Chapter 30

Dark, damp, dreary, these were all the words that Ryder would normally associate with this type of area, yet that's not how it was at all.

This long stone hallway felt closer to a half remembered dream than anything else, it was a strange feeling, somewhere between the False Zone and the dreams he'd been having.

It felt like something he should be able to wake up from but couldn't.

He also could not bring himself to draw his weapon, something about this place wouldn't let him, it was melding him… trying to make him fit something.

It was trying to turn him into someone else.

Ryder had to focus on who he was just to stay standing, it was a strange, invasive, maddening feeling.

He would not let it stop him though, he moved forward through the stone hall, marching towards the only door he could see.

It was dusty, rotting, as if it hadn't been cared for in years.

However, despite its appearance the scent of rain came from it, a strange but refreshing scent that washed away his worries as he grabbed the door handle.

The metal knob was cool to the touch, not freezing like the door outside had been… but just cool enough to make him expect a breeze of cold air.

Upon opening the door he was greeted to a bizarre sight, he was now back outside the mansion, however it was no longer snow covered.

There were lush trees everywhere, making it clear this place had been located in the woods of this area, the only path leading to and from being a dirt trail.

The sky was dark as rain poured down heavily, turning the dirt trail into a muddy one.

Ryder felt something tug at his heart seeing this, something about this scenery moved him in a way he'd never expected.

Whoever these memories belonged to must have had a strong attachment to this one scene, it was something he didn't want to move away from, something he felt safe in.

The long he waited, the more complacent he felt, the cool air and sound of rain soothing his mind and restoring some semblance of peace.

With a heavy sigh Ryder leaned back against the now closed door, trying to make sense of any of this, perhaps that's what his problem truly was here.

He thought too hard about it, perhaps it was better to just go with the flow in these scenarios, after all that was what helped most in understanding Omen.

Softly he gazed to his left, gazing off into the woods, something was drawing him in… perhaps now was the best chance to test that theory.

Lightly he raises the hood on his cape and begins walking in the direction, hoping to not get lost as he follows this feeling.

The lush trees overhead gave the already gloomy ambience an even more dreadful feel, as if the dark storm clouds were closing in, lowering down to impossibly close levels.

Quietly Ryder gripped the handle of his sword, seeking some comfort as kept marching deeper, and deeper into these foreboding woods.

Soon enough he reached another clearing, all that was there was a hole in the ground with a sword resting behind it.

The closer Ryder got, the more dread that filled him, as if he knew what awaited him.

For this wasn't just some random hole in the ground, no, this was an open grave.

A grave that had been used for someone incredibly important, someone who should've stayed buried and gone.

Yet looking down into the grave revealed it to be empty, not a single sign of anyone having been buried there.

Just as he was about to stop looking into the grave, a sudden force hit him from behind, like a kick to the back, sending him tumbling into the ground below.

The dirt flying past his vision as he falls into the darkness until he slams into a wooden floor, the ground creaking from his impact.

Slowly he sat up and looked around, finding himself in what looked to be the interior of the mansion now, it was dark, the rain still pouring outside and the place once again seemed to be abandoned.

The dark and rainy atmosphere was still eerily relaxing to Ryder, despite the scene prior he felt no need to be on guard here as he walked through the halls, taking in all the little details as he did so.

Hanging on the walls were fancy silver decorations and portraits of people he could not recognize, each one seeming to belong to a different lineage or family, though they all shared the last name "Wolfsbane".

Perhaps it wasn't a last name at all, rather a title belonging to those staying here, yes that seemed to sit in Ryder's mind better than the alternative.

Then came the silver decorations, each one resembling some kind of weapon.

A sword, scythe, dagger, lance, sickle, they were all silver bladed weapons, hanging next to, or above, their respective portraits.

At the end of the hall was an empty spot, no portrait or weapon hung on the wall.

"One day, I too will be enshrined here."

The thought had just beamed itself into his mind, like someone else was reminiscing on their fate here, briefly taking over even his thoughts.

Though it did disturb him he could not allow himself to falter here, instead turning and walking back to the other end of the hall.

His footsteps against the hardwood softly echo back into his ears, though they didn't sound like his either, they were much lighter and didn't match his normal rhythm.

Could this be another one of the tricks this place employs? It was possible but he couldn't know for sure.

Upon approaching the other end of the hall he paused, seeing a staircase leading to the main foyer of the mansion that he'd seen for himself.

To his right was another rotting door, this one was easier to move though as he swung it open with no problems.

On the other side of this door was a simple enough looking office or study, nothing too crazy.

There were bookshelves on either wall, a fairly large desk with papers scattered about and most noticeably a fireplace on the left wall.

This room had to be connected to the outside as it had two large windows in the back as well, the woods outside being in clear view.

Lastly there was a singular locked door on the right wall, strange as there's no way it should be able to lead anywhere.

Quietly he moved over to the door and gently pushed it open, a wave of dark shadows blowing past him as he did so.

The room was no bigger than a closet, though there was a ladder leading to a higher floor, an ominous feeling coming from the shadows swirling above.

It felt like something was calling him up, whispering in his ears, drawing him ever deeper into the nightmare.

Yet he couldn't stop, he felt the need to know more.

The feeling of the shadows dashing across his skin, the chill running down his spine as he entered the attic and saw a reflection in the darkness.

There, just across the way, was a glass case of sorts; a shining dark metal lurking within.

It shone even in the deepest darkness, the shadows seeming both attracted and repelled by it, converging around the case.

Ryder could feel its power as he approached, the darkness within yearning for it, demanding to take hold of it.

Something about it resonated greatly with the power bestowed by Omen, as well as the natural darkness of the world.

It was a powerful feeling… but not a good one, a corrupting one, a power that could take control of one's mind if not used correctly.

Upon reaching the glass there he noticed that his reflection was not his own, there in the glass was a woman with bright red hair tied into a braid draped over her shoulder.

Her eyes were a deep azure blue with an untold darkness lurking behind them, a single scar going over her right eye.

A few freckles also dotted her otherwise fair complexion.

This was the Forlorn.

This is who these memories and nightmares belonged to.

Silently she reached up and placed a hand on the glass, a feeling of fury and regret raging up inside of her as she raised her hand back and smashed the glass.

As the glass shattered Ryder was sent flying back, the room morphing with the glass falling, turning into what seemed like an open arena.

It was all mossy stone, resembling some of the old temple's stonework, torches hung on the wall, lighting up with blue flames and revealing a figure where the case had been.

The figure looked to be composed of nothing but shadows, melding itself to fit into the armor to puppeteer it around.

Clanking is heard as the armor raises its arm, a silver sword materializing in its grasp as it points it at Ryder.

A boss name appeared but no health bar.

[Manifestation of Regret]

Ryder could feel his hands tremble as he reached for his blade, a great sorrow running through him, weighing his heart down terribly.

Something about this shadow made him want to throw his weapon aside, he didn't want to strike it down, he couldn't.

If he didn't he'd be killed, there could be no holding back, no hesitation, one false movement and this shadow would cleave through him.

With a heavy heart he raises his own weapon, awaiting the Manifestation's approach.

A tear streaming down his face as hears a woman's voice.

"Forgive me, Frederick…"