword hand resting on the hilt for a response from anyone or anything.
It didn't take long for a stranger to reply. 'I do!' They announced as they walked into the light of the lantern. A young man that was hunched over, wearing a gambeson, and a darkened leather cap. The man looked malnourished, their cheeks and eyes sunken into their skull.
The man probed the Knight with their head tilted to the right. 'What brought you here?' He said as they aimed their broadsword at the Knight.
Feeling uneasy, the Knight put their lantern down while they kept an eye on the man. 'I came to gain immortality. Its reward is my birthright.'
'No! It is no ones.' The man replied, afterwards they eyed the Knight's satchel. 'That! You got coin and food, yes?' The Knight nodded to the man in confirmation. 'I want that, give it here!' He raised his sword, a threat to end the Knight's story.
Threatened, the Knight unsheathed Perun while they took a defensive stance.
Agitated, the man yelled at the Knight to give it up. They hurled insults, profanity, and even cursed the Knight and their family. They hoped the Knight would give it up freely, to avoid a pointless duel. But the Knight didn't falter, they stood their ground while they examined the man's stance and handling of their own blade. With every syllable uttered, is a second the Knight used to study their opponent.
The man later figured that words couldn't make the Knight give him what he needed to survive, nor would his threats work. He felt they had no choice on the matter, but if it was a matter of life or death. The man chose himself to survive for another day.
Without warning, the man lunged at the Knight. With a thrust of their sword, the man aimed at the Knight's chest to end the fight as quickly as possible. But the Knight's moves were smooth and methodical, as calculated as it was ruthless. The Knight parried the man and sliced his throat open with the black blade.
Shocked, the man fell to the ground while they tried to grasp their last gulp of air. Meanwhile, the Knight cleaned their blade with a white rag made of silk. It didn't take long for the man to die with their arms stretched out, his blood gushed out of their body. However, what surprised the Knight was the volume of blood.
Slowly the floor of the room filled with crimson red. The blood only stopped flowing once it was ankle high.
But from the depths, a marble statue of the Virgin Mary emerged. Blood parted away from its form to not stain the holy figure. With her arms reached out, they picked the man's body up to hold him like a stillborn child.
The Knight picked the lantern up to examine the statue, to notice tears trickling from its well-sculpted face.
The Knight shrugged as they moved on. Searching their way out of the room, the pool of blood sloshed with every step they took. The blood of one man mistaken for the blood of millions, the blood of the unfortunate painted the floor and the boots of the individual who slew the impoverished.
With a sigh of relief, the Knight found the staircase leading up to the next floor with Ru standing next to it. 'I've beaten your trial, I've killed the man who threatened me. What's next? What other sick game do you have for me?' The Knight demanded.
Ru looked at the pool of blood before they gave an upsetting sigh. 'Tell me, oh brave Knight. Why did you kill him? What purpose do you have to slay a man such as he?'
'He threatened me with his own blade and demanded my possessions for himself. I could not allow that to be.'
'Even if the man was desperate? What if the man was searching for immortality like you?'
The Knight paused, retelling themselves the events that transpired. 'If they desired help, wanted aid from a stranger. A threat will not be the way, I responded as any person should. To defend oneself when it was required, and because of that I followed my duty. Even if I refuse to give them aid, it should be respected and nothing more. As for immortality, that doesn't matter. Not to me at least.'
'It matters to me,' Ru responded.
The Knight blew out the lantern's flame. 'Why should it?'
Ru gestures to the room of blood that the Knight caused. 'Because you all fear your own mortality, you all desire a life that is easy and without suffering. You all walk as if you know better and if you are ready for something that isn't there, an illusion of lies that you are all comfortable with.'
The Knight glared at the pool of blood once more, thinking of the words that the custodian had spoken. Though they shook it off and concluded that they are different. 'Those who came before were ill-prepared. They believed in the lies that they forged for themselves. What I seek is something different, a prize that all deserve. Immortality belongs to not one but all, and I can make that happen.'
'All had said that as well, oh brave Knight.' Ru gestured the Knight to follow them to the next floor, the next trial that the Knight shall face.

