He bent down and touched the rune on the floor, "How bad can it be…?"
As his hand made contact with the rune he braced, preparing for a sudden jolt or activation—nothing.
He poked it again, still nothing.
"Right, well. Fine…" he said before proceeding to rub his entire palm over the rune, he stamped on it a few times and even decided to ask nicely: "Do something? Please?"
It was a long shot, being able to activate the rune on the floor with just a touch, and he decided to put his intelligence stat to use. It was better than average, he guessed anyway: thirty-nine was thirteen times higher than his partially-awakened level, pre-titles at least.
With a thirteen-times higher than previous intelligence, he actually thought he'd be… well smarter. But in the end, he just felt, the same as always? Oh well.
Not much time passed before he had an idea—one born from the jungle around him, "Essence."
Elias had not mastered his control over the churning sea of corruption within him, but he reckoned he could at least move a little of it through his channels. He placed his hand back over the rune on the ground, closed his eyes and well—'willed' it. He pictured his centre—his core, as a type of watery sphere within him, he pulled on it, tugging at the Essence within to move along the same channels as his mana did. As he concentrated and pulled with his mind, he felt something move, just a slither.
It was working. He felt the Essence within begin to mobilise as it drew down across his chest, then his shoulder and then all the way down his arm until it reached his hand. He grinned and opened his eyes. It was glowing, his arm, just slightly. The glow reached the ground and he felt something warm up beneath his hand. He kept channelling his Essence until he heard something: A deep rumbling.
It echoed throughout the cavern as he felt the warmth turn into heat and he pulled his hand away, a deep crimson light pulsed through the rune, it quickly amplified from a light to a glaring beam of energy that pierced the air in all directions.
The gravel beneath his feet began to react to the light, it shook as the rune's power seemed to push at everything around it.
"Well, that's not good." He said as he looked around, trying to make sense of what was going on—activating the rune had felt like the right thing to do for him at the time, but the right thing a few seconds ago was undoubtedly the wrong thing for him now—yes, he had been desperately trying to activate it… But he was now experiencing post-activation clarity.
Despite himself being the cause for the rune's awakening, the now pulsing energy emanating from it began to resonate with him. It was as if the slither he'd pushed into the rune had simply opened a dam of Essence within the slumbering etching.
The corruption within him began to pulse in time with energy around him and he gritted his teeth—he currently had enough corruption within to last for several days of drawn-out fighting and way more than enough to turn every adventurer in Eridoria against him—if the clawed feet weren't enough by themselves.
[Essence: 732 / 15]
"Too late," he thought.
The energy around him coalesced into orbs of light surrounding him, which slowly formed into runes similar to that of which he activated. They didn't look like the runes he was familiar with, the ones that were called upon by skills—they felt more ancient or, primal?
The runes formed as the cavern continued to resonate with the energies around him. His instincts didn't scream of danger, and the rapturous flow of corruption that was seeping into his flesh made him want it to continue.
Thump!
Clarity surged for a moment as his mind visualised the watery sphere of crimson within his chest—its waters now trying to burst out in all directions as it tried to meet the oncoming torrents from the surrounding runes. Along with the visualised conflict came physical gusts as he cursed breathlessly. He wouldn't been thrown to the edge of the clearing had the runes not all been battering him with the power equally.
He looked again at the flashing notification:
[Essence: 751 / 15]
"Come on! Too much is too mu—" Elias yelled.
But he was cut off. The energies pulsed a final time as they seemed to reach their pinnacle, and then, at his core, he felt it—only for a mere instant as dread washed over him—the void.
A complete apathy of sensation took over as the void in his core erupted in all directions, conjured by the swirling crimson energies.
Darkness completely enraptured him as his body escaped reality. It was the same as the portal that took him here.
His vision faded entirely as the pressure intensified, the crushing weight of nothingness clamping down as he felt as though he would splinter into pieces. The haunting lack of control he felt was almost terrifying…yet, apathy overtook him as time lost all context. The moment stretched on for an impossibly long moment and then—he felt a lurch of physicality overtake him as he slammed into a solid surface, colour returned as did his emotions, a wave of adrenaline shooting through him.
