A warm, golden light seeped through my closed eyelids, coaxing me from darkness into the realm of the living. My eyes flickered open to find myself in the comforting embrace of my own bed, the sun high in the sky, casting its midday radiance. A sensation of warmth and vitality coursed through my veins as I threw back the covers to discover, to my astonishment, that my wounds had completely healed.
Memories of that harrowing night surged into my mind—the ease with which Darby had vanquished Numas, reveling in his own power. "What in the name of the gods is Darby?" I wondered. Rising from the bed, I dressed in the simple cotton shirt and trousers thoughtfully folded atop a nearby chair. "One can't be armored all the time," I mused.
I ascended to the upper deck, the cosmic expanse overhead shimmering with breathtaking beauty. Yet, what struck me as peculiar was the ship's pristine condition—no sign of black blood, broken glass, or splintered wood. There was no trace that a battle had ever taken place.
"Yo!" Rudo bellowed, bounding toward me. "Feeling better, kid?" he asked.
"Yeah, I think I'm good. What about you?" I replied.
"Never been better, it seems. After getting thrashed by that accursed Dreadborn, I don't remember much. Woke up in my room, wounds healed, and everything back to normal," Rudo said, his expression betraying his confusion.
Opol and Rad, leaning against the deck's railing, smoked a fragrant herbal joint, waving us over to join them in the aftermath of the surreal ordeal we had all endured.
"I can't recall a damned thing," Rad chuckled, drawing deeply from the joint and flicking ashes over the railing between puffs. "Odd, isn't it? Neither can I. I remember being injured, but everything after that is a void," Opol grumbled.
"I was the last one standing," I confessed, noting the surprise etched on their faces. "Many things were hazy," I admitted, though it could have been the blood loss that clouded my memory. "But I think I saw Darby—or rather, something that wasn't quite Darby. I can't be certain of what I witnessed." I struggled to piece together the fragmented recollections.
"So, Darby came to our rescue?" Rad inquired, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "It seemed so. I recall sensing a vivid green aura, pulsating and electrifying the air around us. Then I, too, must have blacked out," I recounted as the other three continued smoking.
Just then, Zig joined us, weariness etched on his face. "What are you fellows up to?" his hoarse voice inquired.
"Oh, you know, just recovering," Rudo responded, his tone betraying a hint of annoyance at Zig. "By the way, Zig, where were you when those squid bastards attacked us?" Rudo pressed.
Zig seemed flustered by the question. "I was ambushed before I could reach any of you. They locked me in the chambers below. I woke up in my bed, just like the rest of you," he said defensively, his eyes darting away.
"If I could have, I would've crushed just as many of those squiblins as you guys did," Zig snarled. "Sure, sure," Rad mocked. "Ease up, Zig, we trust you," Opol chimed in, attempting to diffuse the tension. Zig, however, turned and marched off to the ship's control center. "I can't stand that guy. Never liked him since day one on this ship," Rudo growled. "Take it easy. The captain trusts him, so he's our comrade," Opol reminded us with a soothing tone.
Just then, the doors to the captain's quarters opened, and Darby emerged. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," he called out, prompting us all to halt and salute our captain. After the pandemonium we had experienced, my trust and respect for Darby had grown, but as I considered it, I wondered whether it was respect or fear I felt. The image of a skeletal visage and the glowing green aura haunted me. "Leon," Darby gestured toward me, "join me in my quarters. We must discuss certain matters." He beckoned me into his room.
As I entered the captain's chamber, I noticed the plush red carpet and elegant furniture that adorned the room, as well as a long wooden table strewn with books and maps. "Take a seat, Leon," Darby invited, settling into a chair on the other side of the table, a lit joint between his fingers. He inhaled deeply before asking, "Do you remember anything? Anything that transpired last night?" He paused, curiosity lacing his tone. "I recall fragments, bits and pieces," I replied. "I see..." Darby murmured. "I believe I saw you, but you appeared... different," I added hesitantly, unsure whether I sounded delusional.
Even now, hours later, the memory of Darby's transformation clung to me, like a shadow that refused to leave. I could still feel the faint hum of that sickly green light, a vibration that had seemed to pulse in my own bones. The sight of him as something other, something skeletal and monstrous, left a strange blend of awe and unease twisting in my gut. Part of me yearned for that kind of strength, that kind of fearlessness—to wield power so vast that even a god-killer like Numas would tremble. But another part of me recoiled, feeling that desire sink like a stone in my chest.