Ru opened the door to the second floor, revealing an open barley field with a town in the distance. The place looked calm and blissful. From a cloudless sky the sun shined down, the water of the river sparkled, and the grass was as green as ever. The Knight pondered, confused about how a small world could fit inside the spire.
Determined, the Knight stepped forward into an unfamiliar realm. One that is made of smoke and mirrors, but one that is still made to test them. Be it dangerous or not, they knew it was to be dealt with head-on.
Ru halted the Knight with one hand on their shoulder. 'Beyond lays a people in turmoil, they are struggling to keep grain in their possession. Robbed by those who too are struggling themselves, but for a different reason. How you helped them, if you choose to will open the next door. Like before, I will wait for you on the other side.'
The Knight gave the custodian a nod before they marched to the town. There the people welcomed them, not with a cheer or praise. But welcomed by begs and pleads. They knew the Knight's reputation, and they wanted the Knight to be their saviour. They explained to the Knight why the town next to them was stealing their grain. Apparently the town not so far from them was facing a famine and resorted to banditry to survive. Others mentioned to the Knight how it never rained where they lived, and believed that it must be divine punishment, because the whole town had sinned.
Heard enough, the Knight raised their hand to silence the crowd. 'You are all scared! That I can understand from your tone and need for aid. Aid which I will provide, but for me to help I will need to know how the town defends itself.'
The town brought out their weapons, all of them are farm tools. Hammers, scythes, and shovels are not good to defend against raids. A fact the Knight knew well, and they also knew that traditional weapons could not help the people of the town. Swords take time to train with, spears work best in formations, and bows could be only used by the strongest amongst the townsfolk. What the people need is a new wonder weapon, one that could take no time to train with, that could work alone or as a team, and that the weakest could use.
The Knight ordered the usage of the workshop, and with glee the blacksmith fired their forge and readied the metals and woods for the Knight. For six days, the Knight designed, planned, and developed a new weapon. One that used every element of the world, one that would need a good balance to work effectively. What the Knight would make won't just be used for defence, but hunting as well. A tool for the people, the soldier, and the hunter.
On the seventh day, the Knight brought the people together for their presentation. The town looked confused as the Knight raised a musket above their head. 'Here I show the new weapon, one that would bring the end of war. I combined the elements of fire, earth, wind, and blood. This is a weapon that will spit fire and spew metal, it will strike the enemy from afar, and may its roar bring fear to all who dare oppose you. With this, I promise that in the future all war will go extinct, and may our young inherit a world without rivalry.' The Knight pulled the trigger, and with a thunderous bang, the people fell on their knees.
Awestrucked and horrified, the people thanked the Knight for their invention. For they knew it was the day that their homes were forever safe from those willing to take from their labour.
They clapped for the Knight, cheered them on as they called them a hero. The Knight closed their eyes as their achievement rang through their ears. For they knew that they didn't just made a remarkable invention, but they had discovered the utilities of thermal energy.
Yet they opened their eyes to a different world, one that is dark and engulfed in fire. The flames illuminated the night sky. The houses were blown to bits, the grass charred, and where the road used to be had become a soup of mud and gravel. Feeling endangered, the Knight drew their sword.
The Knight turned around, as the clock tower of the church struck on the eleventh hour and on the eleventh minute. On the church doors was a sign, on it was a date without a year. The eleventh month on the eleventh day. That was left written.
The Knight looked up as the sky whistled, there they saw birds whose wings never flapped. They dropped tears of metal, it too whistled as they fell from the sky. As they kissed the ground, the earth ruptured. Fire and rock erupted into the air, its flames and dirt encircled and danced around the Knight.
But there was a boy amongst the chaos, a young kid who raised their finger to their lips to tell the Knight to be silent. The Knight copied their gesture while the tears of metal rained around them. The boy stood next to the Knight as they both watched the church crumble to rubble and ruin.
With an offer of a hand from the boy, the Knight took it. In a flash they arrived in a desert, the land of sand and scorching sun, unkind to the Knight in their reflective armour. The boy and the Knight looked to their right, they faced a skeletal tower. Inside the iron cage was a black sphere of wires and riveted metal.
