Sobs echoed from within a stone chamber, with only a small open gateway letting in the nightly air. The cries bounced from wall to wall, generating an amalgamation of sounds before eventually spilling into the outside world.
The stone floor was carved with strange symbols and markings. Like a calm river, thick blood slowly trickled down the patterns, following the grooves that had been etched deep into the stone.
Markings intertwined with one another, forming winding paths that guided the crimson flow toward a narrow channel near the gateway, as if the chamber itself had been built to carry the offering beyond its walls.
Cold and afraid, a young boy trembled on the ground, his knees and arms scraped open like a torn piece of paper. Despite his small hands attempting to cover his wounds, his body’s natural bleeding was nearly impossible to stop with gaps so large.
Rattling against the stone and clutched in his hand was a single blade, one that was often used for cutting animal hide. Its edge was sharp with jagged ridges to encourage splintering the veins as metal ran through flesh. He hadn’t fought anyone for his freedom, but due to the nature of the structure he was in, running would be nearly impossible.
His parents were subdued while he was taken away, and his younger sister was threatened with death if he did not step up.
No older than twelve, he had been offered up as a sacrificial lamb to the gods of his tribe. His teeth clattered as tears blended with the steady stream of blood trickling from his skin.
As his consciousness started to fade, he leaned his head back against the rectangular stone altar behind him, the world slowly coming to a close. He was left alone in the darkness, and it seemed like he would remain that way for the rest of his extremely short life. His mind filled with regret, he cursed the traditions under his breath for taking away the perfect path he had set for himself.
Swallowing hard, he gazed upon the small exit before him. By now, most of the people who had attended his sacrificial ceremony might have gone home. Bodies were often not retrieved until the following morning, that much he knew.
There was little hope for salvation, and even less time to act. So in a final act of defiance, the boy gasped, using the last of his breath to conjure one final dream. If he could not achieve perfection, then he would create a fictional reality within his mind, all to preserve the peace.
The slow and steady spill of blood came to a halt as the boy felt his body grow colder. He shivered from head to toe, unable to even gather his thoughts anymore. Even if he tried to walk now, he would be stopped by the unending vibration.
“Screw the gods.”
“Screw tradition.”
Reaching out his hand to grasp the stars above, he let out one final curse onto the world.
Overfilled with emotion, his Birthmark flared an unnatural color. The Magical Gears within him activated one last time, illuminating the dark chamber and encasing it in a vibrant cyan hue. His body naturally tried to fix itself, casting small bits of fire magic to warm his now blood-deprived veins.
The skin on his bones had become pale, only made worse by the light of magic. If someone else were to take one glimpse at him, it wouldn’t be an absurd conclusion to believe he was a ghost who had come for revenge.
But this boy was very much alive.
The gaps in his arms oozed with the encroaching scent of death, the smell of grilled meat invading his nostrils. All the while, his body collapsed onto the ground, spilling the last of his blood in a splatter, marking the final location of his fall.
At first, his body twitched in a final death woe before coming to a complete halt. His eyes fluttered closed, not knowing which one would be his last. The warm blood helped soothe his pain even a little bit, providing him with a final sense of sanctuary.
With his last breath, he dreamed of his younger sister, living together with her and his parents far away from the cursed city they were raised in. He had heard many stories of the abundant land of Fridan, where freedom and human rights took priority over everything else.
But his yearning was merely a dream, one that would now never come true.
However…
While his body had given itself up to the embrace of death, his Soul still had intentions to live. His magical gears slowly fluctuated to a close, fueled only by the determination of the boy’s final desire to live.
There was no magic to accelerate healing, and generating blood was far beyond the capabilities of a young boy. So instead, it would result in far more drastic measures.
Like two planets aligning, the Soul of the boy named Uru found itself linked with one who once had similar desires. Jolts of magical energy struck out of the boy’s flesh, thunder crackling within the small chamber.
The cityfolk who had fallen asleep quickly stepped outside their homes, facing the tall stone pyramid they had built for sacrificial purposes. Seeing it as dissatisfaction from their god, people bowed on the ground in waves, their foreheads thudding against the ground beneath them.