"I hate that, by the Twins and the System and by whatever darkness fuels this forsaken dungeon…I HATE that."
He had slammed down onto a solid stone surface, not cavernous, but slabbed. A sepia-toned array of slabs adorned a large room lit by sconce torches. A slightly darker-toned run of slabs led towards an archway pointing down a long corridor. It stretched on for a hundred or so meters and Elias couldn't make out what lay at the end, although he suspected misery and pain—or maybe a corner?
Above him the ceiling extended in an arch well above what was necessary as the decorated masonry provided an almost regal feel to the area. The room itself was empty and Elias hadn't expected anything different.
He stood and shook off both the adrenaline and the numbness of the void. He paced back and forth as he allowed his wits to return.
He also waited for the expected doom and gloom of another system notification. A minute passed, and he raised both his hands in disbelief, "Really?! NOTHING?! Well, I guess that's just about right, why do you have to torment me you stupi—"
Before he could finish the primal and ancient voice of the dungeon resurged, louder and deeper than before,
[You have chosen to activate the Trial of Orus - Aspirant. May the Cosmos watch over your path...]
As the words echoed in his mind, the words crawled across a corrupted notification. The notification faded and then just as the notification completely vanished from his view, a second appeared, brighter and more opaque, and the words leapt across as the feral voice screamed in his head:
[BUT YOU DON'T HAVE ONE!]
Elias gripped his head in his hands as he felt a searing pain claw through him. He fell to the floor, "FUCK! Agh!" he screamed.
"Stupid, that was stupid… Agh… what the fuck Elias? What the FUCK?! As if you couldn't just let it be, sure, antagonise the omnipotent and decidedly twisted entity that oversees all existence!"
His thoughts swam through his mind. He didn't dare speak another word aloud. He wasn't even sure keeping it in his head would be enough.
More than a few minutes passed as Elias writhed in agonising pain, it faded—but even the echo of the voice that called out to him was enough to send stabbing pains through his head. "Why did it say that? I thought it was… well, I didn't think it would respond to me? What's going on?" Elias wracked his brain for any semblance of rationale for what just happened, conversations with Uthred, Jacob and even random adventurers passing through the village sprang into his mind: "No, nothing… No one mentioned anything like this happening?! Is it the corruption? I need answers!"
He stood, a mixture of horror, anticipation and rage engulfed his spirit as he crunched down on his teeth. "Fuck you. I didn't even want to be here!"
A half-lie, he wanted to get stronger and learn to fight, yes. But he did NOT want to be in this aggravating nightmare of a dungeon. "Come on, then!" he spat, the coppery taste of blood following his words.
And with that, he moved onwards, refusing to quell the rage within.
As he entered the passageway he saw that what lay ahead was simply a turn in the corridor. He followed it, with only one path forwards he had little else to do and the burning anger he felt coursing through him left him with no other recourse than to move and hope there was something to take it out on. The crimson tint overlaying his vision pulsed with intensity.
She stared intently at the young woman before her. Her naked flesh speaking of a perfection only seen in art. Her pale-marble like skin was free of imperfection. Her emerald eyes, deep and enchanting. Her lips, full and red. Physically, the woman in front of her was flawless. All that looked at her would stare in awe. Such was the bless—and burden—of those touched by Gods' favour.
She tilted her head slightly as she studied her own reflection, looks were deceiving. Her very presence caused others to shrink away and avert their eyes. Her beauty didn't hold the inviting allure of the Elves—as Rose often reminded her. No. Hers was the untouchable beauty of the divine—cold, perfect and… isolating.
Only one who walked the same path as she did could understand the loneliness she felt, the loneliness that her power and blessing carved into her spirit.
Elara's arms encircled her own body in an embrace, her soft fingers pressing into the flesh of her shoulders.
