I tried to get away but was stunned by one of the sharpest pains I had ever experienced. An agony that only grew with each second, every thought further entangling me in its web as the air was ripped from my lungs.

Beads of sweat rolled down my cheeks, chills pulling my eyes to the source of woe.

A knife, one with a body of liquid silver, blackened specks flowing throughout, giving it the appearance of an inverted night.

And it was plunged straight through my chest, crimson creeping off its serrated blade. The shock of it all sent my heart into a panic as I stood there in silence.

“I’d apologize,” a familiar masculine voice whispered into my ear, causing me to wince as he slowly twisted the blade. “But I’m doing you a favor. You owe me one.” Is... is that Magenta?

“Pl-agh!” I yelped as the knife was yanked out before I could even think about stopping him.

A light push was all it took to send me falling face-first into the sanguine smattered snow.

In one last desperate attempt, I shakily propped myself up with my arms, stammering, “H-heal…” Trepidation encased my prayers for that forest green hue, blood with a silver tint(?) gushing out of the wound.

Something slammed into the back of my head not a second after, ensuring eternal darkness was the only thing that could heed my call.

- - - -

Belle

“Ugh... Did you…” I trailed off, massaging my aching head as I turned to witness a sight that seared itself into my memory. Something I knew would haunt me until my final days...

“W-what?” Was all I could muster at the sight of the body, fear nearly freezing my blood solid as a series of comets detonated overhead.

Aria was face down in a pool of silverish blood, a gaping wound in her back. 

This… isn’t real. It can’t be real.

I scrambled forward, internally shouting, “No, no, no, no!” Doing my best to stay calm, I applied pressure as I pleaded with her to wake up so she could try and heal herself, her shallow breaths cutting me like daggers. 

Her pulse is basically already gone! Shit, Aria, don’t do this to me! I can’t heal people!

What do I do? What the fuck do I do?! I don’t know shit about treating wounds outside of cleanliness and applying pressure! And she's bleeding way too fast for me to get help!

“Oh, looks like I hit the heart.” A soft masculine voice chuckled, its owner crouching to eye level as he inspected her body.

My breath caught in my throat as I glanced up. “He’s the one who?” I thought, ingesting every last detail of her attacker.

His shaggy brown hair, a golden iris that seemed to smolder like dying embers. That golden four-leaf clover tattoo around his collar bone, a partially shut amber eye that followed my gaze as one of its petals.

His black clothing with traces of gold. The series of gold needles stuck in his bicep as if he were a pin cushion. Even the holes in his pants, revealing the brass plating coating his legs.

And his carefree smile as he felt for a pulse — one that cemented my desire to murder him, to beat him into the ground until he was pleading to help her.

“Oh,” a sigh fell from his lips as he shook his head, facing me with a shrug. “Ermh, sorry for your loss?” He stowed his bloodied blade before throwing his arms open. “Hug?”

Before I realized what I was doing, I had lunged at him, fist aimed for his mouth as I shrieked, “I’m gonna k-”

“Relax, tiger,” he snickered, catching my fist with ease, a steel grip locking me in place. “I have gifts to give out. We don't have a lot of time until Etzel catches up after all.”

Something cracked in my hand as he tightened his grasp, standing up as he yanked me to my feet.

I went to throw another punch but he was faster, delivering an uppercut to my jaw that rattled my teeth.

I was thrown back from the force, but he kept hold of me, two kicks to my chest swiftly following. The air was knocked out of me as I was released, staggering backward from the force.

Barely salvaging my footing, I spit up some blood as I gripped my chest, heaving. Just how strong-

A gunshot wailed, causing me to scan my body in a panic for entrance wounds as a hand landed on my shoulder.

I felt a small prick as I was spun around, eyes widening as it hit me. I was mere inches from his nose. How the hell did he move like that?

I know that wasn’t enough time for him to get behind me. I didn’t hear any footsteps either. The snow would for sure give him away.

Leaning into my ear, he whispered, “you trying to kill me with laughter? Or are your movements actually this sluggish?”

Fueled by disdain, I grabbed for his throat, determined to cru-huh?

I can’t move? My body’s seized up?

“I would go for your heart, but the reaction is pretty entertaining.” He cracked his neck as he started stretching, “So I’m gonna do you an extra favor compared to what’s her face over there.” He yawned, turning away to peer into the distant skyline.

