Yet Another Trouble

It didn't take time before Samuel and Ephraim got out of the illusory space created by the Fear Demoness, Charlotte. Ephraim told Sam about the origins of Charlotte, who was foretold by the Guardian—the metal dragon merged by the gateway to the vessel—himself. They were told that the Fear Demoness was an inconsequential entity that reflected the fear of those who had ventured inside the dungeon. The accumulation of deaths and the fear spreading even outside the grounds created what was supposed to be a minor being the power to grow, and eventually given birth to Charlotte inside the clock tower of Necropolis.

The name Charlotte was borrowed by the minor entity from the first woman to venture the grounds—a princess who dared to acquire the vessel to inherit the throne. She, as said by the Guardian, was a woman who knew no fear. She had ventured to the City of the Dead with only her whip and sword to guide her.

But then she was alone, without anyone to support her. She had no knights nor did she have servants to even aid her battles. This was unlikely of a royal, but even the Guardian did not know her circumstances. Charlotte eventually was followed by the necromorphs—and injured as she is, she found shelter into Necropolis' clock tower.

Unbeknownst to her knowledge, the Fear Demoness had resided long before in that tower. Awakening her deep slumber was the injured Charlotte; but she couldn't touch her because she had feared nothing. Until . . .

"Ack!"

Until she feared death.

The Fear Demoness, a shroud of black mist, enshrouded Charlotte. But instead of killing her, she was offered a choice. The minor entity told her a deal—and that deal was to borrow her body and soul. On the brink of death, Charlotte had no choice. She thought that her efforts would go to waste if she had chosen death, and so, she agreed to the Demoness.

The Fear Demoness used Charlotte's body to materialize fear and to entice men and lure them to the tower. Charlotte wholly disappeared and had surrendered her entire being to the Demon just for the exchange of life.

"Is it still possible to free this Charlotte?" Samuel asked.

"Unfortunately, no," Ephraim answered. "That story is about a thousand years old. She won't be able to survive even if we pull her out from the demon, which is also another impossible thing."

It was a cruel fate, but that's how the world was. Even Samuel knew that much, considering the deadly trials and the twisted way the dungeon had played with his feelings. He wouldn't think of anything around here as something retrievable. Not even the soul of the person who was considered as someone who had known no fear.

**

Ephraim and Samuel had stepped away from Charlotte's chambers. Samuel glanced back and sees only light emanating from within it. So he had taken a turn here? It was weird because he didn't notice. However, no one could blame him for it. Given the fact that the place seemed to be surrounded by magic, Samuel was certain he was lured against his own will to the place, like a charlatan manipulating someone over illusory tricks.

"So . . . how'd you get here again?" Samuel asked. "You got teleported by that dragon, right? But then, where WERE you? Where are the others?"

Ephraim sighed. "I was going to ask you that. I don't know where the team is."

"So . . . when we fell to that tunnel, we got here?" Samuel clarified. "Like, here in this dungeon?"

"Yes," Ephraim answered. "It's a bit hard to believe, but we got dumped hereafter we fell. I'm not sure where 'this' is, though. It seemed like the whole place isn't exactly . . . you know. Earth."

"Yeah, it feels weird, but it will be weirder if we think we're on Earth," Samuel said. "Like . . . grimoires, monsters, and illusions. I don't think this is some sort of simulation to know our psychological response to such creatures. But if it is, they'll get sued for ethical reasons."

Ephraim chuckled.

��Wh-what? Why're you laughing?" Samuel frowned. He wasn't sure if there was anything funny about what he had said. Or is he laughing because he had seen him cry? Samuel felt conscious, which was evident on the slight tremble on his voice.

"I'm just glad," Ephraim said. "That you're back to normal."

Samuel snorted. "Yeah, right."

The two of them began to walk to one of the stairs, their footsteps resonating around the whole clock tower. The same smell of copper and metal still wafted across the air, but there was something different around the atmosphere.

Of course, Ephraim wouldn't be able to tell. He was teleported to where Samuel is, and he did not know the insides of the clock tower. But Samuel, on the other hand, had scribbled the turns he took and had taken note about how the place looked like. Not that he had to take note. He had an excellent photographic memory. He immediately knew at one glance that some things were out of place.