The past weeks she'd spent with Mira had unearthed memories, or the lack of memories. Unlike all others that walked Eridoria, she had been born with her Innate Ability already awakened. So rare in fact that it emerged perhaps once in a generation, if that.
And all on Eridoria understand that those who were born with the ability, her ability. Were children only to the Gods, merely carried temporarily by the bodies of the mortal women that birthed them.
And so, she had been taken to the Order, only days after her birth. She was raised under their guidance and protection, never in solidarity, but always in solitude. Knights trained her body for combat. Preached filled her mind with the word of the Twins and yet, she had stood alone. For all eighteen years of her life. The sole chosen in not only the walls of the Order, but the whole of Eridoria. Their reverence and averted gazes formed a prison that felt more confining that any prison of stone or iron ever could.
It wasn't until barely a year past—when Haestin had been assigned as her guardian—that she'd first experienced something approaching friendship, if it could even be called that. Haestin's gruff candour and occasional outbursts had felt like water on parched earth. She had been desperate for it, for a chance to feel like a person and not a tool for the Order.
And now, through some twist of fate, she was blessed with Foust's easy smiles, Rose's sharp wit, and even little Mira's innocent affection, and, even knowing the child was a temporary companion did little to diminish the comfort her presence brought.
The memory of Mira's tiny arms wrapped around her waist flooded back—how the child had sought comfort in her embrace and unknowingly offered her something in return. Her fingers tightened against her skin as she closed her eyes: in all her eighteen years walking Eridoria as the Gods' chosen vessel, she had never felt an embrace.
She had never known the simple comfort of a hug until a grieving child had offered one without thought or hesitation.
"Your plans are not for those so underserving as me, Arwen, Arvos. I know this. I will stay on the path; I will complete the mission so graciously bestowed upon me," Elara said softly as tears began to well in her eyes. "Where those before me have failed, I will succeed."—"If only for no one else to feel life bereft of the embrace of their mother."
The notification that had been present since her birth emerged again, the almost golden orange of the Twin's glowed in her vision.
[Quest: Save Eridoria — Objective: Cleanse the Calamity of the World 0 /1 — Sub-objective: Defeat the Calamity of Erudition 0/1]
She stared at the text, how many chosen had fallen to the same quest? How many had stood where she stood right now, gazing at these words and feeling this same overbearing burden?
The knowledge that she might fail as all those before her had clawed at her spirit, yet she refused to give in to such thoughts.
She would be different. She had to be.
The slight translucence of the notification gave way to the vastness of the vista before her as she turned her head to the open window, silky netting covering the entrance to the balcony ahead, obscuring the detail of her form but allowing an awe-inspiring view of The Aeas; the 'Pinnacle'—the capital of the Empire. Thousands of stone brick buildings with slate rooves decorated the marbled streets, and all were sheltered in a wall so domineering that if she faced it as a foe, she would surrender on the approach.
Every face of the wall was adorned with golden sculptures of the Book of Eridoria. The Gods, the Saints, the Holy Warriors of ancient times passed, and the scenes of their valorous deeds spread along the face of the wall as far as the eye could see—every single adornment was enchanted with the mana of the Clergy and the blessing of the Order.
No army had ever breached the walls of The Aeas.
The city pulsed with life beneath her window: merchants bartering, children playing, citizens going about their day oblivious to the apocalypse hanging above their heads. They didn't know that corruption had spread far beyond the borders, that aberrations now threatened even the heartlands, or that their salvation rested on the shoulders of an eighteen-year-old girl who had never known something so simple as a hug.
The weight of her quest pressed upon her spirit, yet here, at this moment, watching the sunset cast its glow across The Aeas, she found a strange calmness. They were worth saving—all of them, even those who looked upon her with fear and awe.
The wall of The Aeas might never have fallen to enemy forces, but the Calamity's cared nothing for walls of stone and steel, no matter how enchanted. It would come, eventually. She had to be enough for all their sakes.