“You better pray I don’t find a way to move,” I growled, vainly trying to swing at him as he glanced into the distant skyline beyond that ghostly city for only a moment. “Because when I do, you’re fucking dead.”

A silent delight danced in his eyes as he pulled my arm forward, so I looked to be reaching for the heavens.

“Oh?” He smirked, undoing my fist to slowly wrap his cold, calloused pinkie around my own. “I’ll hold you to that, but if you’re lying, you’re getting a needle in the eye.” He winked, giving my finger a strong tug before his grasp broke. "And Vitra, you should probably pick someone who remembers to use their abilities next time.” My... fuck that's right.

There isn’t any remorse at all in his words. Just the same air of amusement… like a predator playing with its prey.

Casually waving as he strolled out of view, I heard him shout, “your blood is probably silver, so this likely won’t kill you! You can thank me for the toy later! Pleasant dreams!” He laughed, his voice slowly fading away.

“Get back here, you sack of shit!” I screamed after him as silence was draped over the area.

A minute full of deafening quiet passed. A minute that killed off the comets; one that culled even the ambiance of wind.

And then, eventually, the sky cleared, an absent moon revealing the sea of stars it had hidden. A never-ending onslaught of lights looked down on me.

Barring one exception, a strange misshapen blotch in the distant skyline that blighted the immaculate display of celestial beings.

One completely devoid of stars save for a single object.

A blue star that pulsated in its center as if calling out for anyone, anything… just something to end its isolation.

And by god, was it heard.

The instinct was instant. An almost primal hunger took hold, my stomach hissing for substance as I clutched it.

I licked my lips, barely able to contain myself as the star flickered with distress, my knees buckling.

The urge to puke slugged me in the gut, overshadowing the shock that I could move once again. A gulp composed of pure excitement echoed in my mind's deepest pits... A gulp that I knew didn't belong to me.

I tried to beat out my stomach’s cries but was hunched over, dry heaving, before I knew it. Silver tar burst from my mouth, black specks flowing through its hide in a fashion identical to that guy’s blade.

And it pulsed… exactly like that stuff from earlier.

My heaving continued until a black cloud clawed its way out. A serpentine cloud of shadow that seemed to swallow light itself, gradually spreading outward as more of its kin pried my jaw open.

Chills took me when their ephemeral onyx flesh met mine.

But my hunger, determined to break me, came back in droves, seemingly joining forces with the cold as my mouth began to water. 

Goosebumps sprouted on my skin, each increasing my desire to consume. An urge that couldn't be sated...

Until it graced me…

Warmth.

A blazing blue radiance spilled over my skin in waves, pulsing as the clouds snaked forward for that delectable… brilliant! I mean brilliant! That brilliant blue object, that’s it.

It was smaller, no bigger than an orange, I’d wager — a pale imitation that did nothing but offer my stomach a target.

“F-fuck…” I cursed, gnashing my teeth as my nails found their way into my arms.

One of the clouds lunged for its prize, narrowly missing as another coiled around it, preparing to swallow it whole.

Its head broke open as if it were crafting a mouth, only for one of its kin to seize it by the neck before it could feed.

My tongue ran across my lips again, starvation determined to break me as the conflict raged.

With each attack, my stomach cursed my defiance. It hissed and growled, unrelenting in its wants until I had risen to my feet, shaky but determined.

And before I knew it, I had bolted straight for the apple of my eye.

I wanted, no needed it. It just looks so god damn scrumptious…

Resistance had left at long last, the howls of unfulfilled gluttony cheering me on as I smashed through the crowd, snatching my life’s purpose with ease.

In an instant, the beautiful morse-what?

My arm? No movement?

I glanced down at the uncooperative appendage, a scowl forming when I noticed the lone cloud with its teeth sunk into me. Blood dribbled from my forearm with a silver tinge to its crimson as I reached for its throat.

I’ve waited long enough for this.

Cooing, “It’s mine,” I squeezed until a crack rang out. The irritating obstacle whimpered as it went up into smoke.

Without so much as a second thought, I shook my head as I trodded away, pressing the prize to my lips, savoring it for what felt like a thousand lifetimes.

It burned with such fervor, such passion, I could swear it was melting my skin away, but such an inconvenience mattered little.