What kind of man, or creature, could wield such a thing without losing himself completely? I knew the answer lay somewhere in Darby's haunted gaze, the lines etched into his face by an age far older than his years. And in that eerie, emerald light, I felt the looming shadow of Orphease himself. If I wasn't careful, if I wasn't strong enough…would I, too, become just another puppet? The thrill of that power clashed with a bone-deep fear, leaving me unsteady and questioning where the line between courage and madness truly lay.
"And what did I resemble in your recollections?" Darby inquired, his voice tinged with a hint of trepidation. I hesitated, uncertain of how to articulate the ghastly vision. "You... you appeared as a skeletal fiend, bathed in an eerie emerald luminescence," I stammered, my voice faltering.
Darby burst into laughter, nearly choking on the smoke of his joint. "A monster, you say?" He chuckled, his mirth tinged with a shadow of sadness. "Your memories have not deceived you, lad."
"What are you, then?" I asked, curiosity overwhelming me.
"I am who I am, boy. Let not your inquisitiveness cloud your judgment," Darby replied cryptically. He paused, his gaze drifting into the void.
Darby's gaze drifted away, his eyes fixed on some distant point as if he could see through the ship's walls, into the endless night. "Since you have witnessed my transformation, I suppose it's only fair to enlighten you." His voice softened, and for a moment, a flicker of something like pain crossed his face—a subtle tightening at the corner of his mouth, a flicker in his eyes, almost like a ghost.
"Orphease took half my soul," he continued, his tone now heavy with a kind of distant resignation. "Devoured it, leaving me cursed to wander among mortals…forever." His fingers traced an idle pattern on the table, a quiet, unconscious movement that seemed to speak of an old wound, one he knew could never heal. "When the sun sets, I withdraw," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can feel the shift in my bones—a slow decay, creeping through every inch of me, as if the darkness itself seeps into my veins."
He paused, his fingers now still, and his gaze turned inward. "You see, lad, endless nights await me. Nights where I become something else—something stripped of everything human." There was a tremor, a bare whisper of vulnerability in his voice, gone almost as soon as it surfaced, replaced by the familiar iron in his tone. "I am resigned to it. I have to be." He looked up at me, his expression now resolute. "But you…you could be the one to put an end to it."
"I promise," I whispered, empathy welling within me. Darby must have endured an agonizing existence, witnessing countless friends and loved ones perish in an endless cycle of despair.
Before departing the captain's sanctuary, I felt compelled to inquire, "Sir? What of Drill? Has he recovered from the brutal onslaught he suffered at Numas's hands?" Memories of his gruesome injuries lingered in my thoughts.
"Fear not, lad. Everyone is healed and restored," Darby assured me, a warm chuckle resonating in his voice. "But, how did you manage to cleanse and mend the entire ship?" I couldn't help but interrupt, my curiosity piqued.
"Ah, my boy, this vessel is suffused with my very essence. My aura courses through its core, intertwining our fates. We empower one another, bound in an unending odyssey into the vast unknown," Darby revealed, his voice tinged with a profound sense of unity. "Now, away with you. Rest and rejuvenate, for we shall soon arrive at our destination. I want everyone prepared and alert."
With a wave of his hand, Darby ushered me out of his chamber, the door closing with an air of finality as I stepped into the dimly lit corridor.
"Have you incurred the captain's wrath?" Petre inquired, emerging from behind me. His short, stocky frame easily overlooked as I barely noticed him. "No, I merely sought assurance that we were all healed and ready for the upcoming bounty," I explained.
"Be vigilant, young Leon. Zozo is not a foe to underestimate. He's a treacherous vermin, deserving nothing less than the swift hand of death," Petre declared, his fist tightening with determination. I knew little of this Zozo, yet I was certain my ruby ring would soon call upon me to harvest more souls.
"Orecon B is fraught with peril, as well. A world of dense jungle, where the air hangs thick and wet, choked with vines that strangle the trees and creatures that prowl just beyond sight," Petre intoned, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial murmur. "They say if you listen carefully, you can hear the forest breathing, whispering secrets older than any of us."
A strange hush fell over the crew as Petre continued. "The jungle teems with beasts most men can only imagine. Some, it's said, will stalk a man for hours, only to disappear into the shadows at the slightest hint of movement. And Zozo—he's hidden himself in the heart of this green labyrinth, in a sanctuary protected by the very land itself." His eyes gleamed with the thrill of sharing this knowledge, even as the rest of us felt a shiver run down our spines.