In a blinding flash, the sphere detonated. A shockwave cracked the world around it, the heat melted sand to glass and burned shadows of the dead into stone, and debris rained back down to the surface flattening anything it touched. All of it is followed by a cloud shaped like a tree on fire with a ring around its trunk.
The Knight blinked again, a blink that returned them to a familiar world. One that they knew was real, but also one that they knew that is the end of the trial.
Ru stood by the door that led to the next floor and looked at the Knight with an inquisitive gaze. 'You gave the people a weapon like no other, you gave them the tools that ended the threat for good. Tell me, why did you give them a weapon of such destruction and indiscriminate hate?'
The Knight paused before they put their sword back into their scabbard. 'I gave them the tool to deal with their own quagmire, how they use it was up to them. In the end, I should not influence how their problems should come to an end. For it is they who lived with them, and it should be they who find an answer that is befitting.'
'You gave them a wonder weapon that you promised could end all wars, did you believe that?' Ru rebutted.
'I did, but it seemed I misjudged.'
The custodian shook their head, 'all who claim to create weapons to end all wars are always doomed to give birth to a new era of murder. The musket will change, to be something that would at first kill one man at a time, till one day kill hundreds in a second.'
The Knight frowned. 'So I should be punished for creating such tools? To be punished by the future who builds upon my work?'
'No,' Ru replied. 'You should be more cautious to claim that a weapon of today will bring an end to the conflict of tomorrow. To create new methods of killing is to not bring an end to it, but perpetuate the cycle of violence.'
At first, they disagreed, but seeing what the custodian meant the Knight conceded. To their surprise, Ru opened the door for the Knight and gestured for them to walk inside. To face their final trial.

The door to the third floor opened. Inside were three display stands with curtains covering the contents inside. Ru walked to the centre of the three displays and gestured for the Knight to come to them. 'You face your final task, your last trial. Here you must not act, build, discover, or fight. Instead, what I need is your heart, your words on what is in front of you.'
The Knight approached the custodian, grateful that their road to immortality was about to end. 'Then show me what I need to see, allow me to observe so my words can freely flow.'
Following their request, Ru pulled a thread that dropped the curtain of the first display. On the display stood a painting of a canvas with an all-white background but with an off-blue line at the centre. The Knight examined the piece, confused about what it represented, and the meaning behind the form. The Knight concluded that the pigment of the blue must have been newly invented, and that the artist used a new combination of hard to obtain colours to create something for that piece. What they also could tell, is that it was impossible to see any brushstrokes. The Knight knew it was indeed a painting, the aroma was evident, but they had to admire that the skill to paint something without any evidence of a brush being used was a feat only the greats could pull off.
'So you saw the painting, tell me oh Knight. What do you see? Tell me what you feel.' Ru said to the Knight.
The Knight pondered, struggling to come up with an answer. 'The piece is well crafted, there is skill in its creation. But it has no meaning behind it, no value can be added to it outside of the skills in its creation. On the surface it is meaningless, and even with the context of its creation it carries no value for the observer.'
Ru nodded to the Knight, acknowledging their answer. She pulled on the next thread to reveal the second art piece. It was a sculpture of the pyramid of marble teeth stacked upon each other. The Knight examined the abstract piece, confused about what it was trying to say. From a glance, the Knight could appreciate the skill in creating the pyramid of teeth as it looked as if each tooth was individually made and glued together. But the Knight saw that it was not the case, that the illusion of each individual tooth was all connected as one structure. Crafted with perfect synergy and precision. The Knight was amazed, impressed that one such as gifted could make a near-hollow pyramid with human teeth as its foundation.
Ru gestured to the pyramid, 'the question I will ask will be the same as before. What do you see, how do you feel about it?'
The Knight shook their head, annoyed as they couldn't figure out what the sculpture was. 'It is like the painting, the creation of it is masterful. The message and the meaning is left to be desired. What I see is the stacking of human teeth, a practical joke of what art is. Its value is what you can see, there is nothing else to review from this piece of art.'
'An interesting observation from an interesting Knight.' Ru responded.
The custodian reached for the last thread and pulled it, revealing the last piece. One that angered the Knight. On display was a mirror made of silver. The Knight turned to face the custodian, but she disappeared to only be replaced by a mirror where she once stood.
