Early 11th century, somewhere in what is now Asia.
You find yourselves on horseback, winding through a narrow, well-worn trail created by the locals who know this land intimately. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the rich earth beneath you. All around, the landscape unfolds in breathtaking splendor, with layers of mountains and hills stretching as far as the eye can see, painted in shades of green, grey, and distant blue. From atop your horse, you can't help but marvel at the grandeur before you. It's a striking contrast to the view from within the Domo's metallic walls, where every mountain and tree seemed remote, almost unreal. Here, however, you can feel the pulse of the earth, sense the life it holds, and the ancientness of the land seems to seep into your bones. Babylon's vibrant cities of knowledge and bustling life are now behind you, passed on like the torch of human progress. It was Ajak's choice that set you all on this inland journey, guiding the group further into the continent's unknown heart. She rides at the front, her posture upright and dignified as she leads the way, while the rest of you follow behind, unified in purpose yet each lost in individual thoughts, processing the beauty and mystery of the world around you.
As twilight begins to descend, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose, you enter a small town nestled between two forested hills. The buildings are simple, their walls lined with wood and stone, exuding warmth and familiarity. You spot a lone tavern in this wilderness, its wooden sign swaying gently in the evening breeze, and decide to stop there for a meal before nightfall. One by one, you tether your horses to the posts outside, the quiet clinking of reins breaking the tranquil silence. Before stepping inside, Ajak turns to Sprite with a knowing nod, and with a single flick of her fingers, Sprite casts an illusion over the group. In an instant, the otherworldly shine in your eyes dims, the cut of your clothes softens, and you all begin to look less like travelers from the stars and more like ordinary wanderers. It's a small transformation, but enough to blend in with the locals and avoid curious stares. When you push open the door to the tavern, the smell of cooked food, wood smoke, and wine drifts toward you, welcoming you inside. Thanks to Sprite's subtle magic, no one looks twice as you enter; you are simply more faces in the crowd.
Something is off
You scan the dimly lit room and find an empty table near the far wall, slightly tucked away from the lively main area. After sitting down, you catch the eye of a passing waiter and give your order:
"小二,來點麵,酒跟店裡的下酒菜."
(Waiter, bring us some noodles, wine, and whatever side dishes you have here.)
The waiter nods and hurries off, but not before you were able to catch a glimpse of dull eyes in his expression. The sound of his footsteps fading into the chatter and laughter around you. Seated together, you turn to your companions, your family in purpose if not by blood—and each of you takes a moment to survey the room, observing the locals' gestures, language, and mannerisms. Subtle glances exchange, each of you studying and absorbing the rhythms of this small town, searching for clues about its people and their way of life. The glow from the lantern's casts soft shadows across the room, and, for a moment, the world outside fades as you all immerse yourselves in the warmth and simplicity of this place, savoring the chance to be part of it, even if only for one evening.
Then again, being an Eternal meant that life on Earth was never without intrigue or peril. From the moment you arrived millennia ago, the world seemed to constantly present moments of awe, conflict, and mystery, and tonight was no exception. The tavern buzzed with the lively hum of locals and soldiers alike, their laughter and chatter mingling with the clinking of cups and the warm crackle of a fire. At first glance, it seemed like a simple, bustling establishment, a refuge for weary travelers and townsfolk seeking warmth and food. But as your eyes scanned the room, your attention was drawn to a woman at the center of it all, standing out not by any overt display, but by the aura she carried. She appeared to be the owner of the tavern, a figure of quiet authority surrounded by a group of garrison soldiers, clearly from the nearby town. At first, you thought she found their company tiresome; her eyes flickered with a certain sharpness, and her posture seemed stiff, as though she barely tolerated their presence. Yet, as you observed her more closely, a different picture began to emerge. Her lips curved into subtle, knowing smiles, and her body language shifted—playful, even inviting. Her amusement was undeniable, and the soldiers around her seemed entirely under her spell, their gazes fixed, their movements slow and clumsy, as though they were moths circling a flame.