Which is why he could tell instantly that something felt off.

"Something doesn't feel right," Samuel said, stopping to his tracks. Ephraim glanced back to Samuel, his eyes questioning. He already had many questions at hand and was dying to know the answers, but the place clearly wasn't the proper setting to get the clarifications he needs. What he needs is to survive first.

"What do you mean?"

"There's no stair leading to that area," Samuel uttered, facing the once, nonexistent direction of the tower. He pointed to the place which had now blended to the whole scenery as if it belonged there for a long time. Even the texture of the ground matched it like it was connecting to the main bridge Samuel and Ephraim were situated to.

"Are you sure?" Ephraim asked. He had to double-check, although it was a bit of a stupid move. Samuel Albrecht was what one could consider as a genius. And it wasn't because he was an academic, nor it was because he was a full-fledged researcher at a young age - it was because Ephraim had known Samuel to be honest despite his sharp tongue. The question he made was stupid, but he might have misheard what Samuel had said, so he ought to check again.

"Well, yeah," Samuel answered. "I've scribbled on my journal the turns I took and the probable areas of interest I'll explore. I'm pretty sure that doesn't . . . I mean, that direction did not exist just a while ago."

Ephraim wandered to the direction Samuel was pertaining to, and then slid his hand through it. Both of their eyes widened as Ephraim sees his fingers now touching nothing. Before their eyes, the place began to disappear as the ground corroded; the place had gone back to a dead-end, an area better off unexplored.

Not that they can explore it in the first place, considering it had collapsed into mere debris falling to the ground. Such a weak foundation couldn't exactly hold the two of them.

The sound of concrete falling to a metal with a clang startled both Ephraim and Sam, drawing them into a conclusion that what they had seen is real, and not another measly illusion. "What . . . in the world?" Ephraim mumbles, drawing away from the inclination that had just disappeared.

He took several steps backward as he reached Samuel. "You took note of this?"

"Yeah . . . now it's back to being what it was supposed to be," Samuel said, and then began to examine the place; but then, before him, emerged new infrastructure and stairs alike that led to new injunctions.

"You've got to be kidding me," Samuel said, "so we got to try all of these?"

"Well, not exactly," Ephraim said. "We only have to escape."

Samuel and Ephraim began to walk silently downstairs with what Samuel had known to have 'existed' from the start. Samuel fidgeted and glanced around anxiously as he sees new stairs, areas, and places erupting from the ground continuously.

"I've got to tell you, there're monsters down below," Samuel said, not taking his eyes off the newly-formed paths. "I almost died by simply escaping them."

"Oh, that reminds me . . . I've seen some sort of a group fighting and warding the monsters away," says Ephraim as the two of them began to venture more below the clock tower.

"Have you met them? We can team up with them and escape the dungeon together."

Silence.

"Sam?"

"I don't think . . . we can team up with them." Samuel said finally, after an awkward silence.

"Well, it'll be easier. The Guardian told me, to escape the dungeon, we have to get this thing called Wahid's Vessel. I think if we don't team up with them, they won't be able to escape here." Ephraim said as a matter-of-factly. "I don't think we can abandon them here."

Samuel still remained unresponsive, which made Ephraim stop to the stairs midway.

"What's wrong?" Ephraim asked. "You don't want to team up with them?"

"I—"

Cutting off Samuel's mid-sentence was a fireball shooting from a substantial distance, the flare landing just in the stair's rail; it had now vanished to smoke, the fire only a weak blaze that had been conjured as a warning.

Ephraim glanced at the dark mark left by the fire, and then he raised his head as he met the eyes of the one who had shot it. From few blocks away was a man wearing dark-blue robes, holding a wooden staff as a grimoire floated before him. Samuel felt a bead of sweat dripping across his chin as he realized who that man was - Samuel remembered comparing this man to Ephraim, and he remembered this man ordering Arletha to take him away . . .

"One more move," says the man, "And I will burn you two into ashes!"

Samuel gritted his teeth.

He remembered this man. This person who had cunningly ordered him killed.

"Hosea . . . !"