《Karacatoa - Descent into Madness》 1. Shame The sun slowly inched closer towards the mountain, hiding itself behind a lone hill. Atop the range, a dilapidated estate was built. There wasn''t a single soul living up there, just memories of luxury and hedonism. Moreover, it seemed to be more part of the surrounding forest than a separate building - because inch by inch, vines and grass crawled their way inside the venerable house. Certainly, it was a place which only fools would dare to take a step in. Scum and lost souls, those who didn''t have attachments to their former lives. The whole area was practically oozing with dread, cracking ajar even the sturdiest hearts. But perhaps, either because of foolishness or a lack of choice, 4 young lads and lasses walked up the forgotten trail, taking measured steps into the ever-encroaching forest. "This- this doesn''t feel right. There''s something deeply wrong with this place." The youngest of the bunch said from the back, his voice cracking a little. Every now and then he would glance at his back, trying to find something hiding in his shadows. "Tch, get a hold of yourself Heitor! Don''t let things get inside of your head; that''s literally the first rule every adventurer learns." Their leader harshly scolded him, even though his own heart drummed loudly inside his chest. Indeed, there was something amiss there - the whole forest was dead silent, not even the sound of bugs to be heard. All they could hear was their voices, and every once in awhile their breathing (if they focused well enough). Furthermore, there was this unusual feeling of being watched, and although a little blurry, that emotion remained there, at the back of their minds. Small droplets of sweat slid across their foreheads as the front yard came into view. The first thing which greeted them was marble statues which looked more like deformed humanoid shapes - time sure marked its presence there. "Come. I need someone to help me open this gate." Julia whispered, trying her best to keep it as low as possible. Nonetheless, her voice broke the defying stillness in the garden, traveling across the whole property. Heitor nodded, choosing to remain quiet. Both of them slowly walked towards the rusted gate, dead leaves and branches snapping under their feet. The entrance creaked shrilly as they opened it. Immediately, panic set in, and they chose to open it as fast as they could. Crack... something gave way in the gate as they forced their way in, a loud crack resounding from it, and the entire thing fell down to the floor with a powerful bang - any attempt at stealth completely disrupted past that point. From their blind spot, a pair of eyes landed upon the group, sending shivers down Agnel''s spine. They were being watched, he was certain now. Snapping his head towards the front windows, he caught a quick glimpse of an old woman carrying a baby within her hands. She was staring down at them. Gulping a dry gust of air, he steeled his resolve before saying, "Prepare yourselves, we are going in." Raising her iron mace, Julia prayed. "Lord, please bask us in your everlasting light and protect us from the evil which lurks in thedarkness- Divine Clarity!" A blinding glow radiated from it, rushing towards every participant of the party. As it permeated inside them, explosive adrenaline shot through their veins, pumping blood to every cell. If before they could hear even their comrades'' breathing, now it was possible to hear the very silence. Heitor, the most fearful of them, felt a soothing warm embrace his body, telling him that everything would be fine. "I can''t get enough of this spell," Agatha murmured while stretching her limbs and joints, preparing herself for the coming battles. Inside the house, the furniture was beyond repair, having rotten throughout the eons. Fungi grew from the walls, floor, and roof. There wasn''t a sole place untouched by its infestation. "Let''s start by exploring this room - it seems to be the most important one. And remember, we are looking for a crimson amulet." Agnel said. Straightaway they got to work - after all, the faster they found the amulet, the faster they were getting out of there. All over the place, old paintings filled the walls, depicting the noble dynasty which owned the property. Curiously, ritual materials littered the floor, where a salt circle was drawn onto. "Julia, do you have any idea of the purpose this ritual could have had?" Agatha asked while circling the ceremony circle. "... Not quite. This one is quite strange though. Normally, salt rings are used to summon upon entities, but this one... it attempted to summon something else. The sacrificial objects are unusual, so either the ones performing it didn''t know what they were doing or they were trying to accomplish a complex feat." "What are you two blabbering about? We need to focus on finding the amulet." Heitor rushed them, for he couldn''t stand the place anymore. It must be his imagination, but the fungi seemed to start moving at the edges of his vision, just out of his perception. "And you need to focus on calming down, brother. Maybe thiswill help us solve the amulet''s whereabouts." Agatha went inside the circle, kneeling to take a closer look at the materials used during the invocation.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. "I would suggest you to not touch those things. It''s never good to touch ritual sacrifices." "I know Julia, I''m just taking a closer look." She shrugged her concerns before analyzing the objects at display. One heavy book, a small skull and a sacrificial dagger. Nothing out of the norm, although... taking a closer look at the book, she noticed that time didn''t damage it. The pages were as new as ever. "Karacatoa..." She read the title, a sudden urge calling her to open it, "I wonder what is written in it." Ancient runes were jumbled in its cover, like they were thrown there without a clear objective into mind. She had never seen such symbols, their shapes were jagged and violent as if ripping the book to shreds. She gradually approached the book, ready to unfold its pages when- "What are you doing Agatha? Didn''t I just say to not touch it?" Julia asked. "Oh, sorry." She quickly got away from the book, realizing the close call. "I think I found something! Quick, there''s a hatch in here." Agnel excitedly opened it, quick on his toes to find the damn amulet already. The wood creaked and a few splints flew into the air. "Annnd....", A frown came to his face, "what-?" He muttered before falling to the floor, resisting the urge to vomit his contents out. Skulls... lots of ''em. White, brittle and hollow, they were piled over a swampy red mud, filling the cellar to the very top. If the house was infested with fungi, then the basement was corrupted by it. Mushrooms grew out of everywhere, even from the heads'' eye-sockets - aghast expressions froze in time. And there, in the middle of the gory mess, hanged an amulet - a fungus engulfed hand holding it tight. Agnel felt his lungs go into disarray, completely lost on how to breathe. In a fit of panic, he forgot how to properly inhale and exhale. Julia, a prime example of a cleric, immediately ran towards his side, avoiding the nightmarish sight. Cupping his head within her hands, she said with a very calm voice, "Calm down now, calm down. I need you to focus on your breathing. Count from 1 to 5, and then exhale with all your strength." Nevertheless, his fright only rose to higher levels. His eyes shot open as he tried to mumble something, but the words wouldn''t come out. Tilting her head, Julia tried once more to tranquilize him, "Agnel, what are-" "Watch out!" Agatha screamed at the top of her lungs, a quiet whistling sound traveling across the room. In a split second, she turned her head to face Agatha, and then she felt her right shoulder beingtornapart. Just a split second and the arrow missed her nape. Blood was the first thing to gush out, what followed though, could only be described as pained cries. "ARGhhhh!" She howled as she tumbled onto the floorboards, falling right inside the basement. A second arrow narrowly missed her neck, flying across the air. "Julia!" Agatha took cover against a wall, her brother behind. "Did you see where the archers are?!" She frantically asked her brother, who in turn couldn''t even reply. He mumbled the words, tripping over his tongue every sentence while trying to speak. "Julia and Agnel are out the-" Another arrow flew, penetrating Agnel''s forehead with a squishy sound. Her mouth didn''t utter a sound anymore. Gulping dry, she could only hear her and Heitor''s breathing. Agnel was... no more. It came with no warning or preparation, it just happened. And that frightened them. They saw themselves in Agnel''s position - it could very well be them. As unforgiving and fast as an arrow, a life taken away. The idea that they could be... so feeble frightened them. Until then, the concept of death didn''t even come to their minds. After all, it may happen to others but not them. Now, however, they know how close loss could be. Agatha''s legs trembled, and her lips parted in a perpetual expression of horror. Leaning on the wall, color drained from both her lips and face. Run, that''s right, she needed to run out of that hateful place and protect her brother. Yet, just as she prepared herself to bolt right out of there, she heard Julia''s pleas for help. They sounded fearful and hurt, breaking down into quiet whimpers. Could she really leave her friend there? Flee like a coward and sacrifice Julia''s life? Wouldn''t Julia run to aid her? What if it was her in there? Sweat poured from her face as she pondered over a decision, paralyzed between running or fighting. Meanwhile, Julia crawled upon straws and bones to reach the blood-tinted amulet. If anything could save her, then her only chance was the amulet - the others were silent, probably dead as well. A red light compelled her to reach the amulet, it was literally a light at the end of the tunnel. Finally, Agatha chose. She had to save her companion. "We need to go back there, Julia is still alive." She whispered. "N- no! We will die!" He shook his head furiously as if begging her to not go. "We must." She said before jumping out of cover and running towards the hatch. Heitor stood there, still. He just couldn''t find the strength to move his legs. Arrows ripped across the air as the archers targeted Agatha. Jumping and ducking around, she used the furniture to her advantage, slowly inching closer towards Julia. She smiled - just 2 more steps to the hatchway. Just as she was stepping into the basement, an arrow found a way to her knee. It didn''t make a squishy sound though. Instead, it broke into many pieces, shredding her knee at different places. She fell with a heavy thud, and before she could even scream, another arrow found purchase into her head. At the same time, Julia managed to take hold of the amulet. A red beamflashed in the basement asshe held the jewelry for her dear life.Beaming a sly smile,she sighed in relief as she held the amulet. Then, at the edge of her eyes, she noticed something moving. Itwas small and fast, but she couldn''t quite catch a glimpse at it. Then a tingly ache enshrouded her body from the feet to the legs. It almost tingled, like a feather being rubbed all over her body. The slight tingle quickly became an itchy feeling. She tried using her nails to scratch herself, but the itch just wouldn''t go away. Instead, it only got worse. Gradually, green spots started appearing all over her legs and arms. "ARHHhh!" The itch evolved into full bloom pain like she was being repeatedly cut open by a sharp knife, and then submerged into a firepit. The green boils popped open and fungi started spreading from it, covering her whole body within slow torturous moments. Her last words were a blubbering mess of words, asking for a merciful death. And yet, it was for naught, for her bodywas maintainedalive. Like many others, she would wither away after years of being used as nutrient fuel. The single one left truly alive, Heitor, runs away with a book under his arms, following the forgotten trail with shame on his back. As his comrades and family are left behind, he flees alive as a coward, but alive, nonetheless. 2. Consequences Beer, mead, and wine - there were drinks for all tastes in The Drinking Rat, and Heitor made sure to take a sip of each one of them. If it wasn''t for his ever-shrinking pockets, then he would be in a perpetual state of drunkness. Because every time he was able to walk properly or think clearheaded, other-worldly screams would remind him of his cowardice. Pleas for help and cries of pain tormented him every night. It has been a month already since he arrived at the small settlement, and the nightmares only got worse with each passing day. At some nights he would be unwilling to go to sleep, instead choosing to wander aimlessly around the city. Moreover, the only thing which he was able to retrieve from that cursed house was a book. A useless one, nonetheless. After all, which sort of book doesn''t have anything written in it? A worthless one, of course. "Blank pages, blank pages, blank pages, nothing but blank pages..." He muttered at his lone corner of the inn, which everyone made sure to avoid. Contrary to the others though, the innkeeper quite liked his presence. The reason being simple - instead of seeing a broken and unstable man, all he saw was a treasure chest. Misery is good for business, after all. "One more?" He asked from the kitchen. "Money... don''t have anymore." He groaned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Oh- I see." The innkeeper immediately went to the back of the pantry and started talking with a tall man. After a few seconds, the man noddedbefore goingtowards Heitor''s direction. Approaching him by his side, he said, "Come on friend, no more drinks. You can''t stay here anymore." "Uhh, why can''t I?" His words came out slurred, blending in a confusing mixture. A terrible smell of booze left his lips as he spoke. "Enough is enough." He forcefully grabbed the mead bottle from Heitor''s hand. "Whatcha ar'' you doin''? Back, give it back!" He drowsily rose from his seat, his vision swaying a little. "Don''t say I didn''t warn you." The tall man punched him in the face without a second thought. A few teeth flew through the air, one even landing right inside the bottle. Heitor''s head rocked back and forth before his whole world went dark and his legs gave way. Falling face-first over the table, just nearhis useless book, the last thing he remembered was blood dripping down from his mouth onto a small red pool. "Shit, now I have to clean up this mess." The bodyguard grumbled before noticing the mysterious book. There was this sudden urge to open it, something which made the experienced guard weary of. Cautiously, he reached out for the book. Just as he touched it though, a small stream of blood coming from Heitor''s mouth got absorbed by the book pages, painting it a deep color of red. Retrieving his hand as fast as possible, the guard stared at the book with disgust and loathing. "What kind of scourge is this?" The previous urge got replaced by a deep-rooted feeling of repugnance towards the object. The bloody pool atop the table nonchalantly crept closer towards it, acting akin to a twisted joke of an alive being. The pages unfolded themselves, and red letters appeared out of thin air. Making a fast pray, the man quickly threw both Heitor and his book out of the tavern and into an alley. Hoping that he wasn''t haunted by the slight touch, he prayed once more before going to the holy church - he had to report this. Hours later, Heitor finally woke up from is deep slumber. His stiff body trembled in the freezing night, and he immediately felt a few empty spots inside of his mouth. Now clearheaded, all he could utter was, "Son of a bitch." At least he could see the shiny bright sky from his position, so not everything was lost. Slowly rising from the ground, he groaned as his joints clacked and did other noises. Just by his side, lay the book.