Before the Knight could react, they were surrounded by mirrors on all sides. The reflection of the Knight duplicated at every angle, each image a near-perfect impression. Near each reflection is another duplicate, and with that duplicate another reflection. A near-infinite spiral behind a wall of glass and a green tinge.
Yet, there was a deviation. How each reflection stood, their posture more different from the last. The Knight turned their head to the left, and to the confusion of the Knight their reflection didn't look back at them. Instead, it looked away, facing their left instead of their right. As if the Knight was not looking at a mirror, but a window to how the world looked behind them.
The Knight faced forward, reaching their hand out to touch the glass. Like water it formed around the Knight's hand, distorting to sliver around their fingers, warm to the touch. The Knight took a step into the sea of mirrors, to emerge into a world of grey. They stood in a concrete room, its cold walls felt both hostile and sterile to the Knight. On the floor is a yellow line that divided the endless tunnel.
But for some odd reason, the Knight knew its purpose. The line is a divider, showing a path where people are allowed to walk if they were heading somewhere. The Knight walked on the left side of the path and walked in the only direction they could. Forward.
The metal of the Knight's boots clanked against the hard concrete surface. The rattle of their platted armour artificially echoed. But the Knight knew they could not walk forever, so they stopped. Trying to figure out the purpose of the trial, why they are thrusted into a strange tunnel.
So they pondered and wondered if there was a purpose to the madness of the third trial. 'No, there isn't any.' The Knight said to themselves as they walked into the wall with their eyes closed.
'You have witnessed the last piece, saw what I have left to offer. Tell me, oh brave Knight. What did you see, and how did you feel?' Ru said as the Knight opened their eyes. To return to the world of the material.
The Knight stood with pride, to them they knew the test, and trials were all over. 'It is an illustration of madness, a meaningless contraption of ideas and illusions. One that tried to best me, one that also failed to impress me.'
'So tell me, what does this purpose have to be? Should art have meaning?'
The Knight scoffed at the custodian. 'All art needs meaning, for all art needs to function within society. The artist needs to have the skills to convey a message, an idea they desire to share. Art without meaning, art without message, or art without purpose. Is art that has no use serving the people of today. Instead, it is a disease that will harm the intelligence of us all.'
Ru paused with a broken glare, one that the Knight thought was a glare of defeat. One that they smirked as they believed the custodian was finally beaten by the best among humanity.
With a theatrical wave of a hand, the custodian opened the door for the Knight to the next floor of the Spire. 'It is over, oh brave Knight. You may proceed to the last floor of the spire. To finally witness the truth of what awaits you.'

The Knight was ready to receive their gift of immortality. There the Knight walked to the centre of the auditorium, facing out to an audience that was never there. The last room of the spire, but it won't be the first time they may enter it.
'Here I stand, a conductor without a witness. A shame others will not have the chance to watch history unfold.' The Knight faced the custodian, expecting the eternal award. 'I am ready, give me what I deserve.'
Ru stood there and did nothing. No wave of their hand, no showing of an artefact, nothing.
The Knight wanted to speak, but the custodian cut them off. 'What you see is the truth, there is nothing. The truth of immortality is there is no such thing. A myth you all made up to fight off your eventual demise, an ideal to conquer the unconquerable. You crave for the heart of life, yet refuse to face the spirit of death. You chased a myth, one that could never come to be.'
'So you tricked me! Forced me to face your trials for a prize that was never there.'
'Not tricked,' Ru responded. 'I wanted to prove to you a point, to test you on your worthiness for immortality. To not test your greatness but your humanity.'
The Knight drew their blade and aimed it at the custodian. 'I've proven my worthiness tenfold! I became the mother of righteous kings and the father of everlasting queens. I gave the world heirs to lead when the time comes. I gave my heart to princesses and my love to the common man. Yet you are saying my humanity is not worthy? I broke peace to wars that lasted for centuries and built bridges that brought prosperity. I stood and fought for the innocent. I brought order to lawless and chaotic lands. Yet you still say my humanity isn't worthy? I deserve this prize, even if it was never there, I still earned it.'
