Nico couldn't believe what his eyes were telling him. But, as the seconds ticked by, the reality of what he had seen slowly dawned on him.
Reflected within his gaze, under the cover of the cold gloom, Isaac and Oliver's facial features experienced a profound change. Well… if he was being precise, it was only their ears that had changed.
In any case, Nico just stood there stunned. His mind failed to process the sudden switch that had taken hold of the two brothers.
If before their ears were round and soft, now their ears were sharper, thinner and more defined. The tips of the sensory organ were also more pointed, similar to the appearance of a certain race amongst the Major Races.
'Fates.' Nico breathed.
He rubbed his eyes, as a last check to see if he was hallucinating. Finding that the sight before him remained unchanged, Nico staggered, his centre of balance suddenly very precarious.
'I'm going to need to sit down for this…'
"Neat, right?!" Isaac grinned. The air around his now pointed ears shimmered briefly before his appearance returned to what it had previously been. "It's a minor application of Soul Energy where we create a small illusion to mask the presence of our conspicuous ears."
Nico blinked.
A wide grin slowly stretched across his face.
'Cool!'
"How hard is it to do? Is it only exclusive to the Elven race, or can people from different races do the same thing? Ah! How come you guys are here and not in the Soul Territories? And, why do you hide the fact that you're Elves?" The questions tumbled out of Nico's mouth before he could stop himself.
Oliver and Isaac both chuckled.
The older of the two green-haired youths sat down, before the younger sibling promptly followed suit.
"I'll answer each question one at a time, don't worry," Oliver continued to chuckle, sighting the visible embarrassment on the brown-haired boy's face.
His expression soon turned distant, his eyes clouding over. "To answer your first question, it is not very hard once you're used to it. A person who has just started to manipulate Soul energy will certainly find it more taxing to maintain, never mind the burden it places on a person's soul. But it does get easier over time."
The handsome he-elf sighed.
"For your second question, as far as I'm aware, only those born with a Soul Core can innately control the energy stored within their soul. Put more simply, only us Elves and our neighbouring Fairies can do this. The third question is a little difficult to address, but what Lady Sabrina revealed when we asked her was that it boils down to a swap deal agreed by your Monarch, where the members of your race receive the opportunity to study the Healing Arts in our kingdom, while we gain access to your vast array of Dungeons.
"As for your fourth question, experience with revealing our origin, and rumours of Slave Traders have led to us to believe that keeping our Elven ears hidden is a wise precaution. Plus, it's easier to get along with others if they think you're also human." Oliver frowned slightly as if recalling something particularly troublesome.
Nico rubbed his chin, fascinated with all that he'd just heard.
Remembering what the two elves had revealed earlier whilst he was eavesdropping, he sighed.
'So it was like that, huh? Oh, well. I'll be dammed if I don't help them make the most of this opportunity.'
Nico stared at the two dazzling youths with a hint of respect.
It seemed that everyone in his team had come from a less-than-normal background.
'How fitting…'
***
Staring at the dogged silhouettes of his peers clashing against the small denizens of the Dungeon, the cloaked figure ground his teeth, clenched his fists and cursed.
He cursed those stupid spiders. He cursed his master for advising him to enter this specific Dungeon. He cursed Fate for arranging such an ill-timed reunion.
And, most of all, he cursed that damned brown-haired boy.
The idiot who had the gall to touch him.
For that momentary contact had caused his brain to experience a rush of memories of a time when life was peaceful. Where the scenes were filled with bliss, contentment, and joy. And where there had been a distinct absence of pain.
"Blast it," the hooded figure muttered, holding his head as he groaned.
He had to get rid of these unseemly sights.
He had already decided to forsake everything… there was no point in looking back.
All that mattered was the future.
Yes. He had to focus on the future he wanted to create.
A future where everything would cease to exist.
As hate and bitterness clashed deep within the cloaked figure's heart, and whispers of destruction and death plagued his mind, he gripped a certain item tightly within the pockets of his robe.
He knew that once he activated it, there would be no turning back. And although he would be going against 'their' wishes, he did not hesitate to change the plan.
Taking a breath to calm his chaotic emotions, the hooded figure closed his eyes. He mentally counted to ten, the emotion vanishing from his face after every passing numeral.
In the end, all that was left was an ice-cold ruthlessness that would have chilled anyone spectating to the bone.
As the battle several paces away reached its climax, the cloaked figure's eyes shone with a cold light. A pale mist smoked out of the tenebrous void shrouding his features before an invisible ripple spread through the Dungeon.
Up above, the countless white strings of Fate trembled yet again...
***
Nico panted, his breath creating large misty clouds in the air. He leaned on his spear, surveying the carnage surrounding his figure.
Mangled spiders lay strewn across the Dungeon ground, fetid black blood staining the floor.
Nico did his best to ignore the rancid smell and focused inward. He frowned, gazing at a certain scrape on his armour.
While he was fighting, the sense of unease within his chest had suddenly burgeoned, breaking his concentration, and allowing one arachnid to sink their tiny fangs into his frame. Luckily, his armour had absorbed most of the impact and held.
The small scar that remained though, served as a gruesome reminder that if he had made one mistake in the heat of battle, he'd be dead.
Shaking his head, the brown-haired boy suppressed his rising panic at the thought of the apprehensive feeling becoming stronger.
'Blast it!'
He still hadn't achieved a level where he was confident he could prevail against the cloaked figure. And, while he was making good progress - particularly with his technique and understanding of the deeper intricacies of battle -, at the rate things were going, he stood no chance in being able to prevent what was to come.
Nico sent a hand upward through his hair in a mixture of anxiety and frustration.
He bit his lip, sending a glance towards the rest of his peers. Oliver and Isaac were retrieving the arrows they had lodged into the Demons, while Leon carefully cleaned his shield from any grime or blood the arachnids had caused.
The Elven duo was hoping their arrows were either still usable or at the very least hoping that their darts hadn't sustained enough damage that they couldn't be recycled and fashioned into new arrows.
After all, their supplies were not endless. They were bound to run out of munition, eventually. It was better to preserve any arrows that could be saved, to decrease the chance of that happening.
Staring at the arachnid's corpse dumped near his feet, its many beady eyes devoid of madness, Nico released a bleak sigh.
He inwardly prayed to all the Transcendents - including the Ancestor, who was the ruler of Fate - to help make the rest of his team's time in the Dungeon smooth sailing.
Unfortunately, with the way things were going, that seemed less and less likely to happen…