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Why do I even keep you?" He asked out loud. Clutching at his mouth with his right hand, he threw the book away in a fit of anger. "Useless-" He stared at the book as it hit a wall. What he saw though, went against all of his expectations. There was something written in it! He quickly unfolded the first page and stared at the text contained within. "As warm and bright the Sun is, as cold and dark the void is. And as much as one can be hopeful, so much is the depth of despair. Being strong isn''t about strength - it is about taking advantage of what you have, be it the light or dark. " _ Lesson 1, Karacatoa. Those who choose to help others will be better at aiding. Likewise, those who decide upon killing will be better at it as well. Hence, one must decide their path. Beware though, for all choices have consequences. "What in the world?" His words dragged themselves, frozen stiff into the air. There was something odd bout'' those words, something clearly wrong, sick. They were written by a mad man, it could only be; jagged and piercing letters, the madness seemed to corrupt the book itself. The words were as vivid as their color - they seemed to move, jumping out of the pages like haunting spirits. Closing it in a hurry, Heitor leaned heavily ona trash bin, forcefully pulling onto his hair. His head hurt, but not physically, no... he couldn''t feel it, but he knew it was there. A phantom pain, invisible and yet disturbing. One must choose their path. Choose. Choices. Lack of choices... The more he tried to shut away those thoughts, the more intoxicating they became. Images of his sister flashed in his mind, her last moments before her body fell stiff onto the cold floor. Her empty eyes staring straight at him. No matter where he went or how much he drank, those eyes would never leave him. For all choices have consequences... Consequences. Consequences. Deaths. Consequences. Deaths... consequences... death- Heitor screamed in pure agony, trying to shake away his sister''s eyes as they stared at him. Punishment, he was being punished for what he has done - he concluded as the book compelled for his attention. The words trembled in pure excitement as their striking red danced onto the white canvas. To help others or to kill - what would be his choice? "She wants revenge, that''s it! HER stare won''t leave me until I kill those who''ve ended her life." A huge smile crossed his lips as he cried softly, thanking the book for sparing his soul and offering redemption. Then there was a clear shift in the air and the letters moved across the pages to form new words. Your strength is within your enemies'' blood - all there is to their lives is the ultimate sacrifice. Drench Karacatoa onto their life essence, and you shall be awarded with their power. Meanwhile, a huge crowd formed in the city''s main square. The only sounds one could hear were whispering among the people and the muffled pleas of a tied man. Speaking low onto her neighbor''s ear, a young woman asked, "Isn''t that Garoth, the inn''s bodyguard?" "Yes, it''s him." He answered. On top of the raised platform, a cleric preached to the people, "Good people of Northwood! I''ve come to present to you an unfaithful man, a person whose beliefs are centered around the dark arts. He, like many otherdisloyalservants, has allied himself with the scorn. BUT- there is still a chance for forgiveness, for our Lord is merciful!" He took out the rope binding Garoth''s mouth shut. "Where is the cursed book?" The preacher asked. "I swear to you, I don''t remember where I''ve thrown it! I''m sure it is in an alley somewhere-" The cleric put the rope back, shaking his head in disappointment. "Burn him." He commanded without hesitation. Instantly, the straw pile ignited, and the flames exploded upwards. At first, the screams were for mercy, but then they transformed into cries of excruciating pain. His flesh was burning and he could feel it in his very bones. Not only that but even though the agony was unsurmountable, he didn''t blackout, instead suffering till his very death. By the end of the whole ordeal, death came like an embracing breeze, brushing away all the pain. Likewise, the crowd was dead, dead silent. Even though they were used to bandit executions, those were by hanging at worst, not by burning to death. It was the first inquisition they''ve witnessed in their little town, and it sure made a deep impression. "Now, a man is hiding inside this village. A man who has brought with him a cursed book, the sort which teaches dark sorcery, and is roaming around these streets. All of you should know him as the one who wanders the streets alone and drinks every day. May this act like a warning then, for anyone who dares to help him hiding or fleeing will be treated as a sinner and put down as such. Furthermore, if one of you finds a book by the name of ''Karacatoa'' and retrieves it to the church, a reward will be thoroughly awarded." He declared with a righteous tone before exiting the stage. Garoth''s limp corpse was left behind though, being used as an example for the Lord''s traitors. Another cleric swiftly followed him, saying, "We need to reach the capital as soon as possible to report this. There is no time to lose preaching in here! Just put a price on the head of that man and be done with it already." "Don''t fright, I understand the severity of the situation just as well as you do. Prepare the wagon, we will leave by tomorrow morning." He said before going back to the church. Just as he was left alone, the other apostle whispered in a low voice, "Lord save us." 3. Price "I''m telling ya, this is free money. We are going after an unconscious man after all - more like treasure hunting than manhunting." A man within his mid ages said to the group of mercenaries as he scratched his beard. Shaking his head in disagreement, the youngest one didn''t believe it, "Then you are saying that he is still somewhere in an alley for hours by now, an alley which nobody in the city has found thus far. This isn''t the capital, remember that." Indeed, the whole city was being searched. There wasn''t nook or cranny that went unnoticed, and Northwood was nothing more than a small settlement. One could say that the whole ordeal was put into action for religious convictions, but that would be too far-fetched. Because while the common people believed in the Lord and prayed every single day, their faith in money was tougher than gold coins. "I will have to agree with the young one this time. There is no way he is out there in the streets. Either he escaped into the woods, which should be impossible with the tight security, or he went to the sewers." He spoke with the manners of a leader. Tapping his fingers on the table, he continued, "Our best bet is going in there. The group will be divided into 2, 3 will go out to watch the sewer exit while the others will enter it from the city. Oh, and remember to not bring torches, for a little accident with fire could have dire consequences." The group agreed. Meanwhile, underneath the city, Heitor tried to find his way in the maze called sewer. Other than repeating trails which would lead to the very beginning, most paths were dead-ends. Even though the city was quite small, the sewage system was something else altogether. After hours of searching and enduring the nauseating smell of rotten eggs, frustration was understandable. First, wanted notices were put all around the streets - for reasons unknown to Heitor. And then, he was put onto a corner, being forced to escape by the gutter. Surprisingly, the whole place was teeming with life, with plants covering the walls and ceiling. Leeches swan freely in the greywater and colorful frogs took a bath at the water shores. If it wasn''t for his tight timeframe, then he would ask questions such as: Why is there so much life here? And why do I feel so sick? But the manhunt didn''t wait, for the price put onto his head was too great to let it pass. His arrest - be it alive or dead - valued 1 entire grand royal coin! What did it mean to have 1 GR? A foreigner could ask. It meant the start of a noble dynasty. It meant a life filled with the pleasures of the flesh. It was the kind of thing which made blood brothers kill each other. And all that for a drunk guy and his strange book - who in their right minds would let the opportunity slip? Those coins were available just for the king''s family and the church, used to grant their allies power and the right to stand beside them in the royal dinners and such. Who could''ve thought that such a little thing had so much power? And now, Heitor''s blood was the most searched jewel in the kingdom. Finally, as the light from the morning sun filtered inside the sewer, Heitor knew he was just a few more steps closer to the exit. His pace quickened as he saw the exit. Just a few more- "- think the leader is right? We''ve been here for hours already and no signs of that drunk." Voices could be heard outside. They were whispers at most, but distance made do with it. Heitor stopped dead on his tracks, his eyes still adjusting to the light. Not a single breath left his lips, as he feared they would hear it. Sweat slid down towards the floor, his heart drummed loudly inside his chest as he slowly backtracked his steps. What now?! Was the only voice inside his mind. He felt that if he stayed there, even more, it was only a matter of time before he dropped to the ground - be it dead or unconscious. Even with a shirt tied around his nose, the smell still permeated inside his nostrils. If he ever escapes from there, the stench will never leave him - that he knew for sure. Nevertheless, he ran. He ran all the way to the middle of the sewer network. "It can''t be! After all I''ve done... this is it?" He whimpered as he hugged the book. "There must be a way to get out of here! Yes, I can go back to the city by one of the culverts and then run away from there." "You are running away again?" Whispers engulfed his ears. His sister was watching him from the shadows. "N- no, I''m- I''m not..." He muttered. Her hollow eyes stared at his shrinking frame, her words frosty and unpassionate, "Yes, you are. Coward." Kneeling to her, he pleaded, "I- I- m sorry!" "Stop fleeing, coward, and fight." "But how?" He asked to no one in particular. He spoke alone in the sewers, at times changing his voice to different tones, and at others cursing himself.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. "Hide in the shadows, use this labyrinth to your advantage." He- she replied. "I don''t have a weapon." "Oh, you don''t?" She asked while eyeing the water filled with bloodsuckers and croakers. Nodding, he seemed to understand her meaning. Fast on his toes, he hid into one of the dead end paths. "Ugh, boss. I can''t stand this place." The youngest said as he tried to shake away the spiderwebs glued to his trousers. If it wasn''t for the odor, then the twitching vines and distasteful blood parasites would do it for him. "I mean-" "Shut up, your voice is distracting." The leader shut him, "Anyway, the map says we are on the right track." They quickly made their way towards the end of the maze by avoiding dead ends and repeating routes. By his estimates, their wanted man should be at the very edge of the sewer exit. Unbeknownst to him, the one they searched for was quite near - close enough to be dangerous. Heitor followed the youngest of their group who stood at the back - just at the right spot for his intentions. At his hands, he held a shirt-improvised bag. Slowly he shortened their distance, and when he was just steps away, he used his shirt to encase the mercenary''s face. With one arm he clutched his neck and with the other the sack. Everything was too fast for the junior to even understand. Within milliseconds, a cloth filled with black little spots was put onto his head. Something in it squirmed around his cheeks, a slimy texture sliding across his face. His first instinct was to scream, which proved to be the worst idea for the moment. As he opened his mouth to alert the others, a mucky thing entered his mouth, making its way inside his throat. Then he felt a sting, he was bitten. A sting after another, his face was dilacerated by the leeches. A few of the bunch felt like being adventurous and chose to taste the odd lookin'' white balls on his face. It proved to be quite squishy. Moreover, the more they made their way inside those cavities, the tastier it became. For the young man it was hell, but for the leeches it was heaven - a feast they''ve never had. Heitor instantly dragged the body to his hiding spot. "Now drench Karacatoa in it." The whispers were intoxicating. Finally, he thought, finally he would stop being weak. And yet, for some reason, there was a bitten taste to it. Even though he won his first fight, it didn''t feel like it. It felt more akin to a lost - as if he had lost something. Shaking his head, he nevertheless put the book beside the deceased corpse. Once again, there was a clear shift into the air, like time stopped momentarily. There was a faint presence around him, but he didn''t know where it was. The first thing to happen was the sound of many leeches dying - a quiet shriek into the darkness, unheard but felt by Heitor. The blood absorbed by them crept towards the book like it was claiming back its natural right. Then the blood of the victim''s body ripped through its skin in a gory manner and slowly inched closer to the blank pages. His sister smiled slightly, a soft giggle escaping her lips, "You did well, brother." Enduring the scene with an aghast expression, he nodded in silence. "It was either him or me." The bloody words quivered in ecstasy as they once more formed new words. One''s innermost enemy is itself, and therefore it is in one''s interests to know their weaknesses and strengths - for a resilient person is capable of bearing their shortcomings. _Lesson 2, Karacatoa. By the blood which knows every nook and cranny of your body, it is the only one capable of showing your true self - so drip a speck of blood onto Karacatoa, and it shall reveal your secrets. Heitor did just as asked, without hesitation or doubts. Immediately, new words formed themselves, but not in the book. This time they appeared within Heitor''s sight.