Some cried, while others begged for forgiveness. But none of their prayers had gone toward the boy, or the countless others who had been sentenced to death because of adult desires. This angered the Soul even more, forcing itself to connect with the only savior it could find.
Like a primordial force, arcane energy blasted out from the top of the chamber, raining debris into the city. People who had been too occupied in prayer to look up were crushed immediately, the sound of their bones and flesh squeezing against heavy stone invoking screams from those around them.
The boy’s heart beat once more, its drumming rhythm vibrating the very soil beneath them.
“Yucu Zsaa! Have mercy on us!” an elder cried, his arms raised high into the sky and knees buckled to the ground. His gaze was set upon the extraordinary sight occurring at the tower before him.
From the spilt blood, black ooze rose from the ground, a cloud of darkness hovering above the once sacred grounds. The world flashed images of unexplainable horror, the accumulation of centuries’ worth of nightmares materializing before the city’s very eyes.
Molded from spilt blood, a body started to take shape rapidly, coming to life with each bit of magical energy it drained from the world around it. If the creature being summoned originally had no physical form, then it would make one from all that had been spilled through regrets and despair.
The boy’s finger twitched, his eyes finally reacting to the sudden flashes of light occurring before him. His gaze scanned the world around him as he remained still on the ground, unable to move from the drain on his energy.
A loud roar coming from behind nearly deafened the boy, cracking the very foundations of the earth. Using all his might, he twisted his head just enough to see the animal protecting him and giving him newfound life.
His mind ran through the various possibilities of what it could be. From the time spent on his academic studies, his theories pointed to various answers, all linking to animals with spirit-like features and capabilities.
But reality was much more cruel than he could have expected.
Standing tall behind him was a creature nearly ten times his height, the size of a small building in his city. The lightning being shot around it gave the mysterious creature some much needed illumination.
Four-legged, clad with dark gray skin that looked like stone, the monster looked down upon the boy. Its legs resembled those of an animal, yet its paws and individual digits consisted of human torsos. The tips where the claws would be were the heads of human-like creatures.
To call them human was being generous, as the heads were deprived of nearly all facial features, with only a single mouth spread across the entire face. They had top and bottom rows of inconsistently sized, jagged teeth that looked very much like the edges of the knife he had used.
The face was the most striking feature, possessing twelve crimson red eyes that had a jewel-like appearance. It had perfect cylindrical fangs like the ones possessed by saber-toothed tigers, protruding out from its mouth.
Half of its skin was covered in a fur-like surface, while the other half was simply naked skin. It possessed no tail, but instead four extra sets of extremely muscular human arms extending from the back of its body.
It was truly a mismatch of different creatures, an amalgamation of beasts that often haunted children’s nightmares all fused into one.
With another roar, the sky split apart, the clouds obeying the authority that was now present on the ground beneath them. Dark particles of magic oozed from the creature’s skin, plunging the city into complete darkness, as if the texture of the world had been painted over in black.
“Good evening.”
A deep, distorted voice called out. The boy darted his head left and right, only to find that besides him and the strange creature, there was nobody else present. His mind felt a heavy, static-like sensation replaying over and over across his brain.
The constant roars of the monster behind him eventually started to dull, his ears setting the noise in the background as the mysterious voice spoke to him again.
“Uru, I haveth come forth according to thine summons.”
The sound wasn’t physical. It felt more like something deep within his mind had gained the ability to speak. The voice was omnidirectional, not caught by his ears but instead by his consciousness.
As he turned to face the broken wall to his left, he saw a dark silhouette plastered on the wall like a poor paint job. Taking the figure of a tall, skinny man, the shadow wore a singular, long top hat. Just like a shadow cast from light, the being possessed no facial features and no physical body.
He stood quietly before bending forward into a short bow. Everything about this silhouette seemed like an impossible theory that had come to life. How could it bend if it didn’t exist in the physical realm?
Uru’s first instinct was to look back, expecting someone to be standing behind him, but he was only met with the night sky.
“W-who are you?” Uru asked, his voice cracking with every word. His vocal cords trembled, half from the trauma of being brought back to life and half from seeing two unreal creatures defending him.
The large animal-like creature stared out into the distance as the skies darkened further. The shadow, on the other hand, simply stood tall. It had no eyes, but Uru could absolutely feel its intense stare.
