Joshua. Joshua was the man''s name.


    Hector knew Joshua; they had worked together on multiple projects, after all. Well, that was before his coworker became... that. He knew it was Joshua since he always wore that polka-dot tie, though he never quite understood Joshua''s humor.


    Like the other man, Joshua had his face replaced with a hole. A depthless black hole. It was one thing to encounter it once; Hector would have chalked it up to an anomaly—an eccentricity of this world he found himself in.


    It was another matter to have encountered it twice and with someone he was familiar with. Something had happened to Joshua. Hector did not want to know how his acquaintance ended up like that.


    Like the other man, Joshua was in an unresponsive state. He did not react when Hector shone the lantern against his missing face. Yet, he still breathed. Alive, but not completely aware. Would it be unethical to leave him behind?


    Hector undid the odd tie, then used it to tie Joshua''s wrists together. It would''ve been improper to leave him behind, assuming he could be saved. Hector would make sure he studied the phenomenon. With a tug at the tie, Joshua stumbled forward. The motor functions were still intact.


    If Hector recalled properly, every Aspirant—he assumed they were aspirants—had three options in that coffin. He patted Joshua down. Nothing. No artifacts. Either he lost it or he must have picked the proficiencies or an innate.


    With the grimoire, compass, and lantern in one hand, and the leash and flowing rune in another, Hector continued to follow the gray arrow. He could not shake the feeling he was being watched.


    If he could see, if the darkness did not engulf his surroundings, he was almost certain he would be on some sort of ancient road judging by the flat surface and distance he had traveled for.


    Like all roads, it led to a hub of civilization. Hector used that term loosely, since the portcullis blocking his path was in a state of disrepair.


    Cracks lined the stone gate of the portcullis. Darkness obscured the walls extending on either side of the gate. Hector could tell it had seen better days. The compass pointed past the gate and into what he assumed to be a city of sorts; It was difficult when he could only rely on the lantern.


    The thought of finding something suitable to wear, ideally boots for the ankle deep water and clothes other than the suit, accompanied by shelter and food, was enough encouragement for him to enter the gate.


    Hector''s hope for food was extinguished when he had a view of the city proper.


    The city was shrouded in darkness. The lantern illuminated buildings made from stone bricks and dark wooden frames. Each one stood two stories tall, with a taller one here and there.


    Care was placed into the construction of each structure; each one had a distinct design or flaw. Hector noted the presence of chimneys and the occasional metal sign.


    The streets were formed from cobblestone; they had ditches lining the sides. Metal lamps dotted the edges of the street, which were apparently dysfunctional. Curiously, the lamps had symbols carved in the interior metal in place of a visible lighting mechanism.


    Water from the gate drained into the sewer grates and created a soothing melody. The water level was shallow compared to before, but it was still present.


    The lack of inhabitants concerned him. The compass pointed inward and down the street. Hector followed the gray arrow with Joshua in tow.


    The compass led him to a plaza, which was large. Large enough that the light did not reach the other side. Judging from the structure and the way the street led into it; Hector assumed it would have been a hub. The tall pillar of glassy black stone standing at the center begged to differ.


    An Obsidian Pillar. The compass pointed to the Pillar. Hector made his way to it, then instinctively pressed a palm against the icy surface. Words bloomed on the black surface.


    Foreign language recorded in the Pillar. Update lexicon?A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The obsidian divided itself into two portions, separated by a line of gold. The left side was unnaturally smooth with a hint of gold, and the right side had a rough edge to it. The options were intuitive. He pressed his hand against the left option.


    Hector felt like his head would split open after he had done that, like someone tried to shove a nail into his skull. After a moment, the headache stopped, and he felt like he understood something, but he didn''t know what. The words erased themselves, then formed new lines.


    Grade 1 (1%)


    Shards: (-)


    Pending Improvements: 1


    Trial Status:


    Aspirants: (138/1000)


    Artifacts:


    The Unwritten Grimoire: Grade 1 (1%)


    Pages: (5/5)


    Paper Poppets: Grade 1 (9%) (+8%)


    Poppets: (2/3)


    Permissions


    The words were condensed compared to the earlier one. The number of aspirants had increased by thirty-seven, and the paper poppets increased by eight percent. Did the percentages increase with use? What he was curious about were the number of paper poppets in his possession. It should have been three, not two.