Something about her radiated a strange, unnatural power. It was a magnetic force, almost tangible, that held the men in thrall. While others in the room seemed oblivious to her effect, you and your companions could feel it, a concentrated energy emanating from her that set your instincts on edge. Then, without warning, she acted. In a fluid motion so swift it was almost imperceptible, she dispatched one of the soldiers—a quick, lethal strike that left him lifeless. The others remained oblivious, their trance unbroken, as she dragged the body toward a hidden trapdoor in the corner of the room. The casual efficiency of her movements sent a chill through you. No one else seemed to notice or care, the tavern continuing its cheerful rhythm as though nothing had happened.
"客倌,您要的食物來了."
("Here is your food, Sir.")
The waiter's voice startled you back to the present. You took the dishes, placing them on the table with deliberate care, but your mind was elsewhere. Your senses stretched out, following the faint noises emanating from below the trapdoor. The sounds were faint but unmistakable—the wet, grisly work of blades on flesh, the clatter of metal tools, and the muted murmur of voices. Your enhanced perception pieced together the grim truth: the body was being dismembered, its parts prepared for some macabre purpose. A sickening realization dawned on you as your gaze flicked to the steaming dishes before you. The food, so inviting in its presentation, was not what it seemed.
Your stomach churned, but you moved quickly, reaching out to stop Sprite just as she eagerly raised her chopsticks to take the first bite. Her hand froze midair, her expression shifting to one of confusion and annoyance.
"What are you doing?" her eyes seemed to ask, the hint of a pout on her lips suggesting she thought you were teasing her, playing some childish prank. But your hand remained firm, your eyes locking with hers, conveying an unspoken warning. The air between you grew tense as the others at the table began to sense your unease. Around you, the tavern's lively hum continued, the laughter and clinking of cups masking the horror unfolding beneath your feet.
The air in the tavern felt thick with an underlying tension, and the moment you whispered, "Food is not clean," to everyone present at the table.
The gravity of the situation became apparent to the group. Each of your companions paused for a heartbeat, eyes narrowing in unspoken agreement. One by one, they extended their enhanced senses, reaching out into the space around them. Their expressions shifted as they too began to pick up on the horrifying truth, the grim realization settling over the group like a heavy fog. What had seemed like a normal meal was now tainted, a trap woven into the very fabric of the food before them. You could see it in their eyes, they all reached the same conclusion in silence, the shock of it hanging heavily in the air.
"Deviants?" Kingo whispered from where he sat, his voice barely cutting through the murmurs of the tavern. The question was simple, but the implication was clear. You glanced around the table, your eyes meeting those of your companions, and noticed their fingers flicking instinctively, their palms glowing with golden energy. The hum of that power briefly flickered, illuminating the small space between you all, a brief flash of golden light before it vanished into the air.
"This needs further investigation," Ajak spoke up, her voice firm and steady, with an authority that quelled any doubts.
"Spread out and blend in with the locals." She paused for a moment, making eye contact with each of you, before continuing with her orders.
"Ikaris, take the high ground. Phastos, give Makkari your tracker—we need to scout the plains and trace the source of this. Everyone else, remain inconspicuous."
The orders were clear, and without another word, the group silently moved to leave the tavern. Yet, as you stepped outside into the cool night air, a strange sensation washed over you—a feeling that someone was watching. Your gaze instinctively shifted, scanning the surroundings. It was then that you spotted the figure—seated across the street, partially hidden by shadows, their hood drawn low over their face. The figure's attention was unwavering, fixed directly on you, their presence unnerving in its intensity.
Once on the road, Sprite wasted no time cloaking Ikaris and Makkari with her illusion. One of them took to the skies, vanishing into the heavens with a flicker of light, while the other sped off into the distance, their movements swift and barely perceptible. The rest of you, however, blended into the crowd, moving as one to avoid drawing attention to yourselves. The streets were empty, just as they had been when you entered. The people inside the tavern remained oblivious to what had transpired as each of you took your own route, careful to remain hidden in plain sight.
That is, until you caught sight of the hooded figure from the tavern slipping out through the back door. And you were intrigued.
"Thena, can you stay close to Ajak for me for the time being? I want to check on something." Knowing that Thena would comply whenever you asked for her help, you didn't wait for her answer and instead headed back into the tavern, following the hooded figure through the back door.
