The dream starts with a man I had never seen before. It wasn’t Whisper. “There is another Path. The long Path that involves dedication, work, and time. In many ways, it is more difficult that Whisper’s Paths.”

  Raylin sat down heavily on the chair in his cottage. He was just informed that his beloved wife died giving birth to his baby son. The baby boy died shortly after the mother. Raylin sat there stunned. How could this be possible, he thought to himself. I lived an honest life. I paid my tithe, my taxes, and helped my neighbors. She was all I had in this world. All I had.

  Raylin knew his neighbors would come by soon and check up on him. He didn’t think he could handle that today. He decided the best thing was to go for a walk. He stepped out of his house and went into his little smithy. He was the village’s blacksmith. He was well built and could have been an adventurer or soldier, but was a kind man and didn’t want that type of life. His quiet life as a blacksmith suited him well. Until today.

  Raylin grabbed his biggest hammer and some knives he just finished making, then turned around and walked out of his little town. He walked into the Dead Woods. A forest named because of the high number of mysteriously dead trees and because people that ventured deep into the forest did not return. The land was fertile and there was plenty of water, so there wasn’t a good reason for the trees to be dead. Healthy living trees also abounded in the Dead Woods, so it wasn’t a disease. Raylin didn’t care why the trees were dead, he just wanted to walk, to get away.

  After walking for hours, Raylin came across a cave. Caves usually housed animals or monsters. Raylin didn’t care if the cave was empty or not and went inside. The front of the cave was well lit with sunlight streaming inside, but the back was very dark. Raylin went further into the cave and continued into the dark. After a while, his eyes adjusted and he could barely make out a path. He followed the path even further into the cave. He continued for a long time. The inside of the cave started to get a little brighter. Raylin thought it must be a tunnel, rather than a cave as it got brighter and brighter. Finally, he came upon a small alter with a glowing stone.

  The glowing stone was emitting the light. It was a soft glow, so it didn’t hurt his eyes as he gazed into it. The stone was sitting on a ledge in the middle of the alter. It looked as if the alter was built to hold the stone. Below the stone was a plaque with writing on it. Raylin had never learned to read, so he couldn’t understand the warning the plaque contained. He reached out to touch the glowing stone. His fingers grazed the stone.

  Raylin woke up outside flat on his back in the Dead Forest. It was early morning. The last thing he remembered was trying to touch the glowing stone, then waking up just now.

  There was a notification flag flashing in his vision. He rarely got notifications as a blacksmith. He only got them when he leveled his profession, and that wasn’t very often. You don’t get a lot of essence repairing farming instruments. He opened his notification.

  Congratulations, you have under gone a Race Change. Your new race is Nephilim. As part of the Race Change, all vileness was purged from your body. Your body is now pure and pristine. Changing Race is always a painful process, both physically and mentally.

  Nephilim is a half-ascended state. You are neither mortal nor immortal. You will not age, and will forever remain in peak health. However, unlike true immortals, you can be killed. Nephilim’s physical and mental stats are much higher than normal humans, so you can expect to become stronger and smarter.

  Path of Ascension: As a Nephilim, you are on the Path of Ascension. True immortality awaits, through a centuries long struggle of improvement. Good luck.

  That didn’t make any sense to him. What is a Nephilim? What is ascended? He was unaware of those words. He like the part about being healthy and becoming stronger and smarter, but the rest didn’t make a lot of sense to him.

  He picked himself up and headed back to the village. He went home. Nothing had changed. He decided to bury his wife and son in the local graveyard. The whole village turned out to put them to rest. After the three-day mourning period, Raylin returned to work at his smithy. He noticed that the work seemed to be easier than before, but paid it no special thought. He entered a daily routine and time passed.

  *----------------*

  It had been ten years since his wife and son had died. Raylin worked from sun up to sun down, nine of the tenday. On the tenth day, he went into the woods alone. He barely ate, barely slept, yet he was incredible strong and healthy. He wasn’t very social and never went drinking with the local men. His one social interaction outside of the smithy was learning to read and write. He would go once a tenday to the village chief for a lesson. After a few years, he became quite proficient.

  He worked on his craft. His blacksmithing improved to levels never dreamed of in the small village. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t fix. Nothing he couldn’t improve upon. The village was lucky to have him and everyone knew it. But that didn’t stop the rumors.

  In the 10 years since that night in the Forest, and Raylin hadn’t aged a day. It took a while for anyone to notice, as he was always covered in smoot from the forge. But once they did notice, the rumors started.

  Megie was a good-looking young woman, who once had her sites on marrying Raylin. Unfortunately for her, he wasn’t interested. It’s not so much that he publicly rebuffed her advances, as ignored them. He would just walk away, like he didn’t notice. She ended up marrying the son of the village chief. From her new position, she started many rumors about Raylin. At first, they were disregarded, but as the years went on, they gained followers.

  Raylin had been getting side-eyed for years now. He had enough. Twelve years was enough time for him to truly believe he would always be young. His one-time friends were all getting older and he stayed the same. The village abounded with rumors about him, and people stopped coming to his smithy unless absolutely necessary. That was okay with him, because he could work on harder projects to improve his blacksmithing.

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  When he reached level 35 in his profession, he decided it was time to leave. The rumors were getting darker and violence was the next step. He would leave before it reached that. He packed up everything he had into his storage bag. A magic bag that could carry a ton of weight. He bought it from a travelling merchant that visited the village once a year. It cost him almost all of his money, but now it was worth it.

  In the middle of the night, he left. He walked into the Dead Forest and continued until dawn. He was quite familiar with the Dead Forest around the village, since he spent every tenth day there. He always went looking for the cave, but never found it. It was as if it disappeared. At dawn, he came to the limit of the Dead Forest as he knew it. Beyond was unknown and dangerous. He knew it but didn’t care. There would be another village or town beyond the forest.