    He examined the poppets in his possession. Two in his pocket, and the third one was... damaged.


    The head of the poppet was black; the circle had grown to engulf it at some point. The shading of the circle reminded him of the two men he encountered so far. Hector was fairly confident at this point the paper figurine prevented the same fate from occurring.


    He disposed of the poppet, then inspected the other two. True to his suspicion, one of them had a miniscule black dot on the head. Concerning. It would be in his best interest to keep a stock of the paper figurines.


    Hector tapped on the obsidian.


    Permissions:


    Improvement


    Languages


    Manifestation


    Meld


    Satiate


    He tapped two of the permissions in quick succession.


    Manifestation: Manifests lost or destroyed artifacts with shards. The cost is equivalent to the artifact''s grade.


    Satiate: Basic needs and fatigue will regenerate at the cost of shards.


    Shards had their priority elevated to a necessity in his mind. It would solve his immediate issues. It was essential for his survival.


    He did not want to end up like Joshua. The thought reminded him of his coworker. Hector turned around and immediately regretted that decision. He knew where the inhabitants of the town had gone.


    Joshua had not moved, it was what stood behind him that unnerved him.


    At the edge of the lantern light, he could see more individuals without faces. The Faceless, if he had given them a name. There were a dozen Faceless staring at him, along with the man in the brown robe. The holes they wore swallowed his attention. They called to him.


    The circle on the second poppet grew and darkened at a visible rate. What caused it to grow? Was it because they could see him if they had eyes? The solution was simple then: break the line of sight.


    The lantern rattled as Hector sprinted across the plaza and along a connecting street. The black circle had stopped growing. That confirmed his theory: the faceless were following him and the cause of the black circle. He would have to find somewhere to hide.


    He scanned the buildings, searching for one that would be secured. His attention landed on a taller one with metal grilles barring the windows. Perfect.


    He opened the metal door with some effort, made his way inside, then closed the door behind him. He surveyed the room and focused on a closet. That would have to do. Hector dragged and barricaded the door with the heavy furniture.


    Would it hold? Hector wouldn''t bet on it, but it was better than nothing. The Faceless were passive from his previous interactions, and he hoped they stayed that way.


    A horrible shriek sounded above him, accompanied by the flap of wings.


    Hector looked through the window and cautioned a glance outside. The lantern illuminated the streets. He spotted Joshua standing in the middle of the road, alongside of the other faceless.


    He heard something pierce the air above him. Something—a creature with far too many wings for a bird—swooped down. Joshua was gone. The Faceless scattered; they limped away into the adjacent buildings.


    The large midnight wings blended seamlessly with the night; they reached to the roofs of the stone buildings. They did not have feathers, and were more of a liquid, inky substance.


    It was gone as quickly as it had arrived. Hector would not go outside anytime soon—he didn''t want to end up like Joshua. He covered the windows with the curtains.


    What had occurred to Joshua was regrettable, but what could he have done about it?


    Joshua was already a Faceless when Hector found his coworker, and quite frankly, he prioritized his own survival over his acquaintance. There was far too much on his plate for empathy right now, and he was powerless in this scenario. He had to help himself before he could help others, so to speak.


    Hector released a sigh of relief, turned around, then examined the room he found himself in. Unlike the world outside, there was a distinct lack of water or damage on the aged wooden floor. It had the scent of a library, and dust swirled against the lantern when he moved across the room.


    Curtains, woven from a purple fabric with gold trimmings, covered the windows. Shelves of books lined the room. A desk at the center of the room caught Hector''s attention, with a single book resting on top of it.


    Hector approached the desk, placed his belongings on the desk, traced a finger over the faded and illegible cover of the book, then opened it.


    The first page stood the test of time. The words were not written in ink; instead, they were burned onto the pages. Hector read the title written in a language he did not know the name of.


    Introduction to Strands and Spells