The town faded behind you as you ventured into the nearby forest. The dense trees loomed like silent sentinels, their branches heavy with the weight of countless years. The air was thick with the earthy scent of damp soil and pine, enveloping the area in an ancient, almost sacred stillness. Unfortunately, you lost sight of the hooded figure in the process of following them. However, the minor setback did not discourage you. Kneeling on one knee, you pressed your hand to the cool soil, extending your cosmic energy and sending a ripple through the ground. The forest felt alive, its roots pulsating with an age-old rhythm. You focused on connecting with it, hoping it would confirm your suspicions about the tavern owner and reveal where the hooded figure was heading. Pushing deeper, you drew on the energy of the land, listening for its secrets.
Before you could fully attune yourself to the forest's pulse, a sudden sound broke through the silence—the unmistakable swish of a weapon slicing through the air. The blade's trajectory was clear—you were the intended target.
Reacting instinctively, you moved with the fluid grace of a practiced warrior, twisting your body to shift out of harm's way. The strike narrowly missed, passing mere inches from you. Rising quickly, you positioned yourself defensively, ready to face the attacker. Standing before you was the hooded figure from the tavern, the one you had followed into the forest.
As the figure lowered their hood, their identity was revealed—a young maiden clad in a striking red robe, the fabric flowing around her as if alive with an almost supernatural energy. A sword sheath was strapped securely to her waist, and in her hands, she held a gleaming double-edged sword, its polished blade catching the faint light filtering through the trees. Her stance was deliberate and confident, her piercing gaze locked onto you with an intensity that spoke of unwavering determination.
The air between you crackled with tension, the promise of a fight hanging in the balance. Neither of you moved immediately, each waiting for the other to make the first move, the forest around you standing as a silent witness to the impending clash.
The forest seemed to hold its breath as you remained locked in a tense standoff. The maiden's crimson robe swayed gently in the breeze, its vibrant hue starkly contrasting the muted greens and browns of the woodland. Her grip on the double-edged sword tightened, her sharp eyes locked onto you, assessing, calculating—every movement deliberate. Then, with slow, measured steps, she advanced, her blade still raised, the tension thickening with each passing second. Her silence only amplified the unease in the air.
Finally, the maiden spoke, her voice soft yet carrying an almost musical cadence, laced with an undercurrent of warning.
"You do not belong here," she said, her tone as much an admonition as a statement.
"Your presence disrupts the balance."
"You are correct. I do not belong here," you admitted, keeping the rest of your family a secret. "But I'm not here to disrupt anything. I'm trying to stop something far worse than me—a danger that threatens everyone in this land, including you."
Her expression remained stoic, though her grip on the sword shifted slightly, betraying her readiness for battle. "You speak of dangers, yet you carry power that burns brighter than the sun. Such power does not go unnoticed. It draws attention—unwanted attention."
Before you could respond, she lunged. Her speed was breathtaking, the blade arcing toward you with deadly precision. You sidestepped swiftly, your body twisting fluidly to evade the initial strike. The whistle of the razor-sharp edge was too close for comfort—even if the blade didn't pose quite the same threat to you as it did to human flesh, the precision of her movements demanded respect. You felt the air stir against your cheek. Instinctively, you reached out with your cosmic energy, summoning the earth beneath your feet.
The soil surged upward at your command, forming a golden-tinged barrier just in time to intercept her follow-up strike. The clash was deafening, her blade biting into the earthen shield with a force that sent cracks rippling through its surface. The impact carried through, shattering the barrier and allowing the blade to cut deep into your arm. Pain flared instantly, searing and sharp, as golden blood streaked from the wound, dripping onto the forest floor in a faint cosmic glow.
"You're just like them," the maiden whispered in shock as she saw the golden blood.
The pain barely registered, drowned out by the sight of your own blood—golden, gleaming, otherworldly—as it dripped from the deep gash in your arm. It shimmered against your skin, catching the dim light like molten stardust, pooling in the earth below as if it didn't belong to this world. For a moment, even your breath faltered. You had always known what flowed through your veins, but seeing it spilled so starkly against the darkened soil—so real, so undeniable—sent a jolt of something cold and foreign through your chest.
The force of the blow staggered you, and you stumbled back, clutching your injured arm. She pressed her advantage, advancing with a series of rapid, calculated strikes. Each swing of her sword was precise and unrelenting, her movements fluid like a dancer's yet devastating like a predator's. You barely had time to reinforce your defenses, raising a fresh layer of golden-tinged earth between you, but she shattered each one with ruthless efficiency, forcing you further back.