“We haveth no name. But rest assured, we are only here to serve you, Master.”
He spoke, vanishing from the wall. In the blink of an eye, the shadow formed itself again underneath Uru’s feet, giving the illusion that it was his own. But the movements, mannerisms, and even the clothing did not match one another.
It felt strange. One second Uru had been on the brink of death, and the next he was alive again, far more nourished than he had ever been. The city he hated so much was now painted red with the blood and entrails from the explosive debris.
Of course, it wasn’t to the point where the population was unrecoverable, but the shock froze him nonetheless. He gulped hard, thinking of a response to conjure. From Uru’s perspective, he didn’t know whether or not these mysterious creatures were willing to let him live if he cooperated.
As if reading his mind, the shadow spoke in a composed tone.
“Thou canst decline our summons if it be thy wish. As for our identity, we are one and the same, beings forged in the vast emptiness of dreams.”
Before Uru could reply, or even ask more questions, a high-pitched, obnoxious voice interrupted their conversation.
“Woot, woot! What a summon you’ve got yourself there!”
Dispersing itself, the shadow surrounded the boy, turning him into an island within a sea of darkness. Uru snapped his head back toward the source of the voice. The monster that had been roaring relentlessly suddenly halted, its non-existent eyes gazing upon the long silver hair that dragged across the bloodstained stone floor.
“The Manastream must really be damaged if it’s spewing out 「PRIMES」 left and right. This is what, like three at this point?”
Her bare feet slapped against the cold stone, splashing as they struck puddles of Uru’s blood. Most people would be disgusted by the interaction, but she simply walked forward as if the disturbance were natural to her.
Behind Quintella was another tall figure, bearing a striking resemblance to the shadow. But one more glance was enough to tell Uru that his assumptions were wrong. He didn’t know what felt more intense, the monster on standby or the two crimson-eyed “humans.”
“MASTER, WE BEG THEE TO RETREAT!”
Flipping her hair, Quintella rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I forgot this guy talks like this.”
With his arm raised, Sulva walked past his master as a black and red orb welled at the tip of his fingertip. The strange magical phenomenon emitted short bursts of lightning, not enough to strike with force but just enough to sting.
“BODY! PROTECT THINE MASTER WITH THY LIFE!”
Roaring, the monster leapt toward Sulva. Its immense body mass alone would have been enough to pulverize the cursebearer into nothing but small splinters of bone and organs. In theory, the battle should have been decided the moment he entered the monster’s domain.
However, he wasn’t alone, and thus, had nothing to fear.
Strands of silver hair flew into the air, freed from the cruel embrace of Quintella’s skull. Like an illusion, the thin strands twisted and warped, taking form into something that would otherwise be impossible through classic spellcasting.
Purple chains bound the monster, forcing it to stay still. No matter how much it struggled, not a single link broke. Unable to speak, the shadow spoke for its body, never having encountered such power before.
“IMPOSSIBLE…!”
“Normally it would be. But you’re bound by that dreamer, aren’t you?”
The shadow recoiled in shock.
“If we were in your world, my chains wouldn’t even have manifested. But right now, you’re bound by completely different rules. We’re in the Eighth now, and from where I stand, your authority no longer carries the same weight as it used to.”
Too absorbed in Quintella’s explanation, the shadow failed to notice Sulva’s attack, which struck Uru and knocked him unconscious. Red and black strings of magical energy surrounded the young boy like bindings, whispers seeping through the curse’s very structure.
Like a switch being flipped, the majority of the shadows surrounding the boy disappeared, almost as if the concept of darkness had been extinguished from the world. The shadow tried to rush back to the boy, but found itself bound to its location, only able to stand there in disbelief.
“I see. Thy chains, forged from ambition and desire, tell me all I need to know.”
Pride built up in Quintella’s chest as the shadow continued.
“Thou art none other than the Fifth Prime, Quintella.”
“And you’re nothing but a disappointment.”
“It caught me by surprise that you decided to appear for the first time. This loop is turning out to be much more exciting than I anticipated.”
“Loop?”
Plucking out two strands of hair, Quintella tossed her hand into the air, letting the silver strings loose into the open world. This time, however, rather than chains manifesting, beautiful pink ribbons burst forth, replacing the hair altogether.