Name: Heitor Lothrod Age: 17 years Body State: Suffering lesser poisoning Mental State: Degraded Titles: Leech Dealer, Madman, Karacatoa''s Blessed Child, Highest Bounty Peculiarities: Coward, Creative Weapon Maker, Paranoid
A long stretch of silence perpetuated as he stared at the screen. Then, in silent acceptance, he grabbed the sword of the young man and set out. Minutes later of walking into total silence, the sole sound being a distant trickle, the leader and his partner started feeling that something was amiss. It was an unusual emotion, it gradually came out from the back of their minds to the front like a slithering snake. "Why do I feel restless? Do you two feel this as well?" Their leader asked. "Yeah, something''s fishy about this. Ay, John should feel the same... right John?" His question was met with a deafening silence. How strange... for their chattering companion to be so quiet. "John?" The leader turned around with rising dread, "John?!" The source for their trepidation finally revealed itself. The reason for their restlessness was the lack of chatter. "He disappeared." Just like thin smoke. "How?!" His lackey asked out of his wits, "We were with him just now." "Let''s seek for him, he should be close." Grabbing at his sword hilt, he commanded, "You go that way, I will go at that tunnel. Anything should happen, scream to warn me. But I am sure nothing bad should have happened to him." "Are you crazy? Separate, that''s what you are suggesting? What if John was killed by that man?" He asked with rising anger, "That is stupid as hell." Frowning at the authority disrespect, the leader scolded, "Then you are saying that an unfit and boozed-up man with nothing less than a book is capable of killing someone - someone that has a weapon nonetheless?! All right behind our noses?" "What if he used dark sorcery?" "And you believe in that church bullshit? Every spell is categorized in the Spells Compendium - even the hex ones. No mage is good in melee combat, and you know it. So stop being a scaredy-cat and get on with it." His tone went leagues and leaps to show how well he took irreverence. Accepting his leader''s judgment, he reluctantly nodded. Soon they were exploring the tunnels alone. The more they walked the more they discovered how big the sewer really was. Their map only registered the path to the exit, not the complete infrastructure. Even though the leader said so that nothing bad could have happened, he couldn''t sway away from those thoughts. He shook his head in denial, refusing to stray towards his gut feeling. And yet, it seemed his gut was right. "Shit! Shit! Darius come here!" He fought the urge to vomit as John''s body came into view. His eyes were jutted out like they were sucked dry. His whole frame was limp, with no fat in it - there was just skin and bones. But that was the lesser part, for his face was deformed. There was an uncountable number of bites in his cheeks and a hole leading straight inside his throat. Hearing hurried steps coming from the main tunnel, he turned around, "Darius, come-" "KEhk" A blade pierced his neck, blood gushing out from the back. Who he saw wasn''t Darius, not at all. The unkempt and unshaven man took out the blade from him before declaring in a low voice, "Darius is dead." Heitor quickly ended the man''s life, a hint of sorrow in his speech. "It was either him or you." A feminine voice whispered from the shadows. "Was it?" He asked, not so sure anymore if he was doing the right thing. 4. Leech Silence. There wasn''t a sound to be heard within the sewer walls. Curiously, the residents of the murky place took quite a liking to it; one of them being Heitor. Silence only meant one thing for him at the moment - no more mercenaries chasing him. Nothing else mattered, for he was in no condition to fight or flee. The source of his problem was simple, namely, his leg. Other than his first and last enemies, he wasn''t so lucky in his second endeavor. The middle-aged man got a lucky strike at his right leg, cutting a very deep wound. It could be infected as well, taking into consideration the environment he currently found himself into. Thus his current predicament. If left untreated, the wound would either kill him by bleeding out or a nasty infection. Time was running out, and he needed a cleric to cure him as soon as possible. Yet not only was his head wanted, but he couldn''t even get up from the floor. "The book." His sister suggested. Yes, the book! How could he forget it? Once again, it proved to be his only way out of a dire situation. Crawling from his position towards the deceased leader''s body, he placed the book beside the remains. Since absorbing the first human, it didn''t reveal any new pages. Perhaps as far as one went in the book, the bigger the sacrifices Karacatoa would require. By all means, though, there was only one way to find out. The nightmarish phenomenon began once more. Tiny cuts appeared all over the body, and blood soon followed, gushing out of it towards the cursed object. There was no light in the sewer other than the outside sunlight, so it was hard to properly see. Nonetheless, Heitor still felt that someone- no, something, was among them, observing everything. That intent, almost like an insatiable aura radiating from the book as the bloodletters re-arranged themselves. It was ravenous, a starving wolf in between a pack of sheep. Then, as if nothing was there to begin with, the aura vanished altogether. Erasing those useless thoughts, Heitor read the page''s new contents. Contrary to what he expected though, there was no lesson this time. Choose carefully, for our decisions form who we are. The next lines jumped out of the pages and onto his sight.
Abilities:
Leech - [Rank D] Requirements: Leech Dealer, Karacatoa''s Blessed Child Life and death are closely intertwined, for new life requires death, and vice versa. But you refuse to accept the natural order of things and instead chooses to live like a worm that feeds upon others to heal itself.
Mana Manipulation - [Rank D] Requirements: None Since the early ages, humans strived for survival. Nature wasn''t amicable for their frail like, and so they resorted to the arcane arts. By wielding the invisible energies, their hegemony soon was solidified. Nevertheless, they''ve become arrogant and weak throughout the eons, forgetting the true behemoths and titans of the world.
Powerful Blow - [Rank D] Requirements: None Those who weren''t capable of wielding the arcane could only resort to their body strengths, pushing their limits to the very extreme in order to deal a decisive blow when in dire situations.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Agatha kneeled in front of the book, her frame slightly transparent in the light. Her breath came out as a chilling breeze as she spoke, "Take the Leech ability. You will die pretty soon if you don''t heal yourself." While she was pretty when alive, now her beauty could only be described as ethereal. Her jet black hair blended in with the dark and her striking translucent blue eyes reflected the sunlight. Nodding, he said, "But what should I use it on? The book already drained all the bodies dry." Chuckling by herself, she replied, "You will have to make do with what you currently have." "What do you mean- Oh." He stared at the leeches crawling all around the sewer walls, floor, and water. Using a harsher tone, she spoke as she went back to the shadows, "What are you waiting for? Get on with it." He chose the leech ability and immediately felt his fingers being pierced at every spot possible. "Arghh..." He groaned slightly as tiny droplets of blood ran down his palms. Now staring at them, the sight to behold was abhorrent, to say the least. Tiny holes covered his palms, little bony spikes jutting out of them. He wasn''t blessed with the book, no, he was cursed - he reached the epiphany as he glanced at his blood-covered fingers. His sister''s judgmental stare watched him from behind. "No walking out of this now. No running away anymore." He firmly declared as he closed his hands tight. Instantly, the holes closed themselves as the bone protrusions went back inside. Meanwhile, the rest of the mercenaries waited outside. After hours of pure waiting, uneasiness spread around the group like spilled blood. "It has been hours since we''ve been here, and no signs of either the boss or who we looking for." Holding his sweaty hands together, he continued, "something went wrong." "What should we do?" His close friend asked. "One of us needs to go warn the city guards, this is out of what we can currently handle. The other two will stay here." Of course, one of them didn''t seem to agree, "Yeah, sure. Let''s warn the guards and throw away 1 grand royal coin. Can you even hear how stupid you sound right now?" "Get a little of sense inside your thick head, our boss is probably dead! Him, John and Darius! All three of them killed by a single man! Can you fight against someone like that?" He asked out of spiciness, "Fine, I will go. Money is useless for me if I am dead, after all." He left in a hurry, leaving his 2 comrades behind. Sure enough, Samuel couldn''t wait anymore. "I''m going in there myself! Aymon may be damned, that coward. Our boss should be lost somewhere, I knew that the map couldn''t be trusted." He dispatched towards the sewers just as fast as his companion did. "Wa- wait. What are you thinking? It is dangerous, don''t go in there alone." Tomas tried to reason with him, but alas it was for naught. "You wait here, I will come back soon enough." He brushed Tomas'' worries aside with a sly grin. Making his way inside the unlit tunnels, the first thing to hit him was the smell. It was intoxicating - literally poisoning. Then the second thing he noticed was the swimming leeches, crawling cockroaches and jumping frogs. Why is it so full of life down here? He asked as many others beforehim did. There was something odd about the place though, it was dead silent. Indeed, for a place so full of life, it was quite disturbing that no sound could be heard. It was like the insects and animals were afraid of something. What it was? He had no idea and preferred to maintain it that way. The more he made his way through the cryptic pathways, the more he started regretting his decision of wandering alone. His senses were hyper-sensitive by then, trying to find anything which could be dangerous. Luckily, fear proved to be a life-saver. His keen ears caught onto quiet steps - right behind him! He turned around in fright, slashing his axe at the dark. It lightly hitat Heitor''s arm. Likewise, Heitor slashed at his neck. But either because of the shock of being hit or the lack of training, it didn''t hit his neck. Instead the sword impaled itself into the right shoulder. At that moment, the two men stared at each other''s eyes. There was a single thought in their mind - to kill and survive. Heitor was faster though. Kicking him straight at the chest, Samuel fell back onto the greywater filled with leeches. His armor weighed on him and the water canal was deep. Just like many common people, he didn''t know how to swim - the leeches, on the other hand, knew pretty well. "Please! Have mercy on me, just let me go!" He begged the mysterious man, which surprisingly extended his hand. Samuel didn''t think twice before grabbing it. Heitor pulled him to the shore before driving his sword at Samuel''s neck, this time hitting it. "KHekh." Blood dirtied the waters as Samuel stared in horror at the sword blade and then into Heitor''s eyes. Finally, silence reigned once again. "Now drain his blood," Agatha ordered. Heitor did as asked without hesitation. Minutes later he stared back at the water, a pleased expression reflecting back. The feeling of sucking blood through his hands... it was quite good actually. Moreover, the ecstasy didn''t go away for quite some time, and when it did... it wasn''t pleasant at all. Outside, the city sentries just arrived. "Where is Samuel?" Aymon asked with rising anxiety. Tomas stayed silent before answering, "In there. He said he would come back soon, but..." "He didn''t," Aymon concluded. 