Her voice trembled with recognition, her wide eyes locked onto the wound she had inflicted. That whisper—You're just like them—rang louder than the clash of battle, louder than the roar of blood in your ears. You lifted your gaze to hers, searching, reading the disbelief etched into her face. Not just disbelief. Fear.
Despite the sharp pain pulsing through your arm, you stood your ground. Gritting your teeth, you summoned more energy from the earth, causing thick vines to erupt from the ground. They lashed toward her like serpents, aiming to ensnare her.
She leapt to the side, her crimson robe swirling like fire as she evaded the attack. Her sword flashed, severing one of the vines mid-air. Every move she made was a display of sheer skill—effortless, yet deadly.
Pain pulsed through your arm, but you refused to falter. Summoning all your strength, you raised your good hand and unleashed a brilliant pulse of cosmic energy. The golden light surged outward, sending tremors through the air around you. The shockwave struck her, forcing her to retreat several paces, though she remained on her feet, her stance unwavering.
For a moment, the two of you paused, breathing heavily. Her sharp eyes held a mix of respect and wariness as she regarded you. Meanwhile, the wound on your arm throbbed with a dull ache, golden blood dripping steadily onto the soil. You straightened your posture, refusing to show weakness despite the pain.
Taking a steady breath, you centered yourself. The dull ache in your arm pulsed in rhythm with your heartbeat, but you refused to let it slow you down. Seizing the brief lull in battle, you shifted your stance and lifted your wounded arm, fingers splayed over the gash.
A soft hum resonated through your body as you summoned your healing power. Warmth bloomed beneath your touch, golden light seeping from your palm and into the wound. The shimmering energy knitted the torn flesh together, the cosmic radiance pulsing in time with your heartbeat. The pain dulled, then faded, replaced by a familiar warmth—one that was both reassuring and powerful. The golden blood that had spilled onto the forest floor glowed faintly before fading into the soil, as if the earth itself had absorbed its light.
She watched; her breath caught in her throat. Though she had seen magic before, this was something different. Something ancient. Her grip tightened on her sword, her sharp eyes locked onto you, searching for an explanation.
"That blood," she murmured, taking a cautious step forward. "That power… What are you?"
You exhaled slowly, flexing your now-healed arm, the only evidence of the wound being the faint golden stain left on your skin. Your gaze met hers—steady, unyielding.
"Something you can't quite name," you said, your voice calm but edged with something unreadable.
"You're stronger than I thought," she admitted, her tone measured, though there was something almost akin to admiration beneath it. Then, tightening her grip on her sword, she added, "But strength alone won't save you here."
"Last warning," the maiden said, her voice colder now. "Leave, or you'll force my hand."
"I'm not leaving until I've completed what I set out to do," you answered. "I'm already aware of a monstrous presence here. If you have any knowledge of what happened, then tell me. I'm not your enemy."
The maiden hesitated for a moment, her blade lowering slightly, though her stance remained defensive. Her eyes flicked toward the forest beyond, where shadows stretched long and dark.
"You don't understand what you're meddling with," she said, her voice quieter now. "This part of the land is cursed, and its corruption runs deeper than you know. Turn back before it consumes you too."
Before you could press her further, a sudden roar echoed through the forest—a guttural, inhuman sound that made the ground tremble. The maiden's expression changed in an instant, shifting from guarded hostility to grim determination.
"They're coming," she muttered under her breath, her grip on the sword tightening once more.
You turned toward the sound, your heart pounding as the trees ahead began to shake. A shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, its form monstrous and grotesque. Its eyes glowed with a sickly light, and its movements were unnaturally fluid, as though its very existence defied nature.
"Dweller-in-Darkness…" the maiden whispered, and for the first time, you heard a hint of fear in her voice.
"Deviants…" your voice echoed hers across the clearing.
The maiden shot you a glance, her previous animosity momentarily replaced by urgency.
"If you want to prove you're not my enemy," she said, "then help me stop that thing!"
Without hesitation, you stepped forward, the golden glow of your energy intensifying as you prepared for the battle ahead. Together, the two of you braced yourselves as the creature charged, its roar shaking the very air around you.