  Three months later, Raylin looked down from the mountain and saw a small valley. Pristine and untouched, it was beautiful. A small lake at one end with a river running through the middle. It was a perfect spot to set up his new life. He would dedicate the next years to becoming the best blacksmith the world had ever seen. That was his new goal.

  *----------------*

  Thirty years passed before another human came into the valley. It was an adventuring party hunting a wyvern. The wyvern had attacked a small village and killed everyone. The party was hired to find it and kill it. They had tracked it to this valley. As they approached Raylin’s house, they purposely made a lot of noise. They called out to anyone who might hear them. They didn’t want to surprise anyone, so they made sure they were heard. Many an adventurer had died because of surprise, and they didn’t want to join that group.

  Raylin met them near his garden. They exchanged greetings and names. They explained why they were here and didn’t mean to trespass if this was his land. Raylin showed them the wyvern corpse. It had attacked him, and he defended himself, he told the group. During their discussion, he noticed that some of their equipment was in need of repair, so he offered to do it. They readily agreed, since it would be a while before they hit town, and their equipment needed it. He led them into his smithy. They were amazed to find such excellent quality of weapons, shields and armor. Raylin ended up selling them some of his older weapons and armor. It was still much better than they had. He asked them to stay for dinner, which they gladly accepted. They were used to travel rations, so they enjoyed his cooking. They left the first thing in the morning. It was a very nice visit, Raylin thought. He went back to his smithing.

  Raylin enjoyed his life immensely. He had raised his smithing to level 60, an unheard-of level. He had tamed the valley years ago. There were farm plots, and a nearby mine. These provided everything he needed. He had found a way to stop the terrible visions years ago. He lived a peaceful life.

  People came to buy his ware. Not very often, maybe once a year. He’d made it known that he would only sell during the month of the summer solstice. For those that didn’t come during that month, he refused to sell them anything. For those who tried to take his wares, their end was swift. Raylin could and did protect his property. Somehow the word got out, and people stopped coming anytime other than the aforementioned month. Years came and went.

  *----------------*

  She showed up in the middle of winter. Raylin knew the second she entered his valley. His domain encompassed the entire valley. He knew she was there. The author of his visions. A creature of violence and destruction. She was called my many the Goddess of the Nephilim, but Raylin knew her by another name, Whisper of the Seven Stars. She was the self-appointed guide of all Nephilim. Instructing them in the Paths they needed to take in order to ascend. To defy her was to invite death, to follow her was to invite violence into your heart. Raylin knew which he chose.

  He marched out to meet Whisper by the river.

  “Whisper of my nightmares, why are you in my valley?” Raylin demanded. Goddess or not, Raylin would not accede to her demands.

  “I am here to guide you in the ways of the Nephilim, Raylin the Legendary Blacksmith.”

  “I do not need nor want your guidance. Your ways of violence are not for me. My Path is my art. Leave this valley.”

  “Oh, I cannot allow that, blacksmith. You will either accept the path I give you or die.” Whisper said with a sneer.

  Raylin’s armor flowed around him, covering him in a mysterious metal. He pulled out his sword, Godkiller and made ready. “Come at me if you wish, but I am no easy meat for the likes of you, Whisper. I may fall but I will take you with me. That is guaranteed. So, I say to you, leave my valley or die.”

  Whisper hadn’t had anyone defy her like this in over 10,000 years. All Nephilim knew she was their guide. She would lead them to ascendance. But this Nephilim defied her. This Nephilim threatened her with death. She was enraged. She was ready to end this miserable little Nephilim’s life. She gathered her energy getting ready when Godkiller flared.

  Godkiller, a Divine level sword, flared at her making her pause. Whisper was confused. That weapon shouldn’t exist. It was too powerful for even some gods to touch. Yet, it belonged to Raylin, a half-ascended Nephilim. Of this there was no doubt, and no doubt the Godkiller could kill her. It was made to kill her. Did Raylin make the sword? How did he know Whisper would come? She looked at his armor. It was Divine level too. Rings, bracers, boots, all of his items were Divine level.

  “I will withdraw as I came unprepared. You may think you are ready, but you aren’t. I don’t know where you got those items, but I will not be denied. I will come for you, when you least expect it. You will have to look over your shoulder for the rest of your short life.” Whisper said as more of a promise than a threat.

  A man suddenly appeared between the two of them, floating on top of the river. It was as if he was always there. “My name is Malentine. You will stop this feud. Whisper, you will forgo any ideas of harming Raylin. Raylin is free to follow his own Path. You are not to interfere. Raylin, you will continue on your Path until you ascend or die. You will not pursue revenge on Whisper if you ascend. Your Path is your art, not violence. If either of you disobeys my commands, you die. Ascended or not, you die. There will be no appeal.” The man disappeared, like he was never there.

  Whisper looked at the spot where Malentine stood. She knew Malentine was the System. The System had spoken and its word was law. She looked at Raylin and wondered what would happen if he ascended. Was it worth her life to stop him? No, if she was gone, who would guide the Nephilim on the true Path. She teleported across the galaxy back to her home.

  Raylin dismissed his armor and placed his sword back into his inventory. He would keep it there for a time. Others may come, only Whisper was forbidden. He would continue to be diligent, even while working on his art. He turned around and headed back to his smithy.

  I woke up wide awake. This dream was different than the visions Whisper sent me. I don’t know if it was real or not. It may just be a hopeful reaction to Whisper’s visions. I can feel the dream fading. It fades quickly. I can’t remember much, but it leaves me with a sense of hopefulness.