They wrapped themselves around Uru, mummifying his body from head to toe. Like flickering static, the shadow flashed in and out of existence as the magical energy provided by its master waned. But the sensation didn’t tell the shadow that his master was weakening. It was quite the opposite.
The dark mist that formed above the city halted its spiral, forcefully rushing into the mummified boy like a tsunami. Grappling themselves to the ground, the ribbons prepared the body for what would be a violent resistance from Uru.
What followed soon after was a guttural scream louder than any beast’s roar. No amount of bindings could nullify the boy’s pained cries. Sulva closed his eyes, focusing all his willpower into one spot in his brain. He then raised his arm once more, distorting his voice into something inhumane.
(Through a dream, in a vision of the night.)
Per somnium, in visione nocturna.
(When sleep falls)
Quando inruit sopor,
(men slumber.)
homines dormiunt.
(Through the night dream)
Per somnium nocturnum,
(sleep descends.)
sopor inruit.
Uru’s convulsing stopped, the world meeting a momentary state of peace. Then an explosion of darkness shot out of his body. All the magical energy he possessed, and more, sprayed back into the air. This time, however, it was tainted with the nightmares of him and everyone who lived in the city.
No, with the sheer size of the clouds, it wouldn’t be strange to assume it was an entire city’s worth. The ground shook violently, and Uru’s body started to levitate off the ground due to the sheer force. Cracks formed along his body before being patched by the ribbons, now acting as bandages.
Or perhaps that had been their true purpose all along.
Amidst what seemed like never-ending chaos, the boy’s voice seeped through his screams, sneaking in one final request to his savior.
But faced with eternal torment, his mind spoke for itself.
“Help me… Protector.”
Although the plea was not meant for the summoned demon, it took the assumption that it was. He had once been called by many titles throughout many lifetimes and many worlds. Protector was never one of them. Deep down, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness despite being in such a dire situation.
The shadow dissipated, vanishing into the night, with only the natural shade of moonlight remaining. Quintella stood triumphant alongside Sulva as Uru’s body calmly fell back to the ground, the dark clouds above swirling like a tornado.
Just as Quintella’s small hands reached into her scalp, she felt a disturbance that sent a chill down her spine. Her body froze, her eyes slowly turning in a flash of fear at what was happening behind her. The chains rattled, cracks forming along the links.
“Fifth. Thou hast claimed that we are now bound by different rules.”
“I must thank thee, for I would never have been able to use mine abilities properly.”
“F…”
Sulva was met with an unusual sight from his master. Sweat dripped from her forehead, her toes curling and refusing to stay still. Her heartbeat raced so fast he could practically hear its drums. Not to mention, her breathing had become more labored as she leaned slightly forward like an exhausted athlete.
Confused, Sulva repeated her interrupted words.
“F…?”
“—Fahaha, I messed up.”
The monster’s body glowed an unnatural color, its core lighting up in a beautiful hue of deep blue. Its Soul cried out for release as magical energy began to draw into its body, ready to detonate at any moment’s notice.
It shouldn’t have been possible. It should have been an easy win for the mother of the cult. She had gotten carried away mocking and teasing someone who was supposed to be weaker than her, accidentally giving them a boost in power.
A Soul Symphony was not something to toss around haphazardly, but a cast that required focus and deep reflection within one’s soul. It took years for Quintella to master hers upon arriving at the Eighth, but for her predecessor, all he needed was five minutes.
No joke formed in her mind, not a single snarky remark leaving her lips. She stood paralyzed as the deep and heavy voice of the Second Prime vibrated through her entire being, each syllable shaking the very core of who she was.
Dreams created by trillions across time and reality converged into one spot. It was true that he was now significantly weakened, but he still had enough magical energy and authority to demand one final act of defense for all those who slumbered.
Once, in a lifetime now far distant, he took on all the negative influences that would otherwise seep into people’s dreams, taking on a moniker that many had come to despise. He did not mind being called such a horrible name, as his ultimate goal of protection was all that mattered to him.
As if making an announcement to the world, the demon, who now spoke through the large animal-like body, declared, “Soul Symphony.”