5. Human The Drinking Rat was lively that night. With the sudden increase in mercenaries in the city, it became a matter of how much people the establishment could withstand rather than how long it could hold on without customers. The inn wasn''t the sole place enjoying the boost in its coffers though, the whole city was at its golden age. And all of that because of an unknown man and his odd book. It has been 2 weeks already since the sewers were put onto vigilance and not a sign of him. Nobody went in, nobody went out - it was a stalemate. Some people even doubted that such man was still there, or if he even existed. After all, no normal human could survive for 2 straight weeks in such a dirty place without food or water to go by. Unless he drank from the sewer itself and ate the frogs and slugs in there, which should be impossible. Nonetheless, Tebaud, the innkeeper, didn''t give a damn about the man. For all he cared about was that more and more people migrated to Northwood in search of the huge bounty, which benefited him in many ways. "Another round?" He asked with a cheeky grin, immediately rushing the maids to serve the beer bottles. "Ay!" The huge group of mercenaries replied in a chorus. They drank their fills away without restraints, tomorrow was a big day for them after all. They''ve finally received the approval of the city hall to enter the sewers - the only condition being to take a cleric with them. With a large qualified team and even a few mages to add, that bounty was theirs to take. If that wasn''t a reason good enough to celebrate, then what could be? Standing up from his chair, one of the men declared in a loud and hoarse voice, "Tomorrow is the day my friends! Tomorrow we catch the Sewers'' Rodent for good!" Since nobody knew Heitor''s name, they''ve given one of their own, and the nickname spread notably fast. It was used by the parents to scare their children during the night and by the travelers when going to nearby cities. Even the wanted notices adhered to it. "Now..." He waited for them to quiet down before continuing, "As all of you should know, our target is a single man. And even though we are at a huge advantage, don''t underestimate him. Don''t forget that even with a goddamn city on his back, the slippery bastard still got away. Not only that but four deaths were already confirmed." Looking to his right, he said with a sad mood, "Two good lads who recently joined us can testify it." "Reynold is right. Our companions were killed by that beast, never to come back again from the sewers. He isn''t a man to be lightly trifled with." Aymon explained. Tomas was on the left side of the table, quietly drinking while hearing his friend speak. "Well said Aymon, now please drink. Tomorrow will be a long day." Reynold declared before sitting back onto his chair. From the pantry, a slightly flushed and clumsy girl walked out while carrying a trail full of beverages. "Here is your beer, sir." She served Aymon a drink whilst trying her best to not spill it in his face. Turning around to face her, he said with a smile, "Thank you." For a slight moment, they interlocked their eyes. A quick surprised expressionflashing in his face as he stared at her. She had beautiful jade-like irises, which reflected the low lit candles spread out around the tavern. Her flushed cheeks became even redder at the intense stare. Do I have something in my teeth? She thought. "I''m Aymon, what''s your name?" He asked with a smile. Operating on the offensive was his moral code. "Me? I''m Rosaline, they call me Rose in here. But you can call me whichever you like." She spoke fast, saying an entire sentence without taking a single breath. Being the country pumpkin that she was, that kind of treatment was unusual. The people of Northwood were traditional folk at the end of the day. The sole exceptions being the mercenaries who stopped for a single night in there, which were few. "Rosaline!" A shout came from the kitchen, "Get back to work!" "I- uh, I''ve got to go." She said. "Another time then, we get to know each other later." He replied with a grin. Indeed, it would be a long night. For them that is. Heitor, on the other hand, didn''t care anymore if it was night or day. It has been days since he has been trapped under the city and time seemed to make less and less sense. His eyes now were totally adapted to the dark, even getting to the point where the sunlight hurt his vision. His mouth by then had the taste of slugs, leeches, and frogs perpetually glued to it. He could even smell his sickening breath every time he opened his lips. And although he wanted to say that he was getting used to the taste of it, it would still be a huge lie. At times he couldn''t find the strength to eat the gooey stuff, instead throwing up everything. It was his body''s natural response to the highly toxic food. Though fortunately, his leech ability was capable of healing diseases and infections - he ''happily'' found out.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. It isn''t even worth it to mention the water... What he felt most disgusted though, was of himself. It wasn''t without reason though, because he looked more akin to an animal than human. Living in the sewers, eating the filth and sleeping amongst the filth - he became one of the filth. Gradually, as he was imprisoned into the sewers, disgust became frustration, and it soon became anger. Why was he wanted? What did he do wrong? When did he break the law? Why him? If he understood the answers behind those questions, the situation would be more bearable, if only a little. And it was 4 days ago that he''d reached his breaking point. "You are quite unlucky." Agatha whispered to him. "I will have to agree." He laughed a bit depreciatingly, a bitter taste in his mouth - though not because of food this time. "I know what you are thinking - why is this happening to me? What did I do wrong? Why this, why that..." She circled around him before sitting by his right side. "You are asking the wrong questions, brother. This isn''t about why, because there is no reason for it. It just happens. What you should ask yourself instead, is how to get out of your current predicament." Finally, Heitor dared to look into his sister''s eyes. His skin was a sickly white, and his beard and brown hair were in wild disarray. "I don''t deserve-" "Stop crying about it, and do something! So you are angry? Mad? Or perhaps, even sad and tired?" She stood up from the floor, "The world doesn''t give a damn, you are on your own down here." Going back to the inky darkness of the tunnels, she continued, "If you are angry about what is happening, then transform that into your drive. Let that move you forward instead of mourning over it." "There is no way I can get out of here, and the book isn''t showing anything new with these small sacrifices. Can''t you understand, there''s nothing I can do!" He angrily threw a rock at Agatha, which stood still, uncaring about it. The object just flew right through her, falling to the ground unscathed. "Well, if you can''t get out, then lead them in." She spoke as if nothing has occurred. "How?" Simply pointing at Darius''s limp body, she said, "Simple... taunt them." "Fine." He relented before staring at his new titles and peculiarities.
Name: Heitor Lothrod Equipable Surnames: Sewers'' Rodent Age: 17 years Body State: Suffering from several infections and diseases Mental State: Severely Degraded Titles: Leechkin, Mad Man, Karacatoa''s Blessed Child, Highest Bounty, Walking Pestilence, Steel ??Stomach, Dark Dwelling Peculiarities: Strategist, Paranoid, Two Sides of the Same Coin
After days of assuming and trying to understand the contents of those strange words, Heitor came to two discoveries. First, the titles were useful for unlocking new abilities while the peculiarities made who he was - what he was good and bad at. Furthermore, he understood the sewer like it was the back of his hand. For example, he knew that the liquid secreted by the slugs could glue anything, or that the leeches could sense blood from great distances. Likewise, he comprehended why those frogs were so colorful - namely, the more colorful the faster one would die after touching it. Of course, how he discovered all of that could be left to the imagination. "Let them come." His sister muttered with a smile. And thus the reason why the township approved the mercenaries'' request for entering the sewers. Indeed, it worked out without a hitch just as Agatha said, and 4 days later another group was just about to enter his lair. A group formed by 16 adventurers to top it off. Needless to say, Heitor was prepared. "Stay focused, and remember to never stray apart from the others." Their leader said as he took the lead. Aymon was right behind him with his bow drawn and ready to loose an arrow. Tomas was nowhere to be seen in the front lines, instead choosing to stay at the far back. It was pitch black where the sunlight didn''t reach, and the air was damp. Vines stretched across the grey walls into the far distance. It was hard to properly see into the distance, the greywaters didn''t help to reflect the light either. Other than the repelling smell, the place could be a true wonder to explore. The moist walls were filled with green slugs that crawled towards the ceiling. A few rodents ran in between their feet, a few bumping onto them. Meanwhile, leeches made their home close to the bright colored frogs, just by the water shores. To Aymon, it felt like they were slowly losing themselves into a subterranean forest. But then, just as everything looked like an exotic and dazzling undergrowth, the lights disappeared. "Why is it so dark in here?" One of them commented. For some reason, the vines chose to cover the culverts all around the sewer, blocking the sun from outside. Now they were into total darkness with no source of light whatsoever. It was hard to even tell who was behind you. Coupled with the absence of light, they eventually noticed the lack of noise. Nothing outside of their steps made a sound. The frogs stood still in the water, as silent as possible, intently staring at the intruding people. The small rats glanced at them with their unflinching eyelids. Everything was still, just observing them as they made their way further in. Goosebumps crept their skin as they were scrutinized by the sewer creatures while not knowing anymore who was who. Then the stillness broke, aloud splash resoundingacross the whole tunnel as a man was pushed towards the muddy water. Luckily, he knew how to swim so he had no reason to panic other than the pain he felt on his shoulder. Something pierced him at various spots when it bumped into him. "Is everyone okay?!" The leader asked. "Help! Somebody help me!" A slightly unfamiliar shout came from the back, though not from the person who fell onto the water. The entire group went on-guard, trying to discern who they were close too. Their formation broke as they started doubting the ones nearby. On cue, the man dropped into the water started screaming. There were little things trying to pry their way inside his shoulder, just where his blood dripped down. First, he tried to shake away it, but the little creatures would just bite his fingers instead. Then he tried to swim towards the shore, but in total darkness, he lost his sense of direction. More and more bites covered his body, some even landing in his lower parts. "HELP!" He yelled louder, yet nobody gave him ears - they were too busy keeping their lives in check. His shrieks coupled with his struggle in the water made a lot of noise, enough for Heitor to accomplish his objective. Taking out Samuel''s ax, he slashedwith wild abandon. "Retreat! Get back to the light!" Aymon took a rushed decision, completely disregarding the hierarchy. Fear made everyone follow his commands though, leaving behind those hit by Heitor''s mad attacks. Now, it was within his power to kill the few abandoned stragglers. After all, into the realm of no light and sound, Heitor was the strongest. 6. Light "Isake?" A low whimper escaped from Louis''s lips. The floor was cold and moist, he noticed. From his waist down he couldn''t feel or move anything, so his only choice was to drag himself across the mucky ground. While he knew he was there for only a few minutes, in complete darkness and silence it felt more like hours, and with a killing murderer lurking around, he had to find the light as soon as possible. After all, it has been a while since he''d last heard one of his companions - now whoever it was, they were silent. Yet, in the far distance, he started hearing something akin to a slithering slug. It was a wet sound, probably because of the gooey-like skin of the small creature. Though there was an oddness about it. The noise was getting closer and closer, faster than any slug should be capable of. It wasn''t a tiny harmless slug, that''s for sure. To top it off, Louis didn''t even know what was hunting them down. Perhaps, it wasn''t even human, since he couldn''t catch a glimpse at it. His mind, however, imagined various hideous beasts. Hiding in the shadows, he envisioned vicious tentacles emerging from the murky greywaters, slowly inching closer towards the tunnels. It wasn''t a normal living being, not at all. Long bone protrusions rose from its limbs. Its head was still hidden into the limewater, the horrifying shapeless unknown. Louis made his best to stay as quiet as possible, fearing that even the slightest whimper would alert the abyssal demon. His heart beat so hard that he could hear a deep throbbing noise in his ears. His mind couldn''t, no matter what, imagine the rest of its body, as if it was out of Louis'' comprehension. Maybe it had been living in there before those cryptic tunnels were built, or even before the city was established. Its shape didn''t remind of any creatures he had ever seen so far, coming from a distant past when humans didn''t exist. One of the behemoths of nature which befell into a deep slumber. Facing such an abyssal and ancient being, Louis forgot how to properly talk or make noises. In front of it, any alive being primal instinct is to hide after all. Suddenly, he saw the sunlight in the far distance. The rest of his teammates were there as well, resting sound and safe. Immediately, he fastened his pace, crawling towards it. But the thing heard his struggles, its spiky tentacles slithering quicker. Just as he was about to reach them, his legs were enveloped by the sickening appendages, being pierced by its sharp bones. It hurt like hell, but he didn''t yell or cry. With rising dread, he tried calling his friends, but the words just wouldn''t come out. He screamed once more as he was dragged back into the soundless abyss, but his body didn''t follow his orders. His mouth closed shut, refusing to produce any sound. "Shhhh." A deep voice permeated him, rattling his very bone marrow. Immediately, another tentacle wrapped around his neck, ending his life. "Those frogs are no joke." Heitor said as he stared at the struggling Louis. His body twitched as he screamed for help to no one in particular. "It was a great idea to use their venom in the ax, good job." Agatha complimented him as she kneeled close to Louis, observing him, "Is the book still with you?" "Of course." He said before laying it beside the man. Seconds later of a horror show, Heitor finally got what he wanted. "Finally." Agatha muttered. Choose carefully, for our decisions form who we are.
