3 Chapter 3
Dane dreamed of a little town perched on the edge of a tall hill. It seemed a paradise compared to its neighboring natural features - an endless sea surrounding it from the north, south, and west and a rocky road from the east made the place seem like a treasured garden.
At the very top of the hill was a prepossessing cathedral of no less than two hundred meters. Tall spires pierced through the last remnants of night as the sun illuminated the world from just below the horizon. The white cathedral was like a supple peach as its white walls were bathed in the orangish brilliance of dawn.
There were abandoned houses of stone and clay barely seen between vines and weeds from the overgrown fields and enormous trees. They swayed in the wind, shaking the world with its deafening rustle.
Suddenly, the light retreated, and the moon rose into the sky. Droplets of rain rose into the sky and back into the clouds of the night. Time flew in reverse, and Dane couldn't help but awe at it with eyes wide. He had heard of the process before, but seeing it for himself put it in a new perspective.
Hundreds of years flew by in silence. The oppressive greenery retreated, revealing a giant well in the center of the town.
Suddenly, thousands of skeletons appeared around the well, and something glinted from within the deep well. The ghastly sight sent cold shivers down Dane's back.
A split second later, the corpses were gone, replaced by a festival accompanied by joyful chatter and boisterous laughter.
[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your trial…]
'Why is my chest so stuffy? Why does my throat burn?'
His nose itched, and he found himself reeking of tobacco.
Bewildered, he pulled a pipe out of his mouth, the kind one would see in a Lord of the Rings movie. He exhaled, letting out a puff of smoke before exploding into a fit of coughs. When he had finally cleared his airway of the smoke, he opened his eyes.
He sat on the roof of a horse wagon with a box of tobacco and a bottle of whiskey at his side. The people around him moved in a frenzy as they hauled barrels and buckets around the large well. Children sat at the porches of their houses, excitedly tugging at their mothers' skirts.
Dane's usually slicked-back hair was disheveled by the gusts of evening wind flying against his face, making his skin tingle euphorically from its cool touch.
The lively atmosphere took away his breath, sobering his mind and ebbing away a little of his fatigue. He placed the pipe down and took a moment to recollect himself.
It wasn't an easy task. He was mentally exhausted, but he did it anyway. He tethered his fleeting mind and emotions to a single thought. 'Preserve the life that Eliana nurtured.'
He used the guilt eating away at his being to anchor himself to the present. He had taken Eliana's life so he would, at the very least, not let her efforts go to waste.
He had to survive this, and he would see what would happen next.
He focused and thought about information about himself, and shimmering runes appeared before him instantly.
He didn't even try to translate them. Somehow, he just knew what they meant.
***
Name: Dane.
True Name: —
Rank: Aspirant.
Soul Core: Dormant.
Memories: —
Echoes: —
Attributes: [Fateless], [Nightwalker], [Beholder of Souls].
Aspect: [Wanderer].
Aspect Description: [Wanderer is a crafty traveler accustomed to faring through all manners of terrain. He possesses a robust constitution and remarkable reflexes and coordination, allowing him great freedom in using weapons.]
***
Dane smiled softly at his Aspect and Attributes. He was content with his Aspect. It enhanced his body and gifted him with reflex and coordination, specifically mentioning his freedom with weapons. It was formidable, and his Attributes seemed unique…he had heard of [Nightwalker] but not the ones regarding Fate and Souls. Those were new to him.
He summoned the runes detailing them.
***
[Fateless] Attribute Description: "The strings of fate loosely cloak your figure, refusing to hold you too tightly. All events are drawn by the consequences of your actions. Some are blessed, some are cursed, and some are both…they will all die being able to blame their fate for their ends. You will not have that pleasure."
[Nightwalker] Attribute Description: "Your body is resilient to the cold to the point of reveling in it, and your eyes are capable of seeing through the dark."
[Beholder of Souls] Attribute Description: "Souls of all kinds look fondly upon you and reveal themselves to you."
***
Goosebumps slithered down Dane's back as he stared at the runes describing [Fateless]. The guilt churned in his gut. His newly found peace of mind began to unravel. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that Attributes were granted to a person only after being infected by the Spell.
[Fateless] and [Beholder of Souls] seemed to be innate Attributes of his, while [Nightwalker] was a boon from his Aspect. Or it could be that [Beholder of Souls] was also a boon from his Aspect, though there were no direct relations. Souls were often associated with wandering and cold nights.
He hopped off the wagon, landing on the grassy ground. As he walked, he could feel the changes within his body. It was capable of far more than it had been able to do before. He felt like he could walk all day long without breaking a sweat.
He waded through the sea of smiling men. He could almost feel their liveliness. In a few hours, maybe less, when night comes, it would not remain.
Dane glanced at the well from the corner of his eyes, uneasy. He had been trained by the best of the best since birth and even forced into life-and-death situations for 'practical experience,' he had fought Echoes and sparred with Awakened from the age of six and learned to wield a weapon from the moment his hands were large enough to hold one. All the confidence he had turned into moot when he remembered the strange glint and the corpses surrounding the well. Whatever it was that he had to face wasn't ordinary.
He needed to get a weapon first and then find a way to draw whatever was inside that damned well outside, preferably with a horde of people to help him.
Dane stopped moving, perplexed. The world around him felt peculiar like something was missing. He didn't notice it before due to the effect of the cold wind on his body, but now that he was surrounded by humans who braved most of it for him, he could feel it.
It was a veil, invisible and nigh imperceptible. He squinted, piercing through it.
Before him, he could see shimmering white outlines inhabiting bodies, and some without flesh, dark and solemn. They drifted aimlessly, enviously observing the people around them.
As if sensing his gaze, they fixed their eyes on him, intrigued. Some moved closer to him and tried touching him. And to his displeasure, their lightless hands passed through his flesh.
"You're alive, aren't you?"
