When I awoke, I found myself lying in a forest unlike any I had ever seen. The leaves were not green but a shadowed black, and the trunks of the trees gleamed pale white, as though bleached of life. The air carried whispers—low, indistinct murmurs that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. Though I could not make out the words, they filled me with a gnawing unease, as if the forest itself were alive and watching.
I tried to recall how I had come here. My memory was fractured, blurred. The last thing I remembered was Aeola—my sister—being swarmed by creatures, her scream echoing as she fell. Panic surged through me. Aeola… was she safe? I tried to rise, but pain shot through my body, leaving me weak and sore.
The bushes rustled. My heart froze. From the shadows emerged a monstrous spider, its fangs dripping venom that hissed as it struck the ground. With terrifying speed, it lunged, releasing a sticky web meant to bind me in my helpless state.
But before it reached me, a piercing screech split the air. In an instant, the spider's body was cleaved in two, its blood spraying across my face. I flinched, stunned, as an old man stepped forward, holding a blade cleverly hidden within the handle of a cane. With practiced ease, he sheathed the weapon and leaned on it as though it were nothing more than a walking stick. He extended his hand toward me.
I hesitated, studying him. His eyes were calm, his presence strangely reassuring. Finally, I accepted his hand, groaning as I rose and clutched my aching side.
"Looks like you're injured, little one," he said, his voice deep yet gentle. He touched my ribs, and instantly the pain vanished. Strength returned to my limbs as though I had never been wounded.
"Who are you?" I asked, astonished.
"An old man enjoying his retirement in this forest," he replied with a faint smile.
"And where… is here?"
His smile softened into something almost sympathetic. "Durak's Forest, of course, my boy."
The name struck me like a blow. Confusion swirled in my mind, but before I could speak, he continued, "Come to my hut. You can explain everything there."
"No," I said firmly. "My sister is in danger. I need to find her."
He studied me for a moment, then tapped his cane lightly against my head. The sting made me wince. "Perhaps I can help," he said. "But first, let us talk in my hut."
Reluctantly, I followed. His smile was disarming, and something about him made resistance feel foolish.
The hut was modest but warm. He led me to a lounge, disappeared briefly, and returned with two steaming cups of tea. "Now," he said, sipping his drink, "tell me what happened."
I recounted everything—the attack, my confusion, my desperate need to save Aeola. He listened silently, his eyes fixed on me, his long white beard stroking against his chest as he thought.
When I finished, he asked suddenly, "You don't possess mantra, do you?"
The truth stung. I lowered my gaze and nodded.
"And yet you still believe you can save her?"
"Yes," I said without hesitation.
He leaned back, stroking his beard. "Very well." He rose, collected the cups, and carried them to the kitchen. I followed, expecting wisdom, warnings—anything.
"That's it?" I asked. "No advice? No guidance?"
He turned, smiling slyly. "Unless you have something to trade. I am a merchant, after all. I sell equipment to adventurers who stumble into this forest."
He led me to the front of his hut, which opened into a vast shop filled with strange and powerful artifacts. Some glowed faintly, others pulsed with ominous energy. Whenever I reached for one, he would warn, "Don't touch that—it's cursed."
Then, from the far end of the shop, I saw it: a black ring with a purple jewel fractured by seven cracks. Ten silver symbols were engraved around its band, and as I approached, a familiar voice whispered in my mind. You're finally here. Welcome.
I froze. It was the same voice that had haunted my dreams.
"What is this?" I asked.
The old man's eyes narrowed. "A cursed ring. I found it long ago, during my journey through the Ninth Haven."
"The Ninth Haven?" I repeated, bewildered.
"You don't know of the Havens?" His surprise was genuine. He placed a hand on my shoulder. "Long ago, from the river of creation, two celestial beings were born—Haven and Void. Haven, embodiment of good, planted the first world tree. From its roots grew the First Haven. Every thousand years, a new seed bore another Haven, greater and more beautiful than the last. Those who passed Haven's trials ascended upward. This world is but one of many, my boy."
His words left me entranced, my mind spinning with the enormity of it.
He gestured to the ring. "If you want it, take it. I've tried to sell it for years."
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Of course. When you have real coin, come back and buy something proper."
I bowed gratefully. "Thank you. I owe you one."
His expression darkened. "Don't go around giving 'I owe yous,' kid. But I'll accept it. Just bring me a pack of cigarettes next time."
I laughed nervously, pocketed the ring, and stepped outside.
But then a voice spoke. What's wrong? Getting cold feet?
I froze. "Who's there?"
It's me, you fool—the ring.
Shock coursed through me. "You're the entity from my dreams?"
Of course. You followed my directions, and now you've found me. Put me on.
Suspicion gnawed at me. "How can I trust you?"
Because I'm the only one who can help you save your sister.
Aeola's face flashed in my mind—her scream, her fall. My hesitation shattered. I slipped the ring onto my finger.
Agony consumed me. My veins bulged, glowing with a sickly purple substance that coursed through my body. Pain unlike anything I had ever known wracked me.
The voice laughed. You lack mana, so I must use your soul's essence. I will devour your body and reshape it into a vessel worthy of my power.
"You tricked me!" I gasped.
I tricked no one. Power always comes at a price. Yours is hunger.
My strength faltered. "And if you drain me completely?"
Then you were never the right choice.
"Who are you?" I whispered, barely clinging to life.
Think of all I've told you. What name fits me best?
Only one word came to mind. "Gluttony."
The ground trembled. The ring flared with light, one of its cracks sealing shut. My pain subsided, leaving me weak, powerless.
Correct, idiot. I am the Sin of Gluttony. I will forge you into a warrior whose name shakes the Havens themselves.
"But I can't even move," I said bitterly.
Then eat. Consume something with mana. That is the path forward.
As his laughter echoed in my mind, the forest filled with the sounds of monsters closing in, their hunger matching my own.