1 Beginning of the path
When Vilkar woke up he found himself in an unfamiliar room, as he opened his eyes his vision was flooded by a red light whose source was coming from a window beyond in which he saw the moon shining in its crimson brilliance into the room that he currently occupied.
Vilkar rubbed his eyes as to cast away this magnificent illusion in which he found himself as if it was all just a dream. But to his surprise, everything remained the same, unchanged like the picture on the wall beloved for its wonderment and ability to bring to one's imagination of strangeness and unknown.
To his right, Vilkar saw what looked like an engraved work desk made from dark-brown wood. Its intricacies made him think of old Victorian furniture that he saw from time to time on the internet. On it, he could see various objects lying, from pens of a multitude of sizes, inks of different kinds, empty papers prepared to be used, and one closed envelope sealed by wax.
From the middle of the ceiling, all the way to a wall on his left side pipes of copper color with golden patterns were connected to lights, lamps, and heating. The way it walls all connected together made look like a flood of snakes intermingling with each other.
In one of the corners of the room Vilkar could see a full-body mirror with a frame made out of metal with a silver-like color, the frame was also engraved all around with triangular patterns depicting some kind of symbols.
Vilkar himself was lying in a kingsize bed made out of the same dark-brown wood as was desk. His legs were covered with silk sheets with black patterns on their edges. Behind his head was a pillow made of the same material filled with what felt like feathers, which was different from his blanket which felt like sheep's wool.
After momentary bewilderment, Vilkar took a few deep breaths to calm down, "This seems strangely familiar, not experienced before familiar or seen familiar but still familiar..." Vilkar said to himself as it all came to him.
Two distinct floods of memories assaulted his brain bringing excruciating pain, the first and stronger one was his 'own' memories. From his childhood, his friends, family, his growing up until his demise which he could not recall for some reason, not to mention of world in which he found himself right now.
The second wave was memories of the body that he inhabited right now. Those were more tattered in comparison, some were partial others were wholly missing. Thankfully most were still there as was knowledge of Leonies, Intis, and Hermes languages.
"That's good learning three languages would be too much of a headache." Vilkar sighed to himself as the pain started to subside. Leaving him with one of the most important information that he could get, his name.
Hector... Hector Carnivil son of Goerge Carnivil and Aghata Carnivil.
His parents owned a midsize bank which generated good income for them
"Let's see...
His parents died in an accident two years back. Hector was an only child in time of their death so he inherited Bank at the age of twenty. Looking at it now it seems their deaths were somewhat sketchy.
His father was a banker who was hard working and with the help of a few clever investments, he had enough capital to start his own business. He later sold and with the money that he made started his bank. Good for him...
His mother and his father were believers in the god of steam and machinery. That's good their presence in Backlund isn't strongest compared to Godes of Night and Lord of Storms. But still, If I want to become beyonder I have to be careful especially because of Arrodes.
The bank is currently managed by Hector's godfather Victor who is in his late sixties and is preparing to retire. But he postponed his retirement after Hector's parent's accident.
Hector is currently 22 years old. He celebrated his last birthday two months ago. Who knew that they would be his last?
He lives in Vila in West Borough. As an owner of a bank, he has an annual income of around 2500 pounds. This will be useful as Beyonder materials and formulas are costly"
As he tried to stand up from the bed he felt mild discomfort in his chest. When he looked down his breath stopped for a moment as his mind went blank. A gaping hole welcomed his sight where his heart should be.
Vilkar hurriedly ran to the mirror, so fast were his movements that his body with which he was still unfamiliar stumbled and he fell on his knees. But that did nothing to stop him from getting to the mirror even if he was to move on all four.
As he got close he could see how the previously gaping hole started to shrink as the flesh started to connect. It shouldn't surprise him that much as something similar did happen in the story but seeing it with his own eyes was something on a whole other level.
Vilkar could swear that he saw a heart made of chains just beneath yet thin layer of flesh. After it was all but healed Vilkar started to look at his body. Vilkar saw that he was wearing old-style pajamas. He wore an ornate shirt with white and gray stripes and a big hole in his chest area and his pants were pure gray color.
When he saw his new face in the mirror which was comprised of pale skin, pitch black hair, grey pupils, mildly handsome face with somewhat deep features. He smiled and marveled at the feeling of such unfamiliarity.
"So that's Hector, new body, new name..." Vilkar caressed his face inspecting every detail. When he was done he started to look around, looking for any signs of damage. Something that would explain what had happened to the previous owner of the body that he is now residing in.
After looking around the room he found nothing out of the ordinary or anything that was broken which could indicate a struggle.
"It's not like someone just gets their heart ripped out without blood splatter or something..." Vilkar tried to remember but there was just blank emptiness. Even in his memory, everything was the same as before. "Everything except... that letter..."
Vilkar looked at his desk and slowly, more carefully walked towards it. As he was standing over his desk staring at the letter he pondered as to what to do. In the memory he had there was no letter on his desk, so it must hold some significant value.
Of course, he could be wrong and simply not remembering but let's be honest. You will wake up in a different world in a room inside the body of someone else, still having most of their memories but not remembering a letter with your name, your true name which I forgot to mention before 'To Vilkar now Hector from a friend.'
Finally, he raised his hand and reached for it. While holding it in his hands he felt nothing out of the ordinary so he pullet at the wax seal to reveal its content. Glowing symbols of unknown origin and foreign design silently stared at him. As he watched them and tried to read them information started to enter his mind.
"Dear friend, it is our pride and joy that your journey was successful and without any trepidation or interference from local more unsavory vermins.
It is the nature of our protection that your memory has already been affected by our help to shield you from things that would corrupt your being.