Abilities:
Mana Manipulation - [Rank D] Requirements: None Since the early ages, humans strived for survival. Nature wasn''t amicable for their frail like, and so they resorted to the arcane arts. By wielding the invisible energies, their hegemony was soon solidified. Nevertheless, they''ve become arrogant and weak throughout the eons, forgetting the true behemoths and titans of the world.
Powerful Blow - [Rank D] Requirements: None Those who weren''t capable of wielding the arcane could only resort to their body strengths, pushing their limits to the very extreme in order to deal a decisive blow when in dire situations.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.
Higher Immunity - [Rank D+] Requirements: Walking Pestilence, Steel Stomach What doesn''t kill you, only makes you stronger.
Dark Vision - [Rank F] Requirements: Dark Dwelling Casten away into the abyssal depths and lightless caves, creatures that dwell in the dark slowly adapted to the lack of sunlight. Beware though, for those who choose to live without the sun won''t be able to endure it when out of their lairs.
Staring at his options, Heitor deduced, "So, basically, if I choose Dark Vision I won''t be able to see when in bright places?" "Yeah, pretty much it. That''s the worst option you could pick." Agatha replied. "Then..." He muttered while tapping his fingers on the floor, "That leaves me with Higher Immunity and Mana Manipulation. Well, the correct choice is obviously Higher-" "Wait!" She held Heitor''s hand back, somehow physically touching him, "You should take the Mana Manipulation one." "What? Why? This way I can stop worrying about the multitude of diseases I get on a daily basis. How''s that the wrong option? It even has a higher rank." He tilted his head, not understanding her reasoning. "You can heal yourself anyway, so there is no use to it. You are only looking for the short term bonus." She let go of his hand, "You are weak, and need more tools to survive. Being more resistant to things won''t help you much at fighting others." "So let''s assume I do what you are saying... where will I learn how to cast spells?" He asked. "Do you trust me?" She asked back. "I do." "Then do as I say." She turned her back on him, slinking back to the wall. Clicking his finger onto the odd flying letters, he did as asked. Immediately, he felt something move inside of him. It crept between his organs before ultimately resting upon his belly button region. "Fuc-" His sister dropped stiff to the ground, her whole body shaking as she hissed in pain. Before Heitor could even stand up to help her, he fell down as well. His insides were being carved, almost like a lightning opening every inner crevice, creating uncountable pathways throughout his entire system. Soon, both were unconscious. Only an hour later did they wake up. Coming back from unconsciousness was an unusual feeling for them. At first, one finds himself or herself in total darkness but doesn''t ask how they got their or when. Their mental faculties aren''t totally working, so for a while, they just stay there - in fulfilling peace. But that can''t last forever and soon they startle awake from their deep slumber. The first thing that Heitor took note of was the pressure of energy within his body. It vibrated all around him. "Agatha?" He asked out loud his first concern. "I''m here." She said from his back. Turning around, shock hit him as he stared at his sister. Her previously ethereal blue eyes now shined in the dark and her hair flowed freely in the air, unbound by gravity. It was as if she wasn''t from this world. "What has gotten to you?" She asked him. He stopped staring before replying, "Nothing." "Good, we have work to do. They should come back by tomorrow, and I don''t think they won''t bring torches this time, even if dangerous." She walked towards him with a smile plastered on her lips, "Is time for some trial and error." "Where do we begin?" He asked. Meanwhile, the mercenaries sat in the formed camp outside. The mood was gloomy and nobody felt like talking. There were less 5 people in their group, and they couldn''t even see who or what was their assailant. Not only did they fail in their mission, but they also lost a few of their comrades. "I''m done." One of them declared to Reynold before making his way back to the city. Reynold just remained silent. A few more left as well, saying sorry as they departed. The previously guaranteed money now seemed more like a suicide mission. Better be poor than dead, they thought. Just as everyone who feared for their lives left, Reynold finally opened his mouth, "Is there anyone else who doesn''t want to continue?" The remaining 7 people shook their heads vehemently. "Good, I can''t have cowards amongst my men." He spat onto the floor, "But outside from cowards, I can''t have people who can''t properly follow my orders as well, is that clear?" He asked while glancing at Aymon. "Yes." He and the others replied with a firm voice. "Rest for now then, we will come back here tomorrow at dusk. Bring torches, let''s see if that bastard can sneak on us then." He went inside the encampment''s main tent, probably reporting what happened to the guards. Aymon promptly left, going back to the city''s inn. The sun settled behind a distant hill, and soon it disappeared. For some unknown reason to him, his pace naturally quickened as night befell on his surroundings. The trees ominously swayed in the wind, its leaves rattling loudly. And at times he would look behind to assure that no one was following him or hiding behind the tortuous black trees. Shaking his head, he couldn''t believe he was still scared after the whole affair. He just couldn''t, not after what had happened. "Tomas..." He muttered with low casten eyes. Tomas was no more, just like that, in a snap of fingers. He was his closest friend and yet, he lost him. They shared the dream of being adventurers, to gain their keep as they traveled all around the world - no matter the team they were in, they stood together. Their last one, however, was wiped out. It didn''t hurt, but it was a good excuse for entering Reynold''s party. Nonetheless, it appeared that they bit on more than what they could chew. Now, all he wanted to do was to drink and waste the night with Rosaline. From all the things that happened so far, she was the best thing to have occurred to him. Perhaps being an adventurer wasn''t for him at the end, to risk his life on an everyday basis. At least Tomas'' death served as a wake-up call for him. Because sooner or later it would be him under the grave instead. After minutes of a silent walk, he reached the tavern at last. The first thing he paid attention to was Rosaline. She had this refreshing smile, the kind of which made one forget about his problems and nightmares. Aymon finally decided on his future course. First, avenge Tomas. Then claim his bounty share and live his life peacefully in Northwood with Rosaline. It seemed like the perfect plan. 7. Destiny As night came, all the mercenaries were asleep already. Reynold was the sole one still awake, using time as best as he could to plan and prepare himself. This mission meant everything for him, he couldn''t fail again. After all, since little, his mind was filled with dreams of grandeur and a magnanimous future. Not sure from where this obsession came from, he nevertheless kept focused on his path to greatness. It wasn''t about the money, not at all, what most mattered to him was the fame. To be a memorable person, a legend amongst common men. That''s why, when the chance to capture a renowned criminal befell onto his hands, he felt like the heavens have bestowed their blessing on him. Being the superstitious man that he was, he had the belief that he was born with a destiny of glory. So when they failed in the first delve into the sewers, he couldn''t believe it. How could he fail? Wasn''t he supposed to be victorious? More and more doubts surged in his mind as his subordinates gave up on the bounty. How could they? It was a clear sign of insolence and betrayal to him. It wasn''t about the fear for their lives, not for Reynold. For him, it was the affirmation that they didn''t trust his leadership. And the cherry of the cake... Aymon. He dared to lead his lackeys, to disrupt his authority. "What do you take me for?" Reynold spat on the mirror as he envisioned Aymon''s death. In his devious plans, it seemed a flawless crime. Killed by the Sewers'' Rodent, who could shift the blame to Reynold? He was sure he could perform it without a hitch, it wouldn''t be his first victim after all. A smile crept up to his face as he stared at the mirror, there he saw images of a successful man being applauded by a huge crowd. While his underlings were worried about getting the money, Reynold''s concerns were well out of everyday life, of the material world. Moreover, being the son of a lesser noble, it didn''t matter to him anyway. "Tomorrow is a big day. Don''t fuck it up." He said to himself before going to his bed. Morning soon came, uncaring about what would happen or what could accur, it just dawned upon Northwood. Curiously, most men woke up with a startle. Sweat bathed them as they stirred from their deepest nightmares - the unknown. Humans'' most primal fear is the foreign, things which their minds can''t comprehend or glimpse. But now, they were probing into a dark place while searching for an unknown enemy - it could be human, or it could be something else altogether. Whatever it was, they didn''t know its shape or face. The only knowledge they had was that it could kill many men at once. It lived in places without light and didn''t emit a sound. Facing a shapeless and lethal being, they struggled to envision it. But they couldn''t come with anything, instead being left with the unnamable and indescribable. "I want the elemental mages prepared for anything. Don''t hesitate in using your spells - be it lightning or fire. Oh, and don''t let under any circumstances the torch''s fire spread." Reynold said to the two young men at the back. Aymon thought about the uncountable possibilities which could go wrong in a moist and highly inflammable place such as a sewer. And yet, he refrained from saying anything. He had already been warned about insubordination. Hopefully, those wizards had some common sense in their head. "I want Lizzie and Piers at the flanks. The mages stay in the middle holding the torches, while cleric Solomon will watch our back." He methodically ordered them, analyzing their weak spots and weaknesses. Tilting his head, Aymon asked confused, "What about me?"If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "You stay by my side, at the front lines." He smirked. They promptly marched into the sewers, carefully taking their steps towards the center. Every single one of them had a reason for their voyage into the cryptic structure, though most didn''t have a noble cause like Aymon did. Greed was the moving force of humankind after all, even in the direst situations. Heitor wasn''t an exception to the rule as well. He wanted power, power so he could stop crawling on the floor and instead walk without fear. Truthfully, even Aymon wasn''t an exemption. He could very well find a job in Northwood and still live a quiet life with Rosaline. Tomas'' death would be avenged no matter the case if he was there or not. No, he was putting himself at risk for the money. And deep inside