I about dislocated my jaw to sink my teeth into the orb of long desired grace, softly whispering, “finally mine,” before I gobbled down a hunk of it without so much as chewing.

Hunger and cold waned as I collapsed, falling into warmth’s waiting arms, an embrace for the first time in what felt like eons.

A series of giggles broke through what few shreds of composure I retained, eyes skimming the heavens for that distant dark.

Hushed laughter flooded out of me like a broken faucet until I finally found it again… that shadowed spot of sky.

A dark patch broadcasting the sound of chewing and gnashing of teeth into the very essence of my being.

An umbra patch now entirely bereft of light.

Eyes slamming shut, I murmured, “finally warm,” as a set of blazing blue words whisked me away to a hard-fought slumber. 

Rune Acquired and Equipped: 

Esurient - To feed the shadow that never isn’t. A shade fated to feast on the blessed, the eyes within that blanket of black.

- - - -

Aria

Thunder serenaded me as I sat there in silence, nigh motionless as rain jumped down the various holes in this decrepit building. Lightning flickered outside as the manic howls of wind banged on the dirtied and cracked rectangular windows on the other end of the room.

An opening allowed an easy water shaft to form, rainwater continually splashing in the center of the brown circular table I was sat at. Some got on me, but I didn’t mind, exhaustion having long since stolen my will to move.

The downpour culminated in a slow, steady rot of sections of the floor. They hadn’t completely vanished, but walking in certain areas was a gamble... not that I cared about that.

And all of it was just so… soothing. I feel like I can just stay here forever, listening to the song of storm.

I slumped forward, picking up my tarnished silver and blue teacup, cracks scarring its porcelain flesh. Splinters and dirt floated in it alongside some blackish tar at the bottom, but that was fine.

I glanced straight at my host, the crisp crackles of a fireplace some ways behind me, tugging on my ears.

Something was strangely… engrossing about them. It felt as if I could stare at their marble mystique until time ends and still not be satisfied.

Silver tar ran down their cracked marble white face, head permanently transfixed on a hole in the ceiling. An odd sapling-like growth had broken through their skull, exposing a water-filled hollow interior.

The growth had a light pink tinge to its wrinkled flesh, softly throbbing just enough to threaten the fruit on its branches with gravity. Two purple orbs hung off its limbs, both carrying a musical note within their confines.

It had its own withering beverage, but it was spilled, coating a good portion of the table in a sort of black tar.

The sight alone made my heart speed u-wait, my heart?

My eyes went wide. My heart?

It’s beating? I can feel it.

I shot my gaze down to my chest, stupefaction single-handedly murdering my exhaustion.

Accidentally dropping the cup, I pressed my hands to the injury site, murmuring as the object shattered, “I’m alive?”

But how did I get here? And the last few minutes, hours? Days? Was I just sitting here the whole time?

I’m positive I was stabbed straight through the heart. I should be dead.

It finally clicked what I was sitting across from, sending my chair scraping across the floor before I scrambled to the crumbling red brick fireplace. Oddly, the floor didn’t seem too damaged here.

Positioning myself so I could see the statue out of the corner of my eye, I held my hands toward the fire, the building shivering from the wind as I wondered, “W-what's going on?” 

That statue isn’t exactly making it easy to relax. I’d like to know what the heck happened to it. Because I much prefer its earlier iterations.

I’m not sure if the building will last much longer. The storm sounds like it’s picking up. Although, this fire isn't exactly strong, so moving on from here may be an easy decision.

"Is that?" I thought, scarcely discerning the outline of text within the fire as I scooched forward.

Aria, was it? Consider this a gift on behalf of an associate of mine.

He broke the grace period, so I have taken steps to amend that.

I helped you consume a sunstone whilst unconscious, so anticipate a new skill.

In addition, take the leather pouch left around that flame. A note should be attached offering advice on combat and an apology from my acquaintance, the aggravating imp. 

But read quickly. Your safety fades with that blaze. I threw out a blank dream for your temporary refuge within this nightmare. It is treated as your own and functions as normal. Details are merely filled in by the dominant presence in an area, the nightmare in this case.

Information-wise, I’ve unlocked some terms in that book of yours. Read them at your leisure, provided your sanity survives the encounter, of course. 

