Enidra hurriedly dragged Aeden across the wooden deck, circling around the outskirts of the village. They jumped over seething, dark-green waters and hid behind timber casks whenever someone approached.
It felt like the most intense session of hide-and-seek he had ever experienced, except it wasn't a game. He could see, from his guide's expression, that she dreaded whatever would happen should they be found.
After some very close encounters, they finally reached a dilapidated cabin, isolated from the rest of the Swamp-vill. She carefully inspected its interior before urging the Sorcerer in and making sure no one followed them.
"Could you explain to me why we're doing this?" Aeden spoke in a lowered voice to not startle her, seeing that she was still tense.
"It's preferable if no one knows you're here. Trust me." Even inside, she only dared to whisper, setting planks to hide the windows. "The night is close, so I have to go. I'll come back near dawn, so please, don't go outside, no matter what you might hear. I want you to promise me this."
Aeden hesitated. He lacked any kind of insight into this settlement due to the Mana density. It somehow stifled his senses, weighing on his body as if he was trying to move underwater. Being unable to use his spells in this context was really dangerous, and while he had his martial arts, they weren't exactly comparable to Decima's level, especially unarmed. Agreeing to such conditions without knowing anything was suicidal.
Enidra picked up on his turmoil, biting her lower lip. The young man found her expression quite endearing despite their situation. He could almost lose himself in her glittering green eyes.
"Listen, how about this? I'll stay right in front of the door this night. I'll be able able to warn you if something comes up."
"Wait. Wouldn't that be dangerous? You'd be staying up all night, for my sake. I'm a stranger, aren't I?"
"Don't worry about that... Just promise me that you won't exit this cabin."
"Alright." Even if he wasn't wholly convinced, Aeden chose to trust her.
"Good, I'll be outside then." She immediately left, ensuring that the gate was tightly locked behind her.
Her quivering shadow stilled under the doorway's frame, which made him relax. Now that it was settled, the boy quickly inspected the deckhouse. It was mostly empty, with a few wooden chairs, a destroyed bed, and small windows blocked by Enidra's planks.
He sat on the dusty floor near a fragile part of the wall. If push came to shove, he'd probably be able to blast through it with sheer force.
As moonlight shrouded Luascach, the greenish gleam of the Swamp-vill was replaced by the ominous, nocturnal gray. It affected his temporary lodging through the tinier slits of the dividers, making him further raise his guard for an unknown reason.
It was an odd feeling… like the atmospheric change heralded a particular awakening. The Swamp Dame's, maybe? Enidra did say that she was sleeping earlier during the day. Still, his guts told him to steer away from problems inside this Mana Biome. That hunch had significantly been enhanced once he had encountered the Weeper.
Megissa told him about how treacherous the Mysteries were. The last things he remembered were the Fae's appearance, that burning fever, and the intense anger that prompted him to protect his friends. What had happened?
'Want to know?' A feminine voice whispered once again in his ears.
'Shut up.' He shunned her, unwilling to give in to her lures anymore. It was surprisingly easy to suppress her at times, but at others, his lucidity would be crushed, and his wits overwhelmed. It was unpleasant to know that you could lose control at any moment, and you would be unable to do anything about it.
Soft groans slithered up the door frame, alerting Aeden. It was Enidra.
"You're alright?" He asked.
"Y-Yes…-" She barely stifled a yelp of pain the following instant, which made him stand.
"Are you sure?" Just then, he could hear faint, agonizing cries coming from the village. They were numerous and howled in eerie synchronization.
"Don't worry… It'll pass. Everyone goes through this in Luascach." Her voice became relatively lower, almost inhuman, though he could still recognize her tone.
"You're in pain?"
"Isn't it obvious, meathead?" She chuckled, and it eased his worry a bit.
"If I talk to you, will it be easier?" He offered.
"Yes… Thank you."
Aeden leaned against the door.
"So… I know that your name is Enidra. You're nimble, bossy, cute, muscled, and have beautiful eyes."
"Honestly, I don't know if you're complimenting or making fun of me." He could feel her smiling, somehow. "I know that your name is Aeden. You're strong, clumsy, airheaded, rude, petty…"
"Hey! Those are only insults!" He intervened in hushed outrage.
