Quinn sat in his room, his eyes scanning the walls that he considered home. It was a shame, really, if he'd only been able to protect it sooner. The walls crumble, the once sturdy white stone now cracking and crashing down. Quinn stood up and opened the door to his room. The hallway, once filled with children's laughter as he and Destiny ran down the corridor, was now ablaze. The flame was a scorching purple. The calm breeze that ran in through the windows was now rough and chilling, the windows themselves shattered. Corpses of both man and monster impaled on the glass.
Quinn looked down at his own body. His brown tunic and pants fluctuated as they were replaced with sinister black robes. Eventually, his body was encased within a jet-black suit of armour. It made him look like a monster mimicking a man. A crimson gem encased within the crown of his helmet. Long spikes formed over his fingers. Then came the most horrific change: his arm was chopped to bloody bits, the flesh, fabric, and steel were cut through like air. The bits fell to the ground, disappearing into dust. A terrible green organism attached to the bleeding stump of his shoulder.
The green organism began to drink his blood. Multiple eyes with bright green irises and black slits for pupils began to appear. They extended up to a meter in length. The tip of the organism narrowed into a sickle-shaped blade. He continued down the corridor. Indifferent to the terrible screams coming from his closest friends or family members. Even as his little cousin burst through a door screaming for help, a ghastly hand reached out through the door and grabbed her. Quinn looked into the room; it was too dark to see, but the horrible sound of crunching was clear as day.
Quinn reached the end of the corridor, his father's office and quarters. The organism reached out, multiple tendrils sticking to the door, and with a screech, it pulled the door off its hinges. Quinn stepped in; his father was adorned with the family's signature armour. It was the ideal bronze, gleaming in nature. Sturdier than most found in nature. The pinnacle of House Ardanthe.
By his side was a womanly figure, long golden hair cascaded down a braid to her lower back. She turned around, revealing a handkerchief tied to her arm. Her greatsword was alight with a golden glow. Her armour was golden as well, gold, the pinnacle of holiness and faith.
"I hate it" Quinn murmured. The organism attached to him seemed to hiss in agreement.
Destiny stepped forward, her blade raised with no hesitation. Her face was hidden behind an angular helmet. Quinn could feel it, the disdain, the hatred behind her look. Quinn shared the feeling in earnest.
"I hate you... Quinn Ardanthe. You are a constant reminder of my failures, of my curse."
Quinn stared at her through the visor of his helmet, disbelief on his face. No, really, what did she know about curses? She was the pinnacle of the human world. The leader in the war against the monsters that soon invaded. Monsters that Quinn had faced in the dungeons, along with entirely new ones.
"You..." Quinn growled. "You don't get to speak about curses. You are blessed by the light, how ironic. Who would've thought some whore's daughter became the pinnacle of humanity?Meanwhile, I, a valiant paladin, get cursed by this." Quinn raised the organism, which showed its disdain by lashing out at his helmet. Only stopping mere inches from the slits of his visor.
"Take a good, long look at the monster you created. Quinn looked past Destiny and at his own father. You are not innocent either, Father. Have you no shame? Sending your son out to die a pointless death. In a war, you knew he would never survive in?" Quinn's voice became raspy. He had contained his anger long enough. He let his tendrils ripple out, and Destiny swung her sword...
***
It was only then that Quinn snapped back to reality. To true reality, the dungeons of Oplera. What had happened again? Right, he had failed to defeat that damn Valkyrie statue. He bought his party members some time and nearly defeated it, but the elf had failed to cast her arrow spell. She had nearly died if the construct hadn't left with her. Quinn understood one thing: his voice gurgled with mucus and blood.
"No wonder no one survived the damn Shift" Quinn muttered.
It was a nightmare; he was lucky enough to be as insignificant as an ant to the creatures that roamed during the Shift. Huge dragons with scales that seemed impenetrable battled colossal trolls over certain territories. They were nearly as big as House Ardanthe's estate. Quinn felt so insignificant in their presence. All the monsters seemed to agree as well.
Except for one, one pesky little purple flower. It kept giving him dreams, nightmares, visions, and hallucinations. Anything to let it sap his mana, it had nearly gotten him with the last dream. Quinn wanted to have no recollection of his mark. It seemed to target his worst fears, and that fear had snapped him awake.
Quinn slowly trembled up to his knees, a groan escaping his lips.
"I think... It's been a day now." Quinn began to shuffle onwards. Making sure to avoid the gaps made by the stone walls' movement. Roars of legendary creatures echoed from all locations, all except one, and so Quinn began to move. His legs buckled with every step, his breath was hoarse and sharp. Everything hurt. How long had it been since he had eaten? Since his arm was nearly torn off, the wound was still horrible.
Anyone else would've died, anyone else would've died of blood loss by now. Anyone except him, of course, should it be called a blessing or a curse?
"I don't even know anymore" Quinn mumbled to himself.
He was suddenly thrown back by a massive gust of wind. Something metallic clanged against the stone and skidded to stop right beside him. Quinn looked to his left, and what he saw turned out to be a scale.
"A dragon scale? How in the world did you get here?"
Quinn did not wait long to receive his answer. In the next moment, a majestic growl sounded from in front of him, the dimly lit corridor illuminated with the light of flame.
