Writer's Games Entries

Task 2: "The Smith"

After battling the knight, Ser Loire, and watching him collapse and fall dead on the ground, the landscape around Aerio started to transform. What had once been a green, majestic meadow filled with knights fighting each other and the blood of the fallen, turned into a red desert. With the redness of the landscape came the heat. It didn't take long for Aerio to feel that heat all over his body. The entire sky was ablaze Aerio noticed. When he turned towards his own surroundings, everybody was gone. The fighting knights and the other champions...gone.

The heat only increased in intensity. The heat managed to lure itself through all of his layers and manifested on his body. The sweat that had already been running down his forehead several times was now turning into steam in a manner of seconds. Aerio felt his throat get drier and drier for every second that passed. All the metal-pieces that Aerio was carrying started to burn his skin through the layers of clothing. Aerio immediately recognized the danger and removed every little piece he had on him, but he didn't feel like it helped.

This extreme climate wasn't something he had a lot of experience with. For the most part of his life, he had lived in humid areas in Braavos or in parts of Westeros consumed by the fresh breeze and the cold winters. Aerio knew early on, as he stripped himself of the weapons and now started removing lighter layers of his clothing, that he preferred the harshness of the cold winds in The North. He would rather have the cold wind that felt like a thousand knives burn his skin than this.

Aerio already had a feeling that this realm was not going to be about physical strength. Maybe it would be to a certain degree, but more than anything, this was about mentality. It was about the ability to take whatever pain the God had planned to inflict him. The heated air made it hard for him to breathe. The black clothing stuck to his skin, causing a burning sensation that Aerio only suspected would get worse. The God of this realm most likely wanted to know for how long Aerio could take it.

Aerio looked down on his hands noticing that they were almost as red as blood. As he pulled up his sleeves, he saw the same thing. Aerio quickly concluded that his entire body was covered in that color. He could feel the same burning sensation on his back as he did on his arms. In a manner of moments, he suspected flames would cover his entire body. He looked across the landscape, noticing how the heatwaves danced across the landscape. Meanwhile, blisters were forming all over his body.

"From the hottest of forges, the most blessed blades are shaped." A voice spoke. It echoed back and forth across the landscape where Aerio was, but he couldn't find the source of it. Though it pained him due to the massive blisters that had now formed on his neck, he turned his head from one side to the other, trying to see if there was anyone there with him. As far as his eyesight could each, he didn't see anyone. He was half-disappointed, but at the same time, he was in the realm of a God. The God could toy with Aerio as much as he or she wanted.

Before Aerio could think further on that voice, flames suddenly erupted from his back. He almost screamed at the sudden sensation of pain that was floating across his skin. The smell of burned flesh and the pain that came with it caught Aerio by surprise. His body was shaking violently due to the shock of the flames and the extreme conditions around him. The flames appeared to just dance across his skin, spreading from his back down his legs, across his arms, past his shoulder.

Aerio fell down to his knees due to the intense pain. His breath turned to a rapider pace and he started to struggle with his eyes. Slowly, but certainly, his sight was turning foggier and foggier for every second that passed. The land he had once seen with such a bright red color, turned darker and darker until he could no longer see anything. His eyeballs were drying up. The heat crippled Aerio more and more. His mobility was constantly reducing for every second that the flames gnawed on his skin.