he knew it. Holding out his hand, Reynold said, " We will clear this section of the tunnels first." Pointing at two tunnels he commanded with a low voice, "I want one mage at each team. Aymon, you come with me. The others go right." Immediately, they efficiently sorted themselves, no questions asked. When with the light to unravel the dark, it all worked without a mishap. Heitor didn''t have a chance to ambush or sneak into their ranks. Fortunately or unfortunately, that wasn''t his plan in the first place. An hour passed as they mechanically searched all tunnels next to the exit. For a slight moment, it occurred to them the thought that who they were looking for wasn''t there anymore. It was for a single bit though. Reynold heard a light scurry of feet in the wet ground, sounding in the far distance. Putting his finger onto his lips, he motioned to the noise''s direction. Aymon understood what he meant and started following it. Just like their counterparts, the slugs and frogs, they continued silent. Aymon felt that the more they got closer to it, the more they were being lead into a trap. There was this conflict in his mind - while his gut feeling told him he should warn the others, his pragmatic side told otherwise. It should be fear playing games with him, always proposing the worst of possible outcomes. Shaking his head, he focused on making no sounds. Then, in a far-off flickering light, they saw a human silhouette leaning onto the wall. It was him - they assumed. As slowly as humanly possible they approached the man from behind. When just a few meters away, Aymon let loose an arrow right at his expose nape, and it hit. He fell to the floor like a ragdoll. They immediately ran towards his body to confirm the death. "What?" Reynold muttered as he rounded around the body. It was Louis'' body. Well, what remained of it at least. Something seemed to have sucked him dry, and now slugs covered him. Some even slithered inside his throat, delving into the unexplored. Furthermore, they discovered the source of the flickering light. The rest of their group was lead there as well. "You too?" Solomon asked with rising dread. They willingly walked right into a trap. By then, Aymon''s gut was screaming at him to do something. Out of nowhere, the air shifted and the torches lit brighter. The flames rose into the air, never seeming to stop. Finally, with a pit in his stomach, Aymon realized their mistake. They''ve brought light to a place where no light was permitted, and now they would pay for it. What was their advantage would instead be their downfall. Heitor hid in the greywaters, just close enough to be able to control the torch''s blaze. It only took a slight push for the flames to go out of control. Aymon and Reynold acted as fast as they could, running towards safety. Yet, it was too late. Quick chemical reactions happened between the sewer gas and the fire, resulting in a thunderous explosion. The first ones to be engulfed by the fire were the elemental mages holding the torches. Next were Lizzie, Piers, and Solomon. Aymon and Reynold who were just seconds away from the water were rocketed towards the walls. Luckily, their limp bodies fell in the water before the flames reached them. Falling into the dirty water, conscious failed them. Heitor swam towards them, dragging them to the shore. "Perfect." He said out loud, his sister appearing from a nearby wall. "Do you think these sacrifices will do?" She asked as she stared at the charcoal remains. Laying the book on the floor, he innocently shrugged his shoulders, "Let''s find out." Immediately, they got their answer. No. Karacatoa only accepted blood. "Well, at least we have one right there." Agatha said while pointing at Reynold, "That one is already awake." "Oh, that''s too bad." Heitor sighed before going towards him. Reynold tried crawling but his legs were broken. Tears falling from his soken eyes, he couldn''t believe what was about to happen. His death would be by the hands of a madman who talked to himself, in an unremarkable filthy sewer. He wasn''t destined, he finally discovered the shocking truth. With time, he would wither away from history into insignificance, just like a penniless farmer. His existence would be remembered by no one. He was just a speck of dust in the great scheme of things. Instantly, he stopped struggling. He stared at the floor as he realized his nothingness. Why even struggle? In the end, he would continue to be a blank spot in the universe. Existence didn''t have meaning or purpose. 8. Deception "Halt!" The captain said as two men emerged from the sewers. It has passed an hour since they last heard the explosion, and since then, the guards created a perimeter around the sewer exit. As the moonlight dawned upon the two human shapes, it revealed that one of them was unconscious, being dragged by the other. "Bring them to the barracks." He ordered the guards. Immediately, the mercenaries were rescued and put under treatment. A cleric was carried with the task of checking on any wounds or fractures they could have sustained. "Please raise your arms-" Before she could finish though, the mercenary interrupted her. "I''m fine Ma''am. I was lucky to be far from the blast at the time." He said with low-casten eyes, refraining from raising his head, "I must go to the city. A close friend of mine has just passed away, and I need to bring the news to his family." He muttered. "Oh- I see. I''m sorry for your lost." She replied. There was something fishy about his manners but she reasoned it should be the trauma. As a cleric, she was used to seeing traumatized soldiers. Either because of being close to death or seeing someone they knew die, most would close themselves from the outside world. It was a miracle if they could speak a whole sentence like he just did. Being allowed to go out, the man immediately ran towards the city. His steps were strangely light and unrestrained like he was dancing. In the middle of his way, he changed his course to the woods instead. Finally, when he thought he was far enough, he dared to raise his head. Staring at his shadow, he spoke, "You can come out." A female silhouette formed, surging from his shadows. An ethereal beauty appeared in the forest, lightly stepping on the moist grass. Breathing in a deep gust of air, she sighed, "Ah... fresh air." "Tell me about it!" Heitor dropped to the ground without a care in the world. He breathed as if it was the most precious thing he could have. "It smells so nice out here..." He muttered as he stared at the stars above. In the infinite expanse of the void, millions of stars were embedded within - there was a perfect balance about it that Heitor couldn''t quite put into words. The trees swayed peacefully in the wind, living by the eons in perpetual silence. Never before had Heitor seen the world with such wonder. Living two weeks in the sewers with no light whatsoever did that to someone. Not only that but he could now sense the mana. And it was stunningly complex. It flowed like a rushing and yet calm stream. Everything was in sync with the river - the trees, dirt, wind, Heitor, Agatha... Anything other than the book. In contrast, it instead felt like a void - a bottomless pit leading to gods know where. Something out of that world, alien and unexplainable. Just when Heitor thought he could understand the universe, it was just a glimpse at most. There were things out of his grasp after all, out of the intelligible. Lying beside him, Agatha said, "You are not ready yet." "I know." He nodded, they knew her revenge would have to wait, "Then what should I do for now?" "Train and learn. Your best bet is the capital." She suggested before glancing at him, "But before that, you need to change that appearance of yours." "And what do I look like?" He asked. "Like a sick mongrel." She replied with a straight face. "I guess its time for some hunting, then." He said before standing up from the ground. Grasping at the hilt of his iron sword, he searched for prey. The dark didn''t stutter him, but rather worked on his favor.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Meanwhile, Aymon just woke up. His whole body hurt like hell, probably broken at many different parts. Immediately, the cleric held him back onto the stretcher. "Don''t make sudden moves. You don''t want to break yourself even further, I imagine." She said before grabbing a concoction from a nearby table, "Here, drink it. It will make the pain go away." Staring at the potion in doubt, he took a few seconds to finally accept it. "Thank you." He said to the strange woman. "Now, the captain wants to ask you a few questions. I am sure you wouldn''t mind." She promptly exited the tent. On the very next second, a tall man clothed in full armor entered in. "Good night, sir Aymon. My name is Captain Geralt, but you should know that by now." He sat on a plain wood chair before beginning the questioning, "I would like to ask you some questions about what happened in the sewer. Namely, the whereabouts of the man we are looking for." "Wait, how did I even survive?" There was no way he could survive an explosion like that after all. "A companion of yours dragged you out of there." Geralt said as a matter of fact. Frowning, Aymon asked, "Who?" "Didn''t say his name, he went to the city as soon as possible. Something about bringing the bad news." A slight scowl crossed his face as well, "The cleric allowed him to go before I could even question the man." With rising dread, Aymon quickly realized what had just transpassed. They''ve been tricked - and all because no one other than the innkeeper knew Heitor''s face traits properly. Now, it seemed that only he reached that conclusion. The idea that Heitor sneaked right under Geralt''s nose didn''t even cross his head. Aymon had two choices at the moment, to either tell the truth or follow along with the deception. If he chose the latter, he would enjoy the spoils of war alone and let his best friend''s murderer run away. Ultimately, it was a matter of how high he valued his morals. He could either try to avenge Tomas - which would be meanless anyway. After all, there was nothing to gain from revenge other than spirit satisfaction. On the other hand, he could grasp at that chance to guarantee a good future for himself. Prosperity and wealth for the rest of his life. Even though it hurt his pride to admit, the correct choice was obvious. But in moments like that, anyone swallows their pride in the end. Gulping, he said, "The damn bastard blew himself, all that is left now are his cinders. He didn''t want anyone to touch the book, so his only choice was to pulverize it." He evaded Geralt''s eyes, afraid that he would be seen through. Writing something on a sheet of paper, Geralt seemed appalled, "What a madman." He believed it. Days later, all around the countryside, disfigured animals started appearing close to the farms. Their bodies were either sucked dry or filled with small holes. At first, the farmers tried blaming the wolves. But it just didn''t add up. After all, sword cuts were common marks they always found. Perhaps the ones at fault were goblins. Yet still, how and why would they suck all the blood of the animals? Their old-fashioned traditions could only resort to one answer - it was the works of a demon. Probably a starving vampire, nonetheless. Thus, the reason for Heitor''s new nickname - Springsby Grove''s Bloodsucker.