Ru shook their head, heartbroken by what the Knight said. 'No, oh brave Knight. There is more to humanity than you believe. Even if I could give you immortality, could you really believe I would provide such a gift for one such as you? For you are stuck with one perspective, one lived experience that shaped who you are today. While the answers you provided throughout your trials are correct, they also proved to me the flaw of who you are. A core of your being, that is unworthy of immortality.'
The Knight lowered their blade, unsure what the custodian meant. 'How could one have the right answers and still be wrong? How could one such as you justify this unfairness?'
'Because it was never about the answer, but how you come up with the answer. The reasons you provide for each of them. With the man, who threatened you with his blade. Did you believe striking him down was the only option?'
The Knight shrugged, 'no, but it was the most logical.'
'Was it?' Ru summoned the man on stage. Still and as lifeless as a statue. 'You could help him, give him time to explain themselves. They were in distress and frightened, yet you cut them down because they stood in your way. With irrationality mixed with desperation will create a cocktail of foolish decisions. You could talk them down, your words capable of disarming them. Yet, you slew them. You lived a life as a soldier, and because of that you only viewed the situation as one. Thus, you will only create a world of tyranny.'
Ru summoned the musket on a display stand. 'The people wanted help, they told you how the other village turned to raiding to survive. Yet besides helping both at once, you gave them a weapon to destroy the people who also needed help. You could give the tools to the village who are suffering to help rebuild, to turn them away from a life of violence. However, for the people who are not soldiers, you gave them the means to enact horrors. The solution you gave is one where the world is destined to end itself.'
Lastly, the custodian summoned the mirror. 'You proclaimed that art needs meaning, that without a purpose that fits within society, it has no place in this world. Yet art doesn't just serve a function, art can be more than just meaning and what it says. It can be an experience, one where people can feel without knowing what it means. Because of your view, you will only create a world without joy.'
The Knight paused and wondered what is the correct way to approach the trials. 'So, tell me, what is right? Should I provide a man with kindness and mercy? Should I build a well for the people without rain? Should I just experience art at face value?'
'No, doing the opposite is not the answer. What you need is an equilibrium with your core. To connect with not just your experience, but the experiences of all. What made you unworthy is because you only viewed the world with your own lens.'
Defeated, the Knight sighed. 'Then I will seek immortality elsewhere. I will erect monuments of me, I will preserve every text about me. For my mortal shell will fail, my legacy will be forever alive.'
'You are also a scholar, oh Knight. Yet you never figured out who I am.' Ru pointed to the man, the musket, and the mirror. 'Like you I was great, I too cured plagues and built wonders. Yet unlike you, I was a peacemaker, I taught love and never picked up a weapon. Like you, I sought immortality and like you, I failed these trials.'
Ru gestured to the man. 'When he came to me, the first thing I did was serve the needs of the man. I gave him my possessions so they may survive. The previous custodian told me that because of my unchecked kindness, I've opened my heart to strangers who didn't deserve it. Because of me, I've created a world of submission.'
Ru gestured to the musket. 'When I came to the village, I knew both needed help. That to save one is to help the other. So, I created the aqueduct to clench the thirst of the people. Yet I never solved the underlying issues of either village, all I did was fix a surface-level problem that both are facing. I was blind to the fact that the quick transition to banditry was an inherent flaw of that village and that if more problems came their way, besides fixing them they would rather take from others or wait for strangers to fix it for them. Because of me, I've created a world destined to be exploited by others.'
Lastly, Ru gestured to the mirror. 'I always believed art doesn't need to serve a purpose, that the human experience is all that is needed to give all of us meaning. Yet I was foolish to see that art has a dual purpose, not just to make us feel but to also tell us something. If all art is made to make us feel, then even signs that give us a warning of danger become nonfunctional. Because of me, I've created a world of hollow expression.'
'If you were also a great like me, one who also came here for immortality. How come I never heard of you?' The Knight asked.
'Because all forms of immortality is a myth. You will be forgotten, and all that remains is not your legacy but an idea of what you were. All things will crumble to dust and fade away with the sands of time. The hardest of stone will erode by the simple drops of water, all documents will rot and their knowledge forgotten, our stories shall wither into memory. Even how we looked will be muddled. While it may be the last to stand, the idea of what we are will die when a newer idea takes its place.'