If you require more aid, supplies are often stored in nightmares for future excursions. A luminescent handprint or X made of mitus are two common examples of markers. On the slim possibility you don’t know what that means; think of a substance that adopts the appearance of an inverted cosmos... like the blade that wounded you.

You’ve likely seen it, and if you haven’t, you’ll see it rather often now. It’s a part of you. You probably know that, however. 

If you don’t? That offers the implication that you’re new. Alceria hasn’t seen a single fresh face since the birth of Layksis 4,000 years ago. 

Which leaves the mind to wonder… if you weren’t new, why would they place a grace period on you? 

Regardless of experience, fortune was in your cards. Your blood is silver.  Your dreams would have devoured you otherwise. 

You best hope the redhead is the same. Happy Hunting - Janus

The fire swiftly swapped its hue to cosmic blue, new text spawning as Janus’ words sank in.

Devour me? My dreams? That’s… he’s exaggerating. He has to be. 

That… worrying tidbit aside. This confirms it. I wasn’t dreaming. I was stabbed and somehow survived. And Belle, she’s likely still in danger then. I have to find her. She might think I'm dead too.

But that name… Layksis. Is that just a coincidence? That was my segment of a map my friends and I made for a class project almost a decade ago.

The names of their pieces are escaping me at the moment, but I remember mine distinctly. 

“Priorities.” I reminded myself. Think on this later. Reuniting with Belle is goal number one. I just pray she’s… no, no. She’s alive; she has to be.

I peered into the blaze as it dimmed to just above embers, worry firmly locking me in its grasp.

New Skill Acquired: 

Render the Void {Duality} - Never has nothing made me feel more fulfilled.

Tear a hole in the fabric of reality, allowing the creatures of the void, they who never were, a chance to be.

Max Tears Permitted: 3 Value: 2

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow as the possibilities began to flow into me. That definitely has potential. And it’s a value of two? That means I can craft with it.

I wanted to test it first, but I have a terrible feeling I won’t be able to access my menus should it go out. 

All the potential fuel in here is soaked, too. So I’m pleading it meshes with another skill well enough.

Craft?

“Yes,” I nodded as the remaining flames split down the middle, one side cosmic blue. The other? An angelic white.

Motivated by the still-dimming blaze, I wasted no time on my pick. 

A thought was all it took to dye the white flame forest green. One identical to that progenitor’s shade.

My choice was Mend, a product of Nurture. 

And a nod was what shot it straight to the ceiling with a screaming finale, sending me scrambling backward in alarm.

But, contrary to what I expected, the blaze let me be, instead going quietly into the night with the parting words of:

Mend(ers of) the Void - “And to you, I bestow the gift of veins. Let purpose guide you as it has me.”

Bestow unto the creatures of the void mending, Nurture’s core tenet.

Note: Healing done by way of the void inflicts increased cost upon the host’s body. Potency is now increased by both the number of tears and allied plants. Value: 3

“If I can’t figure out healing, I’ll leave it to them.” I smiled, eyebrow raising in confusion as my hand bumped into something.

My head swiveled around, revealing the brown pouch and note Janus had mentioned. I must have missed it in my dash over.

I tore the note off as I got to my feet, making my way toward the sole exit. A white door with paint peeling, its copper handle lightly corroded. If my safety was tied to that fire, I should get moving as quick as I can.

Pressing my back to the door, I strapped the pouch to my outer thigh as I began reading, the constant lightning offering plentiful illumination.

Ugh… I’m sorry for stabbing you. In my defense, you were bound to get infected with mitus eventually. The first time it binds with you isn’t typically pleasant. I figured I’d expose you to it, so it doesn’t happen in a nightmare. But some people (Read: Janus) had an issue with my method of infecting you via stabbing.

Let’s just get this garbage over with.

See that pouch? Of course, you do; it’s how you’re reading this. In it are grenades. Pin. Pull. Five Seconds. Boom. (Throwing is technically optional.)

Combat: Skills (and specific Runes) are fueled by a substance called animus. It only materializes when one with silver blood comes into contact with mitus. (You’re welcome.) Animus is the silver tar you've seen. Mitus would be the black specks within it.

Skills are free for those who’ve never been exposed… if there’s still such a thing. But they are much weaker.

Anyway, if your blood goes completely black? Heart (generally) stops. The amount of animus consumed depends on several variables. The most important one?

