My body shakes with fear.
My teeth rattle in despair.
The flame of courage grows dim.
Yet I force my weary body on.
No matter how unsightly that may look.
For there is nothing else I can do.
Even the cloudless sky seemed tinged with gray.
The world was in ruin. A mere century had passed since the long and bloody crusade that ushered in a new age of peace, yet the world was plunged into darkness once more by a blinding white shroud of mist. The Shroud of Chaos.
It appeared suddenly and without warning in the hundredth year of the New Astral Calendar. The people detested it, holy men lamented it, and wise men feared it. But the fools—they regarded it with covetous eyes.
And a party of such fools, called “adventurers,” was at this very moment crossing the plains in a horse-drawn carriage.
“Whoa, really?!” exclaimed one, a spiky-haired brunet called Rascal.
“I could tell you were special,” added the young man in a suit of armor sitting beside him. “But to think we had a graduate of the Academy in our midst…”
The object of their wonder was a young girl with blue hair by the name of Renea sitting across from them. She puffed out her well-developed chest and replied, “Ahem! You’ll look back on this as one of the luckiest days of your life!”
Rascal and Tolkin, the man next to him, showered the young lady with more praise before looking with relieved expressions toward the girl sitting by the window. She had long white hair and was shaking in her boots.
“Miss Alice,” said Tolkin. “There’s no need to be afraid. This woman is a formidable ally.”
“Y-y-y-y-yes, you’re right.”
The girl, Alice, kept trembling, so Rascal and Tolkin simply shrugged. However, another boy, Cecil, reached out to her with a gentle smile on his face.
“It’s okay to be scared,” he said. “It’s an important instinct to have as an adventurer, especially fresh faces like us.”
Alice was about to express her gratitude, but just as she opened her mouth to speak, the coachman called out over his shoulder, “We’re almost at the fog. Time to mask up, rookies.”
The idle chatter immediately stopped. All adventurers knew to wear their masks when exploring the Shroud. The masks were steeped in the juices of the Orage fruit and dried, which was believed to protect against harmful effects, in particular the fearsome disease Blue-Eye, responsible for the terrifying monsters called “fiends” that prowled the lands.
Everybody checked their weapons as the carriage came to a halt.
“Stay safe out there, rookies,” said the coachman, watching his passengers disembark before turning around and heading back to safety.
There was a short pause where nobody moved a muscle. They all knew that beyond this point, there was every chance they wouldn’t return alive. Alice, the most terrified of them all, had even begun muttering a prayer underneath her breath, and it was not obvious whether the girl herself had realized it.
“O, St. Augus…p-please keep us as we walk through the valley of shadows…”
To her comrades, the trembling girl was a reflection of their own mental states. “Hey, don’t be gettin’ all flaky on us!” said Rascal, apparently the most perturbed by this window into his own fear. “Don’t forget you’ve got us here!”
“He’s right,” said Tolkin. “None of us face our trials alone. We stand strong together.”
Alice felt heartened by these words…and ashamed of her own cowardice. If she was ever to fulfill her dreams and stand by his side, she would need the courage to see it through.
Alice tried to remain hopeful, and, at last, she spoke.
“I…I shan’t be a burden! I promise!”
Her partners looked back at her with proud smiles.
“Right. Then let’s take our first steps down a path of legend.”
The party of five exchanged fortifying glances and stepped into the mist.
Once inside the dungeon, they kept to the main path. Rascal, Tolkin, and Alice all broke into a cold sweat, feeling the evil lurking just out of sight. Just then, something crawled around the corner.
“A slime. Perfect for our first real fight.”
It was a lump of flesh the color of sludge, with smooth, flowing skin and a human face. As it crept along the ground with slow, painstaking movements, the face moaned, “I’m late… I’m late…”
“Alice, Rascal, Tolkin, watch closely! I’ll show you how a true genius fights!”
Renea stepped forward, extending her palm.
“O, fire and lightning, come to me! Lay waste to my foes and bring eternal stillness!”
Renea’s clear, sharp words heralded a burst of purple lightning from her palm that hit the slime head-on.