Quinn raised his shield. In the next moment, scorching air seared the surrounding area. Quinn gritted his teeth as little parts of his armour began to sizzle from the heat. Quinn peeked from behind his shield, catching a battle way beyond his, or anyone's, level, for a matter of fact. This was something not even the highest archmage of Vireth could interfere with.
A polished red dragon was fighting against… Some weird green organism. It was grotesque, with multiple pulsing veins and tubes lining its body. The body itself, could you even call it that? It was more like a eclipse shaped blob of flesh.
The dragon was winning, considering the blob was aflame and screeching in terrible pain. The blob writhed and lashed out against the dragon, breaking off more scales. Quinn watched with a mix of interest and necessity. He also pocketed the scale, who knows what that would be worth once he got out?
The organism eventually stopped screeching and stopped moving altogether. With a huff, the dragon flew away. Quinn waited, counting for two minutes. Nothing came. Quinn began to move forward with caution, if only because he could barely go any faster.
He pocketed a few more broken-off scales. He then looked at the green organism… it looked like the one in his dream, or rather, his supposed future.
"No, no, thank you." Quinn didn't approach its corpse; only an idiot would after that damn flower showed him those dreams. With a sigh, Quinn kept moving forward and forward.
***
Had it been two days? Quinn couldn't remember; he stopped counting after the first seven hours. He swore he could hear a wet shuffling behind him, but turning around showed him nothing. So his journey continued. Shumbling endlessly onward, looking for an escape, looking for a light that wasn't artificially made in the dungeon.
Meanwhile, Destiny practically burst the gate to the Ardanthe estate open. She ran, steel plates and sheets clanging against eachother with each step. She ran past maids and butlers and the family of Ardanthe. When she arrived at Roland's office door, she calmed down. Opening the door, she looked to see him with a pained expression on his face.
He looked up. The head of House Ardanthe had never looked more exhausted or emotional than now.
"Is it true?" Destiny murmured, hoping it was all a misunderstanding or misidentification.
"It is… Quinn was caught in the Shift; he is likely dead."
Destiny nodded, her contemplative face hidden from the world by her helmet. Her expression twisted into one of both relief and agony. Agony as her bestfriend was likely dead. Never to be seen or heard from again. Relief as the curse that came with him died as well.
"Does that mean… I have no reason to become a Holy Blade anymore?" Destiny asked, and Roland shook his head.
"Someone will have to bring House Ardanthe to glory, if my son cannot, you are the one who must carry that burden."
Someone else burst into the room, Carter, the man had lost all his decorum and composure.
"Sir Ardanthe … it's Quinn, he's alive, and he's also…"
***
Quinn writhed in agony. It felt like everything that made his being was torn apart. His memories, his history, his goals, his purpose. All of it being torn away. A distant growl suggested that the creature feasting on his very soul had a competitor.
Quinn coughed up pieces of his lungs and throat. Each piece of flesh was coated in a sickly blood red. "I need to-" cough "get out."
Quinn could not walk; only the gods and goddesses could save him now. He crawled, muttering silent prayers he had heard in books while researching different types of magic.
"Goddess Beline, grant me the strength to protect nature." He could not speak the elves' native language, but he could recite their prayer as best he could. "Grant me the bravery to explore the unknown. Bless your kin, and bless your land."
There was no response, no surge of strength. No vitality was added to his fading life. He was beyond saving. With a raspy gasp, he murmured his last words
"Is… this really how it ends?" Quinn muttered desperately, staring at the endless abyss that made up the ceiling of whatever section of the dungeon he was in. "Done in, by a fucking statue?" Rage seared his tongue; every word contained hatred he never knew he harboured.
Hatred for his family, hatred for Destiny and her goals. Hatred for the world for cursing him, hatred of himself. Tears filled the corners of his eyes
"Why? Why was I even born? All to be a bad omen? A laughing stock for the gods and goddesses of the world? I abided by your code! I did the right thing, the noble thing! I became a paladin despite my demonic mark, and this is how I'm repaid?!"
A hoarse voice sounded in his head.
'Give in' it rapsed 'Give in to your weakness, to your failure, to your mark. Bear it, bear it with pride. Our beloved experiment.'
Quinn looked around. The voice was nowhere near; could dungeon monsters even talk? He raised a hand weakly, flipping his middle finger up and throwing it around the room.
The voice in his head stopped, then it… they laughed boisterously.
'That's it, that's what we want to see. Struggle, struggle, little lamb. Struggle onto eternity'
In the next moment, the wet slithering of something dragging along the ground sounded from behind him. Looking over, that same damn organism had followed him, likely regaining its strength. Was it going to consume him?
"Do it, you sick abomination! Reap my flesh! Bear the Mark!" and so the abomination did, burrowing into his body from the wound of his dangling arm.
Quinn began to tremble. This damn parasite was trying to suck up all his blood. Let it try. Let it struggle on for eternity. Let it try and chew up this curse of a body. It writhed in his body, bulging out of his chest. It was unsuccessful. It couldn't take him over.
So it did the only thing it could to keep itself alive: it turned into a symbiote. It replaced his arm, in its own grotesque way. Tendrils for fingers, jutting spikes and spines out from the forearm and upper arm.