Time froze, as if waiting for a response. Raising its monster-like arms, magical energy from within its soul began to converge and shoot toward the spiral of darkness looming above the city.
(Sleep, and Entrust Your Nightmares to Me)
“Dreamfall Dominion!”
Specks of dark magic fell from the sky like rain in a storm. They swayed violently as if raging winds directed their course, when in reality the air was as still as a glass of water. Black tar tainted every surface, drowning the known world in darkness.
A clear border was drawn, spanning only the entire city. It tried to advance further, but something pulled the darkness back, preventing it from gaining complete freedom. Quintella knew there was no universe where the Second Prime would devour the planet, but the split-second thought of it happening jolted her organs all the same.
With a single drop, Sulva’s mind was rammed with countless images his mind could not even begin to understand. Visions of unexplainable deaths and indescribable misfortunes. To the mortal cultist, it felt like an anomalous slime was attempting to crawl out of his eye socket.
Rising like wet clay, the darkness encased half of Sulva’s body. He reached out for help, extending his arms toward Quintella, who had been flying ever since the monster cast its Soul Symphony. However, rather than helping, she side-eyed her subordinate, a silent demand for him to get himself out of the predicament.
Before his mind could curse his master, he was fully encased in the black tar, his body nowhere to be seen. On the contrary, Uru’s still-wrapped body rose alongside the slimy surface, as if there were an invisible, solid platform underneath him.
“Not what I was expecting, but this might just work out in the end.” Quintella’s voice was low, carrying none of the playful nature she often displayed.
“It’ll be a shame if Ocky doesn’t make it out of this one alive, it’ll absolutely spoil my fun.”
“Think me, think.”
Quintella’s breath hitched. She snapped her fingers as an idea lit itself in her mind. Without another moment to waste, she reached into her scalp, pulling a singular strand of hair. Throwing it into the air, she yelled at the top of her lungs.
“May despair be the fire that drives me steps, and hope the beacon that guides my path. From the silent gardens of eternity, I call upon the white lily. Bloom now as my weapon against the coming dark. Let us walk the road of green pastured unafraid, and fill our hearts with a love that surpasses worlds. ”
Exhaling all the breath she had welled up in her chest, she exclaimed, “Come forth…”
(Wipe Your Tears, Celica)
“Arufaregina!”
Shining with a blinding golden light, her strand of hair immediately transformed into a long white spear with a pale surface and gold lining across its metal. Immediately, the weapon started to malfunction, as it had been called upon by someone who did not possess the correct authority to command it.
Knowing this, the moment it landed in her hands, Quintella didn’t hesitate to throw the weapon with her full might. The sheer aura emitted from the weapon burned away much of the ooze crawling up toward the sky, letting out a violent hiss through the air, its tip sharp enough to seemingly cut reality.
The black dome that surrounded the city shattered momentarily, granting Quintella more than adequate time to fly herself out of the sticky predicament she had placed herself in. Having done its job, the thrown spear dissipated into golden particles, reuniting itself with the Manastream.
Hovering above the dome, Quintella watched as the darkness repaired itself, encasing the entire city and the large monster in black ooze. A satisfied grin curled across her face, as if she had pulled off the escape of a lifetime.
Placing both hands on her hips, she let out a proud huff. “That was CLOOOSEEEE! I’m glad I’m the greatest of all time, otherwise I would have gotten boiled. Not literally boiled though.”
Bursting into laughter, she clutched her abdomen as she rolled around in the air. Her squeals of joy were a grand contrast to the death-filled world just a few hundred feet below her.
“Amazing, just amazing! I don’t even know where to start to fix this mess!”
With one final sigh, she released all the tension from her body.
The sun slowly started to rise, shining against her ridiculously long hair like a metallic surface. Still lying horizontally in the air, she bent her neck backward, looking out into the vast woods as far as her eye could see.
Nearly a day and a half’s travel from where she was, a certain blue-haired mage had just started to wake up inside the home of an innocent schoolteacher. Quintella hummed curiously, as the being she knew as the Centipede Maiden had made no moves against her beloved plaything.
“Maybe I’ll just leave it up to her… I can’t wait to see what you do next, my cute little Ocky.”