The Beast Hunters: Chapter Two: The Trial Of Ash
1254 Words
The Beast Hunters
Chapter Two: The Trial of Ash
Word Count: ~1,550 words
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The Hall of Ash and Flame – The Following Morning
John woke in a stone room, damp and cool. He could smell the faint trace of burnt wood in the air, the heavy scent of incense wafting through the chamber. His shoulder throbbed where the Eldest had branded him, the sigil of the Sixteenth Flame seared into his flesh.
He winced but sat up. The memories of the night before flooded back. The trial. The Beast. His awakening.
He was no longer a boy of Agege, a quiet teen on the fringes of the world. He was now a Balogun.
The door creaked open.
Amina stepped inside, her eyes filled with both concern and pride. "How do you feel?"
John shrugged, trying to mask his confusion. "It hurts. But I don't understand. Why me?"
"Because your bloodline is not just of humans. Your father was one of us, and now... so are you. You carry the power of the ancient warriors—the flame of battle and protection that has kept our people safe for centuries. But it’s not easy. Being a Balogun means you carry the weight of many lives on your shoulders.”
“I thought it was a title,” John muttered, rubbing his temples. “Now it’s a curse?”
Amina didn’t answer immediately. She sat beside him. “It’s both. But if you survive the Trials, if you prove yourself, you’ll earn the right to fight the Beasts. And you will never be alone.”
She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at the brand of the Sixteenth Flame. “You’re not ready, John. But they’ll make you ready. Starting now.”
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The Pit of Trial – The Next Day
The sun was barely above the horizon as John was led into the Pit of Trial, a massive arena carved deep into the mountain. The walls were covered with ancient glyphs, and at the far end stood the stone altar where the Baloguns would prove their worth.
John’s heart hammered against his chest. He had no idea what to expect. Last night, he had barely survived a single Beast. Now, it seemed, he was expected to face more.
Amina walked beside him. “You’re not alone in this. Every Balogun has had to face trials before becoming an Elder. This is your first step. Show them you’re more than just a spark.”
He nodded, swallowing his fear. The air felt thicker here, charged with something ancient.
The Eldest stood at the center of the arena, surrounded by the fifteen Baloguns. Okoye the Flame-Spitter gave him a long, judgmental stare, but said nothing. Other Baloguns muttered amongst themselves, watching John closely.
"You will face the trials that have tested all before you," the Eldest said. His voice echoed through the chamber like thunder. "If you survive, you will take your place among us. If you fail..." He paused, his eyes locking with John's. "Then you will be no more."
The ground trembled as the gate to the Pit of Trial slowly creaked open.
The Beast emerged.
It was larger than the one John had faced the night before—its body was a twisted form of shadow, scales that shimmered like the night sky, and glowing eyes that seethed with hunger. Its claws were long and curved, each one capable of ripping through stone.
John took a step back, but Amina’s hand on his arm steadied him.
“Remember what you are,” she whispered.
The Eldest’s voice rang out. “You have thirty seconds before the Beast is upon you. Defend yourself.”
John’s heart pounded. The Beast’s growl filled the arena, vibrating through his bones.
He reached instinctively for his staff, but as he grabbed it, the wood flared into flame—blue fire that seemed to hum with ancient power.
The Beast hissed, and John barely had time to raise his weapon before it lunged.
The clash was brutal.
The Beast’s claws scraped against the staff, and John felt the heat of its fiery breath on his skin. He swung his weapon, the flame dancing from its tip, striking the Beast’s chest with a force that knocked it back.
The crowd of Baloguns roared.
“Strike again!” the Eldest shouted.
John, adrenaline coursing through his veins, swung with all his strength. The staff connected with the Beast’s side, sending it crashing into the ground.
But the Beast wasn’t done. It recovered quickly, its eyes glowing brighter. It roared and leapt at him with terrifying speed.
John could barely react in time. The Beast’s claws grazed his shoulder, ripping through his flesh. He cried out in pain, stumbling back.
But then, something inside him clicked.
The staff in his hand glowed brighter, hotter, and in that moment, John felt the full weight of his bloodline surge through him—an ancient fire that surged up from his core. His heart pounded in his chest, and the flame on the staff blazed with the strength of his ancestors.
He swung again.
This time, the fire exploded from the staff like a wave, engulfing the Beast. It howled in agony, trying to claw its way free from the searing light, but it was no use. The flames tore through its form, reducing it to ash.
John stood panting, his body aching, his hands shaking.
The Eldest stepped forward, his gaze never leaving John. “You have done it.”
John fell to his knees, gasping for breath. “I... I don’t understand. I didn’t even... I didn’t know how I did that.”
The Eldest nodded solemnly. “The flame within you is not meant to be understood—it is meant to be wielded.”
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The Hall of Ash – Evening
That night, after the trial, John was taken back to the Hall of Ash. The fifteen Baloguns gathered around him, watching silently. Some offered quiet nods, others simply stared. Okoye the Flame-Spitter gave him a grudging smile.
Amina stood beside him, her face proud but stern.
The Eldest addressed the room. “John has proven his worth. He has faced the Beast, survived the Trial of Ash, and emerged as a true Balogun.”
The other Baloguns murmured in approval. The fire on John’s staff dimmed, but the sigil on his shoulder burned brighter than ever.
“Tomorrow,” the Eldest continued, “we begin our march. The Beasts are growing restless. They know of the Sixteenth Flame. And they will come for him. But they will find us ready.”
Amina stepped forward, placing her hand on John’s shoulder. “You’re not alone, John. You never were. We fight together.”
John nodded, feeling the weight of his new responsibility settle upon him. But something stirred in his chest—something primal, something fierce. He was no longer the boy who sold phone parts on the streets of Agege. He was Balogun John. And the Beasts would know his name.
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Meanwhile – The Beasts’ Lair
Deep in the heart of the cursed forest, the Beasts gathered, their forms shifting in the moonlight. At the center of the gathering stood a tall figure, his eyes burning with rage.
“They have awakened the Sixteenth Flame,” he hissed. “Prepare for war.”
A howl split the night air as the Beasts prepared to march.
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To be continued in Chapter Three: The Beast’s Wrath
- Writer