The Knight held their sword, its black blade felt cold to the touch. 'All I had done, all that I've achieved. It all seems worthless! What is the point of doing anything if all of it will be forgotten? Why should I continue when there is no reward to it?'
Ru rested her hand on top of the Knight's sword. 'Does every action we take need to be rewarded? Should anything have a purpose? We are all limited by who we are, and what makes us human. You are the example of us all for today, but tomorrow you will be replaced. While we are limited by what we experienced in our short lives, we can always build a future for our children. They will forget us, they will step on our bones without a thought, they will destroy our places of worship to build something mundane on its corpse. But we can always give them the means to build upon our mistakes and flaws. To find enlightenment when we could not, that is what we should strive for.'
The Knight realised why they failed, that the quest for immortality was a failure and just a naïve dream. They never thanked the custodian without their own words. Instead, they returned the ring finger to the custodian, rejoining the finger like a husband putting a ring on their bride.

As years passed, the Knight stayed alongside Ru until they died, their body failing as their final years came to a close. Their soul reunited with the earth when the Knight took them to their resting place. However, this leaves the once Knight to be the new custodian of the castle and the spire. One the Knight took with pride as well as shame.
Over time, the Custodian cast their armour aside while they set their colours aflame. All that would remain would be their helm, which would find its resting place at the centre of the castle's scriptorium. A place for the Custodian would forever write, alone without a single eye to witness their creativity or the knowledge they would preserve until the next guardian would come and relieve them of their duty.
For their sword, they walked to the highest point of a lonesome mountain; they drove their blade into the peak and snapped the hilt from the blade. There they head back to the castle, retiring the blade of Perun.
But time at the castle changed their body as well, their skin darkened, their fingers deformed and elongated, the features on their face scratched away like chiselled stone.
They stayed for a year, and the world wondered where the Custodian was. They stayed for a decade, and the world thought the Custodian had perished. They stayed for a century, and the world remembered the idea of the knight.
But the world changed during their absence, it stagnated and grew cold. For the people were accustomed to the knight and wished for their return only for them to be left disappointed and heartbroken. However, the Custodian knew that they must stay to look after the spire as its guardian angel. So, the world suffered and became cruel. A great had disappeared during the search for immortality, a quest all assumed the Custodian would succeed but in reality, failed.
Though to the Custodian, while immortality was never true. They never saw their quest as a failure, but as a chance for others to emanate so they could avoid the shortcomings of their past mistakes. To see what they saw, to learn what they had to go through. That while immortality will never be obtained, be it from a mortal sense or a spiritual one. Enlightenment could, or so the Custodian believed.
But after over a century of service to the spire. During an important night of christmas, the Custodian left the castle for the first time and walked to a stream. Their long black hair touched their heels, their white cloak unsoiled by the swamp.
When they arrived, the Custodian kneeled with their knife drawn. They dug their blade into their chest, and with a lever of their metal, they snapped a rib bone off.
After cauterising the wound, the Custodian moulded clay around the rib. Once it took shape, they breathed life into its lungs. The baby cried as the light of the sun kissed their cheeks.
The Custodian soothed the child with their fatherly love, and like a caring mother they nursed the child. For they have a purpose to fulfil, a chance to aid humanity. Placed in a basket with three items, a blanket to keep them warm, a lavender to keep their heart calmed, and the broken handle of Perun to remind them of their legacy.
After the Custodian kissed their babe on the forehead to say their first and final goodbyes, they put the basket in the river. Flowing down the river might be a new great, one that could change the world. But during the ride, the cradle hit a rock, and an item flew out. Though the Custodian was not sure what fell off, either it could be the handle, flower, cloth, or future. But the Custodian knew it was always up for the chaotic stream of the river to decide, so they turned back and returned to the castle to continue their service for the remainder of their days.
For seven days and seven nights, the basket continued downstream, its path undisturbed by the world around it. Until it flowed onto the arms of a lonesome farmer. A resident of an isolated house far from all, that provided food for the city of Journey's Beginning.