Use them too quickly in succession, and consumption increases exponentially in tandem with their potency.

High risk, high reward, right?

Skills are a far more complex vector than that, but I haven’t the patience, and Janus added an entry on animus to that loathsome little book of yours for a reason. They have another price you're agreeing to pay by their continued usage, but I'll let you figure that one out. I wouldn't wanna rob you of such a coveted experience.

Lastly, this nightmare? It’s during a time of remembrance. That means echoes of the past are spilling into the present.

Particularly potent memories can even interact with you somewhat. Most Alcerians aren’t keen on speaking of the past since Solis Morenta, so lean into it or don’t. I honestly couldn’t care less.

Now, if the clock hits midnight in a nightmare? Get to the center before then, and you’ll probably be fine… for like five more minutes assuming you don't land a killing blow on the host. (Personally, I have money down on you dying, but that’s me.)

And please, for the love of the sun, be entertaining. That’s all I ask. Well, and your untimely demise. I would like to make some extra cash, after all. - C

“My heart will?” I skimmed the note a few times, hopeful the words would somehow morph as I popped open the pouch's top. He better be messing with me.

He wasn’t kidding about the pouch at least. Two spheres with hexagonal holes encompassed their obsidian-like skin, a pin dangling off the side.

I closed the pouch as I withdrew my book, allowing flames to bloom as the bone-chilling thought reared its ugly head, “just what am I fighting?”

Why couldn’t entering that room have just gone something along the lines of, “boom, here’s the body you want now go away.” And why did I have to get infected? I was a lot happier knowing I couldn't die just from using my skills.

At least I got a bit of information, I guess?

It helped make some things a bit clearer.

The most obvious one being: this guy’s a dick. I'd really like to hear about why he tried to kill me, though. He's friends with Julian so I'd assume they're working together.

I just pray I never have to worry about that cost he “kindly” declined to tell me about.

I glanced down at the book's new category, History/Phenomena, the flames forging a litany of entries into this aged beige as I selected it.

History

Solis Morenta

Phenomena

Animus

Mitus

Mourning of Mementos

Hallowed Seed

I was tempted to select animus first, but curiosity had drug my fingers to Solis Morenta. What could cause an entire region, possibly a whole world, of people to refuse to talk about the past?

My interest peaked; I let the flame do its dance as curiosity gave way to regret, a disturbed chill caressing my spine.

Solis Morenta - The moment the moon devoured the sun’s body on the Night of Shrieking Feasts. Mere seconds after the looming lunar lord deemed the bastard’s layer unworthy of its name. He kicked and screamed and pleaded as she fed, the petulant ingrate.

And yet, he learned of safety in the end… his end. For we are one now, forever and always.

Famine would follow in the immediate, but eventually, the world now bathed in rays of perpetual silver, learned to accept its lord… 

She who became gold.

“What the fuck?” I thought, the gravity of this new information threatening to crush me.

I took a deep breath in a fruitless attempt to satiate the unease torturing my nerves, peeking through a hole in the ceiling to witness the blackened sky.

How does the moon eat the sun? That doesn’t make any sense. Is it metaphorical? Something like a permanent eclipse?

And why isn’t everything some frozen hellscape, then? Vanith was freezing, sure, but it was habitable.

Forcing myself to think on it later (no matter how much I felt otherwise), I went to tap animus but froze like a deer in headlights.

The harsh screeches of shattered glass had sounded off.

And it sounded like it came from this room.

The culprit was located via another lightning flash.

That statue’s tea cup. It had fallen. It hadn’t moved, but that didn’t indicate innocence to me. After that ordeal in my house, I’m not taking any chances.

Grabbing the door handle, I slipped my book away, eyes firmly locked on my “host.”

I had to fiddle with it for a moment, but eventually, it opened with a low creak as I backed into a hallway.

I nudged the door shut as I spun around to a sight I couldn’t have been more bewildered by.

A hallway, just as scarred and ruined as the prior section… but it’s snowing?

And is that a person at the other end?

Dely

Eyyyy I did the thing... Imma just go pass out now. 40 hours of sustained consciousness is less fun than it sounds. I'll see ya when (if) I see ya. And no, I didn't edit or write this on such little sleep... I just hit the publish button. We have to get to the 44 hour mark for me to do something so reckless.