“I’m…late…”
With one final cry, the slime melted into an unrecognizable puddle of rotten flesh. Left behind in the center of the remains was a single jewel. Renea dashed over and scooped it up.
“…Damn. Nothing special. Guess he was just a normal dude before he got all, you know, gooey.”
A Testament Stone. This was the object left behind after a fiend earned a temporary reprieve from life. It was also an adventurer’s main source of income.
“…Well, color me surprised,” said Rascal, stunned by the impressive display of magic. “I didn’t know you could use Sacraments.”
“We can manipulate the Source ourselves,” said Tolkin, “but not to that same extent…”
The Source was one of the mysteries revealed only to initiates of the Church of Cthul. It was an unfathomable power that dwelled within the body, granted to mankind by St. Augus in times of old. He was the first in history to communicate with the Undergod Cthul himself and unravel the Source’s mysteries, becoming the founder of the Cthulian religion. Believers received this power as well, and by studying its secrets, they could grow adept in manipulation of the Source and call upon its boundless potency in battle.
The Sacrament was the name given to the most powerful of these arts, and students able to call upon them were rare.
“I’m also a Sacrament user, by the way,” said the other man, Cecil. “I’m not as adept as Renea, though.”
“Wow! You’re saying we’ve got two Sacrament users on our team?!”
“We’ve got luck on our side!”
Rascal and Tolkin beamed with self-assurance, their stress of only a few moments prior all but gone.
“We’re gonna make so much money today!”
“Maybe we can trade this starting equipment in for something better already?”
The fear had given way to a careless optimism. And that was when it happened.
“The first thing I’ll do is invest in some better armor, and—”
Tolkin’s words were cut short.
“Shgyugh.”
It all happened so fast that nobody realized what had become of him at first. And when they finally did, it nearly destroyed their feeble minds.
It was a rock, thrown with incredible force, which had taken off poor Tolkin’s head.
“Tol…kin…?”
Rascal stared in horror, dumbfounded. Then…
“M-m-meeeat… Meeeeat…”
“Ch…ch-ch-chil…dren…”
Through the veil of mist came the horrifying cause. Dozens of blue pinpricks in all directions. The eyes of fiends.
At that moment, everyone made the same decision.
“Run!”
It was Cecil who cried out first—a prelude to the carnage that was to follow.
Courage. Humanity’s greatest weapon and a last resort against the specter of fear. In a dungeon, it was the only thing on which an adventurer could truly rely. Knowledge and skill were both secondary; tools subservient to the whims of the heart. Cecil and Renea had both forgotten that simple truth and were scrambling around madly, searching for a way out. Their minds were muddled, unable to put any of their precious Sacraments into action.
Manipulation of the Source required a calm mind. Reciting the chant was merely one method to achieve this state; without a still heart, it was no more than soliloquy. Knowledge and skill were meant to be their two wings for soaring over troubles, but right now those wings were clipped, and their only destination was a gruesome end for both them and their comrades.
“We’re nearly at the exit!” yelled Alice, more terrified than anyone else. “Just a little longer! Don’t look back! Just keep on running as fast as you can!”
There was no response. The others didn’t need to be told. None of them wanted to look back and face the cruel reality bearing down on them. Nobody wanted to accept the horrible truth…that those fiends were getting closer.
“Ch-ch-ch-children… Children…”
“M-meat…meat. Wanna eat…meat…”
Kobolds. Unfortunate souls warped beyond recognition by the influence of the Shroud. They pursued the adventuring band gleefully and with slavering mouths.
Perhaps it was their terrifying persistence that caused Renea to trip on a rock…and fall.
“Aaaagh!”
A shrill scream issued from her paling lips. Cecil and Alice both stopped and looked back.
“Renea!” they both cried. Rascal, meanwhile, lacked their virtuous intent and continued running.
“Hee…hee…hee…hee. What’s…for…dinner…todaaay…?”
A kobold that had been hiding in a side passage pulled him to the ground. Rascal let out a tiny squeal that would prove to be his final word, and the air grew thick with the sounds of him being messily devoured, providing a haunting accompaniment to the girl’s anguish.