Per agreement made by thy own free and unforced will. The journey of thy own choice begins with thy own choices. From the beginning to the end, all of thy choices are 'your' own.
Please go to the basement of the house in which you are currently located.
There you will find more information and requested gift.
Your never existing friend."
Vilkar stopped speaking aloud and his body as if having its string cut dropped down. "What was that..." He said to himself breathing heavily and slightly shaking from losing control of his body.
Only after a few moments of calming down did he stand up at thought about the content of the letter which had disintegrated after being wholly read aloud. In place of what was now a brass key, it looked ancient as if forgotten by the world itself.
Soon after Vilkar started to laugh and walked out of his room. Outside of his room, he saw a dark hallway leading from his room further in. His room was at the end of the hall, the master bedroom he guessed. The floor was decorated with red and gold carpets and on the sides were tables with flowers on top of them.
The walls were painted brown-red color and paintings were hung from them. Some depict people, family portraits Vilkar thought. Others were paintings of forests, gardens, and some even with fruits.
On the ceiling, he saw pipes that led to his room. They traveled to every room. They were everpresent like mold growing on a dead animal.
Vilkar walked silently until he got to the stairs leading down. Then he tried to remember how to get into the basement.
When he entered the basement he felt the temperature dropping. Right before him, he saw the beginning of a wine cellar. And remembered that his father was an avid collector of red wine.
Vilkar felt a stinging pain in his heart as he remembered his father. Those memories weren't his but the original owner of the body. So he shook his head and cast away any residual emotions, and then he moved forward.
After he passed more wine he saw barrels of different types of alcohol. Beer, ale even mead could be found here. Vilkar smiled and decided that he would need to taste-test them, as he liked mead much more than the wine.
Vilkar looked for any signs of a door which he could open with the key he got but found nothing only more alcohol and some spices.
Then he saw an iron door at the end of the basement. Vilkar walked towards it and as he was getting closer he could feel the brass key started to warm up.
When he put the key in the keyhole he heard a clicking sound from the door and the door opened inward on its own.
Behind now opened door Vilkar saw a dimly lit room, the ground and walls were made from pitch black bricks with pale blue symbols carved in them. The ceiling was fully covered by roots or it was made out of roots, Vilkar couldn't tell which one was true.
On the walls he could see moss from which glowing pale white flowers sprouted. Every flower in the room was turned at him as if he was the sun from which they gained nourishment.
In the middle of the room stood a wooden table whose legs were shaped like limbs growing from the ground and on its corners carved eyes stared upward.
On top of the table he could see a small ornate cauldron with nails holding it in place, next to it he could see a pate with dark oily feathers and some kind of liver with purple spots. On the opposite side of the cauldron, he saw a smaller plate with 6 leaves from a tree, and 3 vials filled with various substances. The first was of darker copper color, the second dark red, and the last was filled with blood. Then there was also a small pipette next to the vials.
The last thing that he saw on the table was a sheet of paper right before the cauldron.
As he walked closer to the table flowers followed always staring right at him. When he stood before the table and reached for the papers door leading here shut with a loud bang.
For a moment he thought of running to them but then decided against it, it's not like this would be a trap, not as soon as he came to this world.
And based on the letter that he read before he was meant to come here so he thought that closing the door was meant to give him some privacy. So he started to read the first paper.
"Hello again my friend.
It's good that you made it this far at such short notice. I was slightly worried that you would decide to go to sleep or explore the house and not go here first thing. And there was about a 30 percent chance that certain individuals would feel your presence and well...
No matter all is well so back to the point. As you may have already seen there on the table are ingredients necessary for potion making and to be precise potion sequence 9 criminal. The potion is of your own choice I assure you.
You should already know how to make it and if not well you know what they say, you only live once... even if with beyonders it is not always so.
Lastly when you are finished please leave everything here and exit the room as it will start to fall upon itself and disintegrate
Sequence 9:
main ingredients
1 liver of goat-horned frog
1 feather from oily rooster
supplementary ingredients
70 milliliters of apple juice
6 drops of red wine
6 drops of snake blood
6 leaves of the walnut tree"
"Path of the Abyss..." Vilkar stared at the paper and started to chuckle. Then he sighs and put away the papers.
"Firstly 70 ml of apple juice" Vilkar took the most lag vial and poured its content into the cauldron, careful to not spill anything.
"6 drops of red wine." Then he took a pipette and counted one by one.
"6 drops of snake blood" Vilkar repeated the process as he did with wine. When the liquids combined their combination created murky color.
"Lastly 6 leaves of walnut tree." Vilkar took exactly 6 leaves and dropped them at the same time. As they dropped into the liquid they floated at the top.
While supplementary ingredients at the early stage were ordinary ingredients and there was an acceptable margin of mistake he didn't want to risk it.
"Now the main ingredients. One liver of a goat-horned frog" Vilkar carefully took the spotted liver from the plate and carefully dropped it into the cauldron. When the liver touched the liquid in the cauldron it liquified itself and the leaves, while turning the content of the cauldron black
"Lastly one feather from the oily rooster" As he took the feather he could see black liquid oozing from it staining his fingers. But as quickly as a blink, stains disappeared as if nothing had happened.
After putting the feather into the cauldron it too turned into a liquid. The content of the cauldron started to bubble but released on no heat. Strong rotten stench assaulted his senses.
"Oh... That smells wrong.
No matter let's see, one liver of a goat-horned frog, one feather from an oily rooster, 70 milliliters of apple juice, 6 drops of red wine, 6 drops of snake blood, 6 leaves of the walnut tree.
Good everything is correct." After double-checking that everything was correct Vilkar took the potion to his lips and started to drink.