Name: Heitor Lothrod Equipable Surnames: Sewers'' Rodent, Springsby Grove''s Bloodsucker Age: 17 years Body State: Healthy Mental State: Degraded Titles: Leechkin, Madman, Karacatoa''s Blessed Child, Dead Man, Walking Pestilence, Mage, Dark ??Dwelling, Survivor, Steel Stomach Peculiarities: Strategist, Paranoid, Two Sides of the Same Coin
"I wonder what use these surnames have... are they there just to mocker me?" He said sarcastically as he glanced sideways at the flying screen. Yet somehow, he felt pride when reading those words. It served as a constant reminder of his victory over the impossible odds. Who could''ve thought that the coward and weak Heitor would be capable of outrunning an entire city? And to deceive his way to freedom? Or to survive two straight weeks in a sewer without proper food or water? If someone were to say those things to the old Heitor, he probably wouldn''t believe it. But it was all true, and he felt more self-esteem than ever before. So much that it could be dangerous. A huge ego won''t protect him from a sneaky arrow or a devastating spell after all. Arrogance is a slow and insidious killer, and the capital would make sure to remind him of that. Now a new man, with a shaven beard and hair, he set his way to the heart of the kingdom. There were no traces of the sewer left behind in him - not even its stench. "Emberfall..." He muttered the city''s name, wondering how it could be. Was it like how most people said? A thriving city, full of people and merchants? Or was it a filthy city, overpopulated and brimming to the very top? Perhaps, it was a place where all the great artisans and architects gathered to search and exchange knowledge. Furthermore, it could be a city made for teaching and grooming mages. But as Heitor would discover later on, Emberfall could be everything at the same time. A chaotic capital filled with people in search of knowledge and money. A place where corruption was one of its major problems, but its economy was just as flourishing. From the great schools of magic to the lowlife guilds, a city was at its heart a reflection of society as a whole - both its bad and good sides. It was a marvel how such a chaotic environment could seem to be so organized from the outside. 9. Emberfall Emberfall, the city of dreams, or as some would say, the city of opportunities. Contrary to most towns in the kingdom of Altroz, its capital was a place brimming with people and progress. At night one could be a small merchant, but on the very next day, they could ascend to a prominent tycoon - what mattered most was choosing wisely your allies, and even more importantly, staying closer to one''s enemies. Likewise, someone could lose everything in a single night as well. It only took a slight sneer or rude comment misplaced at the wrong person. It is as the folk said, where money flows, so does blood. At the far distance, crossing the wheat farms and erected mills, a lone traveler approached the city. The first thing he noticed from the top of "his" horse were the intimidating walls that surrounded the capital. They almost dominated the horizon, casting a foreboding shadow over the plain hills. Perhaps, if he still were the old-him those walls would sparkle a sense of security onto him. Now, however, all he saw was an intimidating umbra engulfing the meadow. The roads were filled with wagons and travelers, and all of them had a single desire at the moment: to enter Emberfall. Sentries were scattered around the main gate, tasked with inspecting anyone who wanted to access the city. Promptly, Heitor reached the guards. "I.D card." The guard extended his hand, expecting something which Heitor clearly didn''t have. "I''m new to the capital." He said as a matter of fact. Finally raising his head to stare at Heitor, the man muttered with an annoyed tone, "Then you will be required to create an identification card, please follow me." Getting down from his horse, Heitor closely followed the supervisor. They entered a windowless building, with no sunlight peeking into it. The only source of light came from an odd-looking ball at the ceiling, a pale color pouring over the room. "Please sit there and look up here." He said while pointing at a bench, almost like reading through a script. Steering clear from exploring the place, Heitor did just as asked. Then, out of thin air, a white veil blinked into existence. The veil seemed to cover someone''s hand which gently flicked across a white canvas. Moments later, his I.D was done - his face engraved in it. Curiously, at times his painting would move slightly like it was alive. "Here it is." The man approached Heitor before continuing, "It will be a silver coin." "Tsk, what a shakedown." He heard Agatha whisper from his shadow. On this matter, he had to agree though. The monetary system was simple enough - 1 gold coin was equal to 10 silver coins, and so did silver to copper - while a GR was something out of the norm, being valued on land properties and rights. But it didn''t matter, Heitor had no say on the situation. Such was the power of public positions. Moreover, he had to lay low for a while. Frowning, the man repeated himself, "1 silver is the city''s tax for new visitors." Raising her eyebrows just as high, Agatha replied, "Yeah, sure it is." Clearing his throat, Heitor quickly said, "Luckily sir, I just have a silver coin in my pocket." He glanced sideways at Agatha. His message was clear. The old man took a few steps back from Heitor as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. From all of his experiences thus far, this traveler was the most unique one he had come across.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Taking a coin from his "pouch", Heitor said with a smile, "Here you go." His hand thought otherwise though, instead holding the coin for dear life. The guard sweated buckets of salty water as he tried to shake away from Heitor''s iron grip. Then he heard the madman talk alone again, "Agatha-" The traveler whispered at his shadow, "Let it go." Finally, he relented, letting go of the coin. The supervisor didn''t waste a heartbeat to cast out Heitor from the station. "Make sure to enjoy your stay, sir." Was the last thing he said before hurriedly going back to the inspection line. As Heitor and Agatha went past the iron gates, the city''s true beauty revealed itself. There wasn''t a single spot they could found that was out of place. It seemed like everything felt just right, in perfect harmony and symmetry. The buildings were packed together, with branching alleys forming a web across the whole city. Nearby, they could hear the sound of a legion being trained. The voice of a commander sounded in the distance - how he was so loud was outside of Heitor''s current comprehension. The barracks were the first thing one would perceive - a smart move, as Agatha would point out. Not only would the soldiers be prepared to defend Emberfall on a moment''s notice, but it also showed their might to anyone prone at resorting to illegal activities. The main avenue disappeared into the background, apparently endless. Likewise, the number of merchants and commoners was just as unending - coming to the point of brimming the streets to the very top. The more Heitor walked along the avenue, the more stores appeared. There were all sorts of shops - including potions, armor, clothes, weapons, and general goods. As should be expected, the noise was just as loud. He could hear both the laugh of children and the yells of unshameful traders. Mixed in the crowd, it was possible to spot out a few musicians as well. All in all, the city was lively, that''s for sure. "At least that''s not a deterrent to her." He muttered as he stared at his sister slinking through the shadows of people and alleys. His next set of actions was going towards the mage academy to search for tutoring courses. His sole objective in the city was self-improvement after all. "Altroz Mage Academy, here I come." He said with enthusiasm. *** "So... let me get this straight," Heitor pinched his eyebrows in distress as he spoke, "A basic class of 2 hours costs at the very least 1 silver coin. And that program only covers, at most, primary mana manipulation." "That''s correct." The clerk replied in a bored tone. It wasn''t the first time he had to deal with commoners, not at all. Every once in awhile a nobody who thought he could learn spell casting on a whim showed up. Which was quite ridiculous considering the state of things such as they were. Not only were people who were capable of controlling their mana rare, but there was also an abysmal social gap in mage grooming. Wizardry teaching was, perhaps, considered the finest and most noble job there was, only available to those of the upper class. Hence, the high price should be of no surprise. "Great," Heitor said as he exited the Academy. "What now?" Agatha asked from behind. Shrugging his shoulders, Heitor replied, "I honestly don''t know. My whole plan went down the drain just like that. Those few... convenient encounters in the roads aren''t enough to cover the cost." "It''s a big city, so stop thinking so small." She playfully said as she circled him, "You still didn''t visit the guilds. Maybe even the barracks could prove to be useful." Smiling, he said, "I don''t know what I would do without you." As he walked through the streets and alleys, one thing he noticed was the way people gave a wide berth to him, and the way they stared - like he was a lunatic. Surprisingly, it was quite good actually - that way he had a free pass across the crowd. Obviously, his odd behavior soon attracted unwanted attention. Hiding in the alleys, on top of roofs, and in the middle of the crowd, the unsavory kind of individuals observed Heitor''s casual walk. They came from all corners of the city - the Quiet Knife''s Guild, Rising Aphoteia''s followers and even the lowlifes of the Valedorian Thieves'' Guild. Emberfall''s hidden powers were all present, ready to pull their strings and schemes. But no matter who or where they were from, everyone had the same reason to being there - to recruit. That''s why spies infested the streets of Emberfall, acting as another reality inside its energetic avenues and alleys. Their line of work had something in common, after all. It required a little bit of insanity to carry out their dirty work. And Heitor seemed to fall just right on the criteria, even if a tad more than they took a liking of. As he entered the Adventurers Guild, so did his pursuers. With measured steps and keen attention, cards were drawn and pieces were played. Now it was a game of waiting for the right opportunity to strike a conversation with him. Little did they know that their very own shadows conspired against them, acting as the eyes and ears of Agatha. Heitor had the upper hand since the beginning. 10. Silence Silent glares and soundless threats - there was much more to a conversation than the words spoken. Realistically speaking, words were no more than means to an end; the main point behind a social interaction was the intent behind it. It could be a simple objective such as furthering one''s relationships, or not. In the majority of cases though, the intent was much deeper and complex than that. Such was Heitor''s current situation. At a far corner in the guild, he sat alone, waiting. Likewise, his pursuers sat by themselves in their own corners, observing his actions. He knew they were following him, and they knew that too. Now, it was a matter of patience which decided who would be able to talk to him first. Landing his eyes on one of them, he decided who was the lucky one. The stranger nodded before walking towards Heitor. Her competitors bore their eyes on her back, a murderous intent oozing from their glare. Sitting opposite to him, she politely asked, "Excuse me, sir, do you mind?" Heitor didn''t utter a sound, but instead stared at her - like she was doing something wrong. What exactly? She had no idea. Painfully slow seconds dragged themselves as both stayed silent. Then it clicked - she still had her hood on. Pulling it back, she let her blonde hair fall loose. For a slight moment, Heitor was stunned. She had bewitching almond-shaped green eyes, with a scar running down her right cheek. There was a sharpness about her demeanor, like she was on the razor''s edge constantly. Flashing a smile, he said, "That''s better. Now... might you tell me why you and your friends were following me?" Tapping her fingers on the table, she remained quiet. The man was dangerous - she realized. Dealing with someone aware of his surroundings was way trickier than those who were oblivious. She had to seize the opportunity to recruit him before the others got to him or he to them. And of course, stating that they weren''t her companions would put her at disadvantage. "We''ve been looking for recruits for our guild, the Quiet Knife, and you seem to be a perfect candidate." She opened her arms to emphasize her point, "So, what do you say?" Short and brief, the perfect strategy for acquiring a new trainee. Tilting her head, Agatha asked, "Then they are your friends, why don''t you invite them to sit?" Immediately, a frown formed on her eyebrows. As a recruiter, she had come across all sorts of people, and she was a good judge of character. Heitor had something wrong with him, but much worse than simply talking alone. For a flimsy moment, his whole behavior changed. It was almost like another person inhabited his body. His posture straightened itself, his voice alternated to a lower pitch, and his facial expressions took a 180 degrees shift. The worst part of it all was the gleam in his eyes - it was as cold and lifeless as those of a doll, or a dead body. Biting her tongue, she wore her confident expression back. But it was too late already, he had completely seen through her facade - the others weren''t her friends. Gesturing to them, he made sure his message passed across - come and sit here, he told them without words. They promptly replied by going towards his table. Just as they were settling down though, Heitor reached out to grip the arm of one of the men.