Shadow Slave AU: Vile Wanderer

A gaunt but tall young man walked silently through an ornate metallic hall, coated in tapestries and arches. Vast veins of copper ore seemed to have spilt across the walls and floor.

The young man, Arino, wore his finest garments. Unfortunately, this described a slightly less torn up red tunic with handmade sandals. The sound of wood clacking against steel was unable to betray the silence in the hall, as if the air stood still beneath the might of the two individuals in front of him.

Both Elders nodded to Arino, and the silence was lifted.

"Elders, the Sleeping has sprouted in me. I wish to Awaken according to our traditions, should I receive your blessings."

Unchanged for several moments, the woman to his left, Elder Irania, took a deep breath, and the Erdsteel walls began to resonate with her words, as if speaking for her.

Preparing for the worst judgement possible, one of being too weak to survive the awakening and being executed, Arino silently prayed to their god whilst a much gentler voice than anticipated echoed around him,

"Go, Arino, to the Soul Tree. You are to wash the fruit down with this sacred blood."

An intricate gold inlaid vial floated down to him from her hand, like it was there the whole time, and he took it reverently. The man to his right, Elder Orik, tapped his finger on his throne and Arino's mind was thrown into disarray.

The walls seemed to crumble around him, and sunlight stabbed through the ceiling to reveal a sky filled with black clouds, pierced only by a tree that reached for the sun itself. Black branches held beautiful red leaves, with gently glowing yellow dots hanging from it's branches, barely visible.

He had moved Arino miles away with a tap of his finger!

The miles between him and the tree seemed inconsequential as he anticipated what was to come. He would devour the Soul Fruit! The being they worshipped, the Sacred Wanderer, was said to reside at the top of the tree.

Of course, Arino was scared. The fruit could reject him an kill him, but since the Elders let him go, it could bless him too. The Wanderer would receive plenty of prayers from him along the way there. Perhaps She will bless me with a vision, or perhaps She will descend Herself!

Arino passed through the immense ruins between him and the tree, seeing stone formations easily a thousand meters tall. Not just vast, but hollow, as if to store an ungodly amount of something.

Arino looked around excitedly, thinking about the secrets that must hide around him. There's only so many chances the Elders let someone into the ruins unmonitored, I can only pray The Wanderer forgives me for snooping in her territory.

He continued through a small stone box with a few shattered pieces of glass still residing in metal frames. There was a plastic bag depicting some sort of brown bean, Coffee? It's in our language but i don't recognize the word at all. There's none of those beans left though, they look tasty.

The area had clearly been cleared out of anything edible or soft enough to make a nest with, so he gave up on his search and wandered through a door he saw behind the waist height stone wall with the glass on top of it.

Upon opening the door, a bit of sunlight cracked through hitting a partially shattered piece of black glass. It caught Arino's attention, and as he picked it up, not slowing his step, it began to light up. On it's surface was some sort of moving drawing, as real as the visions some awakened could transmit.

In the black slate's image, a man coated in shiny black stone armor singlehandedly held back a Sundering, expelling countless Nightmare Creatures towards him only to be torn apart by a vicious whirl of shadowy steel.

Startling Arino, a frantic but clear voice came from the slab! "Lord Mongrel, the well known Sword Saint of the Dreamscape stands tall against a Category Two Nightmare Gate, giving the local school children a chance to evacuate. He can't be alone is he—-.—-.—"

Static, then silence. The moving art was gone, the voice was gone. A Nightmare Gate? That's a Sundering, but of the second level? How can a man stand alone against it? Could this be the power offered by the corruptive Nightmare Spell? Not only are there clearly other people, they even speak our language and wield the spell!

Arino pocketed the slate, as an unseen set of eyes watched him from the first door he entered through.

The rest of the journey to the tree was uneventful, despite the turmoil in his mind. Arino sat down at it's base wearily, with the day's journey weighing on him heavily. He wasn't a hunter for his village, nor was he a guard, and so his stamina left much to be desired.

It was a small price to pay, as the guards of the village had a quite short life expectancy due to the sheer savagery of the nightmare creatures all around their village. At night, there was a horde of awakened beasts that was to be avoided at all costs which they would clash especially fiercely with.

Keeping his eyes closed was beginning to get harder and harder as his breath recovered, but Arino was too scared to fall asleep yet. If he didn't consume that fruit, he would die, destined to become a horrible Nightmare Creature. He rose, and began his ascent to the tree's lowest branch.

How many of our people have climbed this tree over the years? How many of us failed to even reach it, weakened from sleeplessness? Arino finally saw it up close, the glowing Soul Fruit he had been waiting for. About the size of his fist, it was honestly a lot less impressive than he expected.

Sitting down on the branch it was hanging from, Arino bent over and plucked it, carefully as to stay upright despite his movements. With an small tearing sound, the fruit came free and it's warmth begin to saturate his body.

With a deep breath, he prepared himself, thinking to himself, This is the last step before i never have to fear The Sleeping again. He took a bite, but as he swallowed everything began to shake. A crack resounded from somewhere near the top of the tree. Almost in sync, a screeching like nothing he had ever heard before pierced his eardrums and he lost his vision with his balance for a moment.

He felt the branch slip out from underneath him as something hit it, snapping it directly off the tree.

He was floating, or so he thought. The ground corrected him rather quickly, and his vision began to clear. He couldn't hear anything other than the echo of the first screech, but what he saw was enough to make him doubt his sight just as much as his hearing.

A branch of the Soul Tree had fallen from the very top, shattering his branch and piercing through the earth next to where he lay. And, as he looked past the broken side sticking from the earth, he saw it.

A bird, far too distant to be so clear and large, shooed clouds away with every flap of it's wings. It opened it's maw, and everything went black.

[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your First Trial…]