"Huff, huff, huff."
"How are they so fast?"
"I can't keep going!"
The boy muttered to himself as his lungs burned. His pale skin was drenched with sweat. Dark circles hung below his jet-black eyes. His thick but unkempt blonde hair flowed in the wind as he ran. A dusty white cloak flapped off one shoulder. His premium silk shirt and matching pants clung to his frail frame; clothes that were uncommon within the Void.
As he ran, he looked around. The buildings hadn't changed for the past hour. They were still the same broken-down, crumbling houses the Void was known for. Behind him were five pursuers who had been chasing him ever since they found out he had escaped from their cart.
'Five? Weren't there six?'
He didn't have time for small details; the sixth had probably looped around, looking to cut him off. He wouldn't fall for that. He had been running away for years, or trying to.
Starlight pivoted into an alleyway and plunged into the shadows.
He shivered quietly.
He did not like the darkness.
People often grow to love what they are born into: a rich family in a mansion or a middle-class family in a cozy home, even a poorer family home might be better than what he was born into: the dark.
He was the only person ever born in the Void.
...
Starlight thought back to his teacher's words in the government: "The Void isn't just a part of Earth, it is its own world."
When all of the Earth's continents magically shifted together, a massive chasm formed called the Rift. The Rift was a portal, and the other side contained a seemingly infinite expanse of land called the Void. Like the Overworld, the Void had a cycle of light. A giant star called Proxima acted as the sun.
After his mother had died, the government took him in and locked him away like a relic. They treated him like a lab rat. He had grown scared of the dark, understandable for a kid of his age, but his fear was different. He had been locked in the dark for an extended time on multiple occasions. They were trying to see what the darkness would do to him, over and over again, until he was on the verge of insanity.
...
'Come on, Starlight, it's only an alley! You can go right through there.'
He encouraged himself as he ran forward, being swallowed by the dark every step of the way. The street up ahead glowed; he was almost there.
Just as he reached the street, Starlight bumped right into a hard leather surface. Intricate patterns were etched all over the leather with the occasional metal object.
"Shit," he gasped. The worst possibility came true.
He had run into the sixth pursuer he had previously brushed off.
"Um...hi, sir."
The middle-aged man looked down at the boy lying on the ground from the impact of the collision; his broad shoulders and towering figure loomed over Starlight. Light shone over his face, revealing a hint of disappointment, but mainly annoyance and anger.
"Nice try, Starlight, you got pretty far this time."
The man bent over and picked the boy up by the collar and placed the dusty white cloak back over Starlight's shoulder.
The rest of the pursuers had caught up and shuffled into the spacious alleyway; some of their faces were red and flustered from all of the chasing, while the more experienced ones looked indifferent.
One of the more exhausted men slowly heaved out words as he tried to catch his breath.
"That was quite the game of cat and mouse you had us playing, you little brat."
Starlight turned around. These men were meant to protect him in his journey from stronghold to stronghold. He looked down and stared at the dust on his shoes, heat rising in his heart. His actions had caused them harm, but he'd do it again. He would continue running until he was free.
"Finally caught him, Geralt, you did great."
An older man from the back of the group said to the man standing behind Starlight.
"Hey, Starry, can you stop running now? These old bones won't be able to keep up for much longer."
The old man looked at him with his deep blue eyes, which seemed to have a sea of knowledge enveloped within them.
Starlight didn't reply.
He looked up at the man he ran into.
"Can we go back to the cart now, Geralt?"
The man looked at Starlight, then back at the others.
"Let's go," Geralt said in a stern voice.
As Starlight stepped out of the alley, he heard a soft ring of a bell. It sounded so far and yet so close at the same time. He looked around, attempting to spot a place where a bell could've rung, but saw nothing.
Noticing the kid looking around in a state of confusion, Geralt was about to inquire, but stopped himself. A moment later, he turned around and looked forward, and continued walking.
...
As they walked, the piles of rubble that had once been buildings became more spaced out, marking the end of the city. They soon reached a makeshift campsite. It had three logs placed around a bonfire and a cart with a white cloth roof over it, blocking the wind's direction. The two horses that pulled the cart were lying down behind one of the makeshift benches. A couple of meters from the site lay the carcass of a dead monster.
Starlight looked at it with a grim expression. These were the beings that inhabited the Void. These were monsters, the creatures Divers had to fight. All people from the Overworld who challenged the Rift were called Divers.
Starlight looked around again. He waited as the six men woke up the horses, packed up the crates, and put out the fire.
He watched Geralt, the strongest of the six. Divers come in many ranks. People chosen by the Hex to go through a trial were called Descenders. Divers who completed their first trial were Travelers. Geralt was still a Traveler like the rest, but unlike them, he had consumed the most spirit in his Nexus.
The monster they had slain was a Wretch, the second-lowest type, but by no means was that bastard weak. The higher the rank and class of a monster, the more spirit a diver could absorb into their Nexus. The Nexus served as the core for Divers, holding all of their essence. Luckily, the earlier fight had lasted long enough for Starlight to sneak out into the nearby ruins, but all good things must come to an end. Immediately after the fight, they came looking for him.
As the men put the last of the supplies into the cart, Geralt gestured for Starlight to climb in. He obliged and walked over; three of the men were already seated within the cart, and two were up front controlling the horses and acting as a lookout.
"Come on, little one," the old man said, grinning, "we won't bite."
Starlight stepped up onto the wooden platform and navigated around the crates and bags of supplies, finding his seat among the men. Geralt followed behind.
...
Starlight's entire body jerked forward following the sound of hooves stomping into the dirt trail.
All seven of them sat in silence until a younger man spoke up.
"How long until the stronghold? That run killed me. I'm so ready to fall asleep."
The cart was in silence again, but another man who was sitting in the front responded to the question by holding up five fingers. Starlight guessed he meant five hours.
Bling!
The same soothing bell sounded in Starlight's ear again. Before he could look around, a few dimly glowing symbols appeared in front of his face. They read:
[Greetings, Starlight! Are you ready for your first trial?]
"Uhh...Geralt, why are there words in front of my face?"
Starlight asked with a shaky voice.
Geralt turned sharply, his eyes wide in shock. The rest of the men turned their heads to stare at the kid.
"What does it say?" Geralt asked worriedly.
"Something about a trial and... " he started to say.
Before he could finish his sentence, Starlight passed out onto Geralt's arm.
[Your Trial begins now, Descender Starlight.]