curse of existence

Chapter 1: The Dream of Shadows

The tower groaned around him, its ancient stones shifting like a restless giant. Darkness clung to every corner, thick and suffocating, but Azaymos had grown used to it. The shadows were his only company—whispers of a world that felt like a distant memory.

He was dreaming again.

In the depths of his mind, a figure danced in the void, her wings shimmering with ethereal light. The fairy, small and radiant, hovered just beyond his reach. She had visited him countless times over the past decade, a silent observer and an occasional guide.

"Azaymos..." Her voice was soft, a melody that drifted through the darkness. "The time has come. You can't stay here forever."

He clenched his fists. "Ten years," he muttered, his voice rough from solitude. "You've been telling me this for ten years, and yet here I am."

The fairy's smile was both kind and cryptic. "And for ten years, I've kept you from losing yourself in this cursed place. But this will be the last time we speak."

Azaymos's eyes narrowed. He had heard these cryptic warnings before, but there was something final in her tone this time. "What do you mean, last time?"

The fairy fluttered closer, her wings sending ripples through the void. "You must summon an ally. Someone who can help you escape the tower. Someone who will give you what you desire most."

He blinked. Summon? After all this time, she had never mentioned a way out like this. The fairy had always spoken in riddles, guiding him in moments of need but never offering a direct solution.

"The runes have been there, waiting," she continued, her voice fading as the void began to tremble. "This is your last chance. Summon the one who can free you, or remain trapped forever."

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Azaymos awoke with a start. The cold stone floor beneath him felt far too real, as did the dim glow of the runes etched into the ground around him. His chest heaved as the remnants of the dream clung to his mind. The fairy's voice echoed in his thoughts—summon an ally.

For ten years, he had survived in the Tower of Disperse, fending off monsters, trying and failing to tame the savage creatures that lurked within. There had been moments—absurd moments—when he had tried to train them, even befriend them.

Once, he'd attempted to bring an ice creature into a fire zone, thinking it might adapt or even learn. The poor thing had nearly melted in confusion. Another time, he'd trained a small, obedient beast to act as a guard, only for it to perish two days later, unable to withstand the relentless dangers of the tower.

He had long accepted that he would die alone in this place, surrounded by beasts that could neither speak nor understand him.

But now... the fairy had given him a final message. There was a way out, and it lay in the runes that had been beneath his feet all along.

"I've been walking past my escape this whole time..." he muttered, shaking his head.

Azaymos knelt, tracing the glowing symbols with his fingers. The runes pulsed faintly, responding to his touch as if recognizing his intent. His heart raced as he began the incantation, the ancient words spilling from his lips like a long-forgotten melody. The temperature in the room dropped, the air thickening with the weight of power.

The runes flared to life, their glow intensifying until it was almost blinding. Azaymos felt the shift in the air—a pulling, a sensation like a door being forced open from another realm. His tattoos, the curse that marked him, glowed in sync with the runes, pulsing with raw energy.

"By these ancient symbols, I call forth the one who will aid me in this cursed place..."

The air before him twisted and warped, space folding in on itself as if reality was bending to his will. The tower groaned again, its stones shuddering under the weight of the summoning. Azaymos clenched his fists, bracing himself as the portal solidified.

And then... silence.

For a moment, nothing moved. The glow of the runes dimmed, the swirling portal faded, and the tower returned to its oppressive stillness.

Azaymos cursed under his breath. Did it fail?

But just as doubt began to creep into his mind, two figures materialized in the chamber. The first was tall and lean, his fiery red hair glowing faintly in the dim light. The second was colder, more distant, with silver hair that shimmered like moonlight and eyes that glowed an eerie red.

Azaymos stared in disbelief. Not one... but two.

"How much luck do I have?" he muttered, almost laughing at the absurdity. "I was told to summon one, but now I've got two."

He stepped closer, his heart pounding in his chest. After years of solitude, he finally had allies—companions who could speak, think, and perhaps even understand him.

"My new friends," he whispered, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "This time, I won't lose them."

The two figures exchanged confused glances, both seemingly unaware of how they had arrived. The red-haired one frowned. "How did I get here?"

The silver-haired figure's gaze flicked around the chamber. "What just happened?"

Azaymos's smile widened. They didn't even realize they'd been summoned.

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End of Chapter 1