"If we're lucky, lad, we may even come across an Evergreen Dragon," he added, a grin breaking through his otherwise grave expression. "Scales like polished emeralds, they say. And at night, they fly through the jungle canopies, leaving trails of verdant flame across the sky."
A murmur of excitement rippled through the crew, though a dark tension lingered. I'd heard of these dragons before, of their scales, their teeth—each as valuable as gold, used by blacksmiths and sorcerers alike to craft legendary weapons and armor. The idea of confronting such a beast stirred something within me, an urge to test myself against a creature of such formidable power.
As I listened, a strange heaviness settled over me. My thoughts drifted to Zozo, the elusive figure we were about to hunt. The rumors were endless—a master of deception, some said, while others whispered he could charm beasts into submission. Yet all agreed on one point: his stronghold was buried deep in the heart of the jungle, surrounded by traps, both man-made and natural, designed to keep unwanted guests at bay.
The anticipation gnawed at me, mingling with an undercurrent of dread. The air aboard the ship felt stifling, as if even now the jungle's humid weight pressed down upon us, carrying the scent of wet earth, decaying leaves, and the faint musk of predators that had claimed Orecon B as their own. With each passing hour, I could feel the jungle calling us closer, drawing us toward its dark heart, where Zozo lay in wait.
As I imagined the gleaming scales of an Evergreen Dragon, a creature of legend and power, the ring on my finger began to pulse—a low, insistent throb that seemed to sink into my skin, embedding itself in the very bones of my hand. I glanced down, half-expecting to see my fingers fading to black, consumed by Orphease's curse. Instead, I saw only the faint red glow of the ring, yet it seemed to pulse in rhythm with my own heartbeat, as if the line between us was blurring, threading his dark will deeper into me.
A chill crept over me as the memory of Numas' assault resurfaced, the raw need for strength that had surged within me as I fought. Would I ever be strong enough to face creatures like that, or a dragon of such unimaginable power? But with each life I took, every soul surrendered to Orphease, I felt a sliver of myself slipping further away, replaced by something colder, darker—like the void was slowly taking root inside me.
I flexed my fingers, willing the pulsing heat of the ring to fade, but it only seemed to grow stronger, pressing down as if reminding me of my servitude. A faint tremor shook my hand, the weight of my promise to Darby fresh in my mind, the promise to seek vengeance against Orphease. I knew then that Darby and this crew were the only things holding me tethered to the man I once was.
But as I walked this narrow edge, I couldn't shake the sense of foreboding—that a day would come when the pull of the ring would overpower even that bond, and I'd be lost to Orphease's will entirely, consumed by the merciless void that waited to devour me whole.
This ship and its motley crew, under Darby's guidance, served as the last bastions of my sanity. As I walked the fine line between my hunger for strength and the ever-encroaching darkness, I wondered if there would come a day when I would lose myself entirely to the merciless void.
In the present, I resolved to learn, grow, and savor every moment of this extraordinary adventure. Time flew, and soon supper was upon us. We gathered around the table, all except our captain, who remained in his chambers, likely drained from mending our wounds with his aura. We feasted, relishing in the shared camaraderie.
"We'll reach Orecon B in approximately twelve hours," Zig announced, detailing the bounty before us. "Zozo is wanted dead or alive—preferably alive, but if we have no choice, his head will suffice." He spoke between mouthfuls, a distasteful sight. Though not the most likable crew member, Zig's intellect and valuable intel were undeniable.
"Rumor has it Zozo is heavily guarded within a sanctuary deep in the jungle. We'll land on the outskirts and infiltrate from the sides to avoid drawing attention," Zig continued, holding our rapt attention. "Once we're in, eliminate everyone—leave no one alive but Zozo." He slammed his hand on the table for emphasis.
With our meal concluded, our spirits were ignited in anticipation of the upcoming challenge. I retired to my chamber, sitting on the edge of my bed and reflecting on the events that had led me to this point. Above all, I grappled with the notion of taking lives. I tried to push the thought away, but it relentlessly slithered back into my mind, an unwelcome specter that I welcomed with open arms.
As I lay down, I hoped for a moment's peace, but the ring's faint pulsing continued to throb against my skin, a reminder of the power waiting within, should I be willing to sacrifice a little more of myself. My thoughts drifted to Orphease, his silent shadow pressing against the edges of my mind, his presence growing stronger with every soul I surrendered to him.
Sleep tugged at my eyelids, but even as I drifted, I felt Orphease's influence lurking, like a distant echo—one that would be waiting, patient and unyielding, when I awoke.
In the darkness, I swore I felt his gaze upon me, watching, waiting.