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "That place is occupied." He said, barely keeping his strength in check. The man also drew his dagger, going for his neck without hesitation. The other two pointed their weapons at the man as well. Instantly, the whole Guild looked over to their spot. No one voiced a single letter, ready to kill at any given time. A thin line of blood slid down Heitor''s neck. That dagger sure was sharp. After short but tense seconds, the blonde finally spoke, "Everyone will sheath their weapons back." She stared at the others before continuing, "We are making a scene here." Steadily they eased their grip on their weapons, and Heitor let go of the man''s arm with a smug smile plastered on his face. The cloaked man chose to forget about Heitor - there were always people out there willing to be recruited. "Now... where were we?" Agatha asked while using the table''s towel to wipe off Heitor''s blood. "Oh yes, the introductions!" Heitor answered her, slightly startling them, "Hi, my name is Heitor. How should I call you?" "You can call me Bella." She replied, trying her best to smile but failing miserably. Even though she was an assassin, she couldn''t help but feel uneasy around him. It felt like he could snap at any point, being the unpredictable and unreasonable person that he appeared to be. Normally, she was used to working in controlled environments, so the lack of predictability left her unsettled. "And I am Percival." The other one answered, still wearing his hood. Narrowing his eyes, Heitor muttered under his breath, "Fake names?" He asked nobody as he leaned more to his left side, like someone whispered into his ear, "Doesn''t matter." He nodded. "So - why are you two following me?" He finally asked, "And you better tell the truth." This time Bella couldn''t lie that Percival was her companion. She was totally outmaneuvered. "I come from the Valedorian Thieves'' Guild, and I am here for the same reason as her." Smiling, Heitor asked, "So what are your job proposals? The next few hours could only be described as a job interview; in which instead of the candidate trying to get the job, it was the recruiter who sought to get the applicant. In the end, the correct choice was pretty clear. Although the Quiet Knife didn''t offer much money, they had their own tutoring course which included both magic and combat training. Not only that, but he had managed to arrange a special clause in his contract - his targets'' bodies were his to do whatever he fancied. Both exited the Adventurers'' Guild, Bella escorting him to the Quiet Knife''s hideout. As they treaded through the narrow alleys in perpetual silence, she started regretting her decision. Was it the right choice to recruit Heitor? Of course, it wasn''t every day she found someone capable of smiling when with a dagger on their neck. He had the guts for the job, that''s for sure, but should he be trusted? He didn''t exude a sense of reliability - he looked more like the type of person who did things on a whim, without a care for the consequences. And that was only the tip of the iceberg of her concerns. After all, what was he going do with a human body? To defile a dead corpse was well outside of a normal assassin''s behavior. No... it was more aligned with those who had a thirst for blood, and the ones who performed dark rituals and sacrifices. Who was to say when the Guild would become his next target? Should they train someone like that? Should they trust their back to him? Nevertheless, it didn''t matter for now, because those answers could only be answered with time. What was done was done. The further they went inside the city, the dirtier the streets became, almost like a different place altogether from the dazzling capital. A few beggars wandered through those branching alleys, always asking for a penny when possible. The smell was a disgusting mixture between shit and garbage, blending in with the petty scenery. Even Bella who knew the streets with the back of her hand couldn''t stand the stench. Heitor, on the other hand, almost felt at home - in his own convoluted way. Yet another question to her notebook of misgivings about him. Finally, they arrived at the Quiet Knife. Even Heitor recognized it, being the sore spot that it was. It was built at the end of an alley; its walls were composed of dark oak, and the whole structure took a liking to support columns and high ceilings. All in all, it reminded a lot or a church, except for the engraving in its front stone doors - a vicious snake coiling around a long knife. There was a carving indicating where one should put their hands. "Welcome to the Quiet Knife." She said while putting her palm over the door. Instantly, the doors slid aside as a mesmerizing light traveled across its surface. Classic chandeliers decored the ceiling, casting their light onto the place. It looked more akin to a tavern than an assassin hideout. People laughed and drank inside, enjoying the food offered by the chefs. But then, just as Heitor entered the establishment, everyone quieted down. "You still have to prove your worth before being admitted. Until then, you are a stranger in here." Bella''s voice broke the stillness of the Guild, "You start today at night. Talk to Bruce, he will handle your first contract." "Good luck, newblood." She concluded before leaving him by himself. 11. Life Night fell upon the capital, the sun leaving Emberfall behind into darkness. Almost like a switch, the streets and alleys were emptied of people - no sounds of children or merchants anymore. The wind was loud and uncaring, rustling the leaves and dust of the old city. If it wasn''t obvious enough, then the positioned guards were - one shouldn''t dwell alone around those back alleys and secluded roads. Somehow, the soldiers and criminals agreed on a mutual pact without even talking - the night was theirs to rule, while the day belonged to the law enforcement. But, at the end of the day, the city functioned in harmony that way. Inside one of the houses in the noble district, an old father rushed to the kitchen. "Grab 2 plates, Edward!" His wife, Janet, shouted from the dining room, "Oh, and don''t forget the cutlery!" "Leave it to me!" He excitedly replied. Today was his birthday, and his son, Edmund, would be visiting them. As an old couple, they mostly stayed at home alone, so a little visit was always a good surprise. Even more so after Edmund married. Since then, he hadn''t spent a single evening with them or even sent letters. It sure made them sad, but they understood him nonetheless. It was tough creating a family, and they could only be left behind with time. Alas,for an unknown reason, Edmund promised to appear at his birthday - and they were ecstatic about it. Promptly, the table was arranged and filled with food for their guests. All sorts of delicacies were prepared by Janet, the cook of gods according to Edward. The night sky was just beautiful for the occasion, the full moon''s glow coming through the windows. A fresh smile intoxicated their faces while their limping figures stood by the front door, waiting for their son. Minutes passed and no signs of him or his wife.Their smiles withered, and they went back to the dining room. "Did he forget?" Janet asked as they sat alone in the long dish table. They had prepared everything for the night, and yet the cautiously cooked food would be wasted. Edward didn''t reply to her. Smiling weakly, he said with his frail voice, "I guess something has come up. Edmund doesn''t have time for his old parents." There was a bitter taste to his words, like he just swallowed a lie. Janet immediately went to his side, her crooked and gnarled arms embracing her husband, "Don''t say those things, I am sure he is just late-" Someone knocked on their door. "See?! I will open it." She practically ran towards the house entrance, defying her very body limits. Just as she was opening it, a fleeting thought crossed her mind - what if it wasn''t her son? It was far gone by the time she pulled the door open though. "Are we late?" Edmund asked with a smile, his wife just behind. "N- no, by all means, please come in. Your father is in the dining room." She said. "Excuse me, Mrs. Lovesproth." Sarah slightly bowed as she entered. "Ah-ah, no need for formalities, just call me Janet, miss." She said to the younger woman, "The house is yours as well." "Old man!" Edmund barged his way into the dining room, instantly hugging his father, "I''ve brought this with me." Under his arm, he carried a sheathed sword. 2 letters were embedded onto the pommel of the blade - E.E, Edward and Edmund initials. For a moment, Edward was speechless. A single tearfelldown his left eye before he quickly wiped it off. "Woah, what was that?" Edmund asked with a grin, "I didn''t know you were the emotional type of guy." "Shut it." He lightly slapped his son''s back, "I can''t believe you''ve brought it - the first weapon we''ve forged together." A nostalgic smile crossed his lips as he inspected the blade.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. "You''ve polished it?" He asked as the edge still shined in the moonlight, "Call me impressed. Anyway, let''s eat! You don''t want your mother''s food to cool down, now do you?" "Of course not, I only came for it!" He joked as everyone joined the table to celebrate. When everyone settled down, Janet said with a loud voice, "To your father! And may this family be always united!" They toasted their drinks with an enthusiastic cheer. Then, lightly tapping on her cup, Sarah stood up to announce, "Actually, I and Edmund also have something to say. Mrs. Loves- Janet and Edward..." A long pause stretched in her speech, "The family will have another member." She declared with an impetuous smile. Both his parents stared dumbly at Sarah, still taking in the news. Finally breaking out of stupor, Janet asked in disbelief, "Then y- you are pregnant?" "Yes, and the priest told me that it will be a boy!" "A boy nonetheless? The gods have blessed us!" Edward said. They toasted once more, this time a tad wilder. The night continued until no one could bear the feast anymore. With their bellies full and sated, they bid goodbye to the old couple. "I want you to keep it." Edmund told his father before handling the sword. Pushing it away, Edward shook his head, "I can''t, it''s yours." "We made it together, so it isn''t mine. Besides, I will take it back someday. All I''m asking is for you to keep it until then." He was just as stubborn - like father like son. After a long discussion, Edward relented at the end. Finally, they left. As they distanced themselves from the house, Edmund suggested to his wife, "How about we visit them when John is born?" Smiling, she replied, "Sounds like a great idea." Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes watched as they walked, observing their every single movement. "I can''t do it." The stalker said to himself, "I ain''t doing this." "But what about all those people in the sewer?" He angrilysnapped back. "That''s completely different. Back then, it was either me or them. Now, I would be just killing two innocents." He replied. "And why do you care? Since when do you care?" A strange voice came from deep inside him, memories of a long-forgotten tragedy playing in his mind. "If you can''t even kill a couple, then howwill you manage to avenge me? You can''t be weak, that''s a disadvantage - and others will use it against you." She murmuredin his left ear. "I- I can''t do it, Agatha." "That''s why you lose to those monsters from that decrepitproperty- you areno more than a puny human. A human with his useless moral codes and hesitation." "I..." "If you can''t do it, then I will." Shewhispered before everything went dark. *** "Where are you going?" Janet asked her husband as he rushed towards the front yard. "I''ve just had a brilliant idea." He answered before doing his best to run. His idea was simple - namely, he wouldn''t keep the sword. Instead, Edmund would keep it to give it to his own son. An heirloom weapon passed from generation to generation - it was simply perfect. Like he was young once again, he ran through the noble district with light feet, rushing across the various manors and stores. In the distance though, he saw a commotion in the middle of the road. Strangely, the torches and lamps were unlit. The only sources of light were the moon and the few torches held by guards. "Stand aside!" One of them yelled at the crowd. Slowing down his pace, Edward peered at the reason for the tumult. Silence. His right hand trembled and the sword fell to the ground. Dropping to his knees, he grasped on his chest. Like all air has left his lungs, no words came out from his lips. Instead, a horrified expression marred his face as a high pitched wail surged from his mouth. It didn''t sound human or even like an animal. Then, in a moment of mental clarity, he mourned, "My son!" There, right in front of his eyes, his son lay on the ground. His body was emaciated to the point of seeing the very bones. By his right side, Sarah was sprawled on the cold floor, her eyes staring at nothing. Her belly sported a slight outline but it was just as cold as the breeze outside. It took hours before Edward stopped weeping - his tears were already shed to the bottom end, and his throat couldn''t ounce a single wail anymore. He was spent. In his haze consciousness, only one question appeared, "who did this..." His wifewent out in the streets, wondering where her husband could be after so many hours. To say that she was worried was an understatement. Just when she thought of calling the guards, she saw him at the far end of the road. He was kneeling in the ground, holding something within his arms. Crisp and tired, all Edward was able to hear was his wife''s frail scream and then a soft thump. He didn''t have the peace of mind to turn around and sooth her, because he himself didn''t know what to do. Her unconscious body was rescued by the guards instead. The breeze rustled his son''s black hair. His lips were blue and dry. Dead. Sarah had many cuts on her, but her skinwas not healing. Dead. The small outline in her belly? Dead. "Who did this..." His voice came out stronger this time as he grasped at the sword on the floor. Instantly, he stood up from the floor. His legs swayed in the air as his body acted by himself. He left his wife with the officers to take care of and went towards the forge of the district. "Take her home, officers." "Yes, sir Edward Lovesproth!" They saluted to him. Almost like a leaf, he let himself be carried by his impulse-momentum. Arriving at the forge, a fire was ignited in the freezing twilight. Sparkles and flames flew in the air as the shadow of a man engulfed the close residences. His hammer hit the metal with a force like never before, stronger than when he was in his prime years. A few people stopped by to stare at his work, clearly impressed by theoldman''s strength. "Why is he back at the forge?" A passerby asked, "Didn''t he retire after the war?" Uncaring about the others, he struck the metal with inhuman precision and agility. It was like something has possessed hiswitheredbody to the sole purpose of reforging that blade. "You will pay." His words weren''t a promise - they were fate.