Bennan stared down at the man in stunned silence, the blood in his veins turning to ice as his heart refused to beat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw sparks dancing around the site lead's hand as he summoned a memory. Around him, the other mundane workers began to scatter slowly as if they were moving underwater, —but Bennan's gaze never left the man who, not twenty minutes ago, had been talking his ear off.
Then, he saw movement.
Just a foot away from the headless body, a small red raven pulled its beak from the ground and turned its head toward Bennan.
The creature was monstrous. It had three eyes, a sleek, blood-colored plumage, and a serrated beak.
As their eyes locked, Bennan's heart lurched back to life—pounding faster than ever. Time had resumed.
But he couldn't move. All he could do was send a prayer to the dead gods, hoping one of them might hear him.
And maybe one did.
Just as the raven unfurled its wings to strike, the dead man's body twitched. His hand shot up and snatched the bird by the neck.
Bennan watched, trembling, as the corpse convulsed and lunged at him with inhuman speed. He stumbled back as a red blur whistled past where his head had just been, blowing the shoulder clean off the freshly made pilgrim.
It was enough to shake him out of his stupor. Gasping for air, he scrambled to his feet and ran.
All around him, he heard the sickening whistles of ravens diving from above. Each impact struck like a hammer, sending tremors through the polished stone, throwing off his stride.
Without sparing the battling nightmare creatures a glance, he burst through the treeline and into the underbrush, crashing through thick bramble and low branches that lashed at his skin and tore at his coat. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he ran for what felt like an eternity—it was the only thing he heard until… it wasn't.
There was something else now. He felt it reverberating through the ground behind him—loud, deliberate footfalls from something heavy.
He tried to run faster, but his lungs screamed for mercy, and his pace began to falter. His coat was shredded, letting in the frigid cold as thorns and brush scraped against his raw bloody skin.
Then, just as he was about to resign himself to the nightmare creature overtaking him, his foot landed on a deceptive patch of foliage concealing the edge of a steep embankment.
And suddenly, he was falling.
Bennan came to with a groan. He didn't remember hitting the ground — or much of the fall, for that matter.
"Ugh… what the hell."
Slowly, he turned his head. Through blurry vision, he saw the slope above him… and a massive shadow creeping along the treeline.
But he didn't have the strength to care. The cold was already seeping into his bones.
His eyes drifted shut.
And then, from the darkness, a melodic female voice called out to him:
[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your First Trial…]