Forest Arc: Another 'Void'

Sven found himself walking through the gates of some giant structure, walking out into the open air he marveled at what was before him. The sky was nothing but pure endless white, beneath that was the contrasting architecture of what could only be described as a gargantuan coliseum that stretched on forever - it's rows empty, completely vacant of all spectators. Walking into the open Sven felt the sand slide between his toes as he traveled inward without any sense of purpose.

The winds howled and sand was kicked about the building causing mini typhoons to aimlessly cascade around the coliseum floor. Sven carried on walking and now began to survey inward, wasn't he supposed to be injured? Looking to his hand and then to his chest he saw no wounds nor scars; it was as if he had never been hurt before in his entire life. Feeling his chest he confirmed it, there was no hole where one should have been, he had been struck trying to shield the Harpy known as Claire from sharing his fate, he was sure that must have happened yet where is the physical proof?

Why was he here then? How did he get from bleeding out in those accursed woods to walking through the desert sand in some anomalous foreign place he had never been before?

As if to answer his internal monologue, a sand swept figure emerged from the floor, levitating in front of Sven as sand cascaded down his body - as if waking from a deep, deep slumber. He wore golden chain armor with red cloth trimmings, his eyes shone a deep satin red and his face was taut with the passage of time. He looked eternal, like a grape left out to scorch in the sun for far too long - but still regal in its features in some perverse sense of the word.

"Tidings, human, it has been long since I have drank to one of your kind in these empty fields of war." His alien voice had a familiar etherealness to it. Cupping his hand a glass phased into existence before him, extending it he offered the cup to Sven who was surprisingly calm given the circumstances. Reflexively taking the cup from the odd man, the prune smiled a crooked smile, his teeth blackened like soot and twisted into an absurdity.

"I hope not empty for very much longer, drink youth and youth shall be drunk! A man my take a drink, but care that a drink not taketh the man, yes?" Looking down Sven saw the crystalline glass was filled with a blood red liquid that bubbled on occasion if you stared for long enough. This was a test, Sven was certain of it. He looked at the cup for a time longer and gripped it firmly in his hand, drinking the entire contents of the glass in one shot without any doubts. Chuckling the pruned man slapped his armored knee at the sight.

"You are as my brother had said, headstrong you refused to ask because to question was to sow the seeds of doubt." The being stated, it wasn't asked in the manner of a question as the man somehow knew the answer. "Unwise, but correct. On the fields of battle it is best for a man to drink long and thorough, for he may never drink again once the battle is done. And more than that, doubt is the reason many a man fails to return. To do everything with resolve is to be a warrior, and a warrior is what you are." The man unsheathed a flaming sword from his hip causing Sven's eyes to widen. "Now drink long from this, the flames will purify and seal the pacts we three have now made. We'll be seeing you again, Sven Gate." And with that the pruned man struck him with a piercing flame straight through Sven's chest, blasting out of his back like a volcano erupting.

The pain was searing and mind alteringly painful as every nerve ending spiraled in rebellion, every thought was concentrated on the pain, there was no room for anything else save for the demanding of himself to pull through.