"You have a mesmerizing crimson gaze, awesome fiery red hair, and an endearing personality."
The young man felt his cheeks redden. "But you don't know me."
"Neither do you." Her answer seemed full of sorrow. "Tell me, what's the outside world like?"
"I've only recently left my homeland, so I can't speak for much of the world, but… It's beautiful. Unending viridescent seas, looming ice and rock mountains, bizarre and mystical forests… Did you never leave the Swamp?"
"Never. We've had outsiders in the past, though I barely interacted with them." Pure dreaminess squeezed out of her timbre. "I dream of visiting it each night… when the Swamp Dame awakens, and we have to suffer for past mistakes… That's the only thing holding me together. Do you have a dream, Aeden?"
Aeden silently pondered on it for a few seconds. What was his dream? It would've been much easier to answer that question had he been a few years younger. At that age, he only wanted friends, true companions with whom he would share an exciting adventure.
But now? It was difficult to say.
Earn recognition as a Sorcerer? A goal.
Further Numidea's glory? A mission.
Keep his mother from dying? A wish, yes, but an impossible one.
"I don't know, really. Currently, I only have tasks and an ambition, perhaps? Beyond that, I have no idea."
"I see. I'm sure you'll find it one day. Mom used to tell me that 'the future belonged to those who believed in the beauty of their dreams.' Everyone has aspirations. Yours just have yet to be discovered."
"I hope you're right, Enidra."
'I sincerely hope so…' These thoughts echoed as he slowly drifted into sleep.
__
The Wendigo crawled into the twisted woods, its gaunt limbs almost dancing in frenzied joy.
"Ceann dearg… Ceann dearg!"
No feeling could be compared to the one it was currently experiencing, for it found the Crimson One, the savior that would relieve its kind from their plague. It had already tasted His healing touch, now cleared of its uncontrollable hunger.
That was its proof. It will show it to its peers and guide them towards the promised peace.
Soon enough, its acute senses picked up the sweet stench of decay, allowing it to find its tribe. They were in the midst of a cursed meal, feasting on a Nightmare's fading carcass, foul nourishment even for them.
"Rejoice!" It spoke in their tongue, displaying its scorched, skeletal arms. "I have found him! The Crimson One blessed me with the lull of satiation! I can guide you to him. We need to herald his sacrifice to everyone else!"
Its announcement seemed to fall on deaf ears. It could see the tint of distrust in their eyes, and it knew exactly why. Its sibling's scent, whose blood dried on its fangs, was all too easy to pick up for them.
It had committed the taboo, and for that, punishment needed to be distributed. Their reaction was natural - tasting such accursed flesh was akin to submitting to madness. No one would believe it. No one would listen to it.
They swarmed it in righteous violence, pinning it down on the dirtied soil while preparing the purging ritual.
For its crime, the Wendigo's limbs would be ripped apart, and it would rot under the sun, as dictated by the elden rules.
It wasn't acceptable. Spreading the Crimson One's glory was now its mission. If only to thank Him for those delicious moments of fullness. It was its life's goal now, and no one could interfere, no one could stop it.
Warmth filled its mind and body each time it thought of Him, and it grew in intensity, in strength… That fleeting, feeble spark that only could be described as hope.
Dripping blood ignited from its singed hands, and corrupted flames roared upwards. It looked just like its idol's, raging and twirling in pure, darkened crimson.
The tribe cried in anguish, dreading the searing touch of fire. However, instead of burning them, it purified their crippling starvation. For that brief, soothing moment, they could all think in delightful clarity.
The Wendigo rose, revelation washing over it.
Its blaze only gave momentary relief from the plague of famine, but the Crimson One's cleansing inferno was everlasting.
It all made sense.
That new power… It was a gift, a fraction of that Being's might, offered to him so that it could accomplish its task.
Its peers bowed and wailed, longing for the calming heat again.
'I will escort them.' It decided. But they needed a tribute, an oblation for their savior.
'I will give Him the world.' It vowed, for there was no price for its kind's peace.
…
It was that dreadful day that saw the birth of the Crimson Prophet, the smoldering scourge which nearly ruined all of Occidia.