[WARNING: Mentions of Suicide]
Before Sylas stood three women. A child, an adult, and an elderly. The child had a missing nose. The adult had missing eyes. The elderly, no ears. They wore the same clothes, black robes embroidered with a golden and purple floral pattern. They had covered their entire body up with the robes. Their head was the only thing exposed. Their ears were long and sharp, save for the elderly. Their eyes were a deep amber, save for the adult. Their noses were large and beefy, save for the child. All of them had long hair. The youngest with black, the oldest with white, the last with a mix of both. Most notable was the similar black tattoos that lined along the sides of their head, then wrapped around their nose and eyes. They were runes.
Surrounding the four was a swamp. All of their feet were drenched in murky green-brown water. Fog rolled around. The trees drooped towards the three women, away from Sylas. She had the appearance of her last moments of her precious past life. Bloody and gray.
"The Unnamed Terror of Dracaelfia looks around her surroundings, wondering why she shares the appearance of her past life. The adult says as she corrects the narrator to be called Sister from now on."
"Where am I?"
"The child, I call her Maiden, says at the exact same time as The Unnamed Terror of Dracaelfia. Their voices harmonize for a moment before Maiden giggles and sways in the heavy fog. Maiden and Sister look towards the elderly, I prefer Mother."
"On a day like this, Ryse chases away the moon to bring in the day."
"Mother said as The Unnamed Terror of Dracaelfia realized she was dreaming. Our voices, for those wondering, are interchangeable with any other woman."
"Who are you people?"
"The Maiden said at the exact same time as-"
"Enough! I know I'm The Unnamed Terror of Dracaelfia." The Maiden giggled. "Can you just call me Sylas?"
"Shall we gouge out your tongue fool?" The women said in unison as a gust of wind crashed against Sylas.
"Her body returned to that of the long eared horned terror. She resisted the gust of wind with all her might as Mother and Maiden walked away from me, Sister, to surround The Unnamed Terror of Dracaelfia. I approached her. She had fallen to her knees, and looked up at me as the wind subsided. Mother began."
"We are the Rune-Marked people."
"The Terror had turned to Mother. Confusion washing over her as a chip in her left horn appeared. She grimaced at the sharp pain."
"..." Maiden bursted into laughter as "The Terror" bit her tongue and swallowed her words.
"Born from unknown origins. Blood of the cursed. Wings of the Chaotic. Senses of the immortals. Spirit of a man. All wrapped in the form of a woman."
"Mother says. The Rune-Marked women practicing their fate close in on the little terror who cowers in fear. She grew 2 inches taller as she slept. We hope this can translate to your strength. Maiden crouched down and smiled at The Terror."
"You will die at the hands of a hero. Amass all the strength and friends you can. Still you will die. Achieve all your dreams and you will die."
The Three Women disappeared, the gust of wind returning as it pushed Sylas off of the ground and away into the crevices of the swamp. "Forever you shall be: The Good Loser." The women said in unison.
Sylas woke up screaming. The man placed his hand on her mouth, then used his other hand to put a finger up to his lips. Ew, Sylas thought. She then heard soft murmurs in the distance. It was night. The only source of light came from the moon above. Sylas laid on her back. The ground was hard, but it didn't feel like stone, more like extremely dry dirt. There seemed to be no trees around them. They were in a ditch. The walls of which were smooth and far enough from each other to fit the girth of the man and possibly a twin of his.
The man got up on his knees. The walls of the ditch were low enough for only his head to be poking out when he did so. He waved his hands to Sylas, signaling her to not move. He slowly made his way to the left wall of the ditch, making sure not to collide with any sticks or pebbles.
CRUNCH!
Sylas rose to a sitting position, as she did blood rushed to her head and she felt lightheaded. She grimaced and groaned, then heard a growl from the man. He had a look in his brown eye that screamed to shut up. She nodded. Once she collected herself, she began removing sticks from her long silver-gray hair. It was silky smooth, albeit some specks of dirt made it rougher. "I need to take a bath." She whispered.
A sharp pain radiated from her left horn. She brought her hand up to feel the horn, from the base to the tip. "A chip?" She thought as she ran her fingers throughout the rest of her horn to ensure it was the only one. "When did I get hurt?" She whispered. She looked at the man. He had removed his belt with all of his tools, it laid beside them closer to the right wall of the ditch. A knife was missing. Had he hurt her?
No, Sylas thought, an image of the three Rune-Marked women splashed into his mind. "It was them." She whispered. In this world could there be such a thing as a phenomena that invades dreams and harms the dreamer? Sylas thought this, then shivered, it is definitely a yes, she thought. She held onto the cape that covered her body, it seemed to have grown shorter by an inch or so while she slept. No, she herself had grown.
[This world is full of magic.]
The howl of a wolf shakes the land. Instinctively Sylas covered her ears. She felt a sudden jolt of energy wake her up.
The man grunted, then walked over to his belt. He put it on, then slid a knife back onto a hook. He picked up Sylas and placed her on his back. He stood up and easily got out of the ditch. Sylas got off his back. She almost fell to the ground, her knees failing, but caught herself. She was barefoot. She stretched as best as she could without any parts of her being revealed under the moonlight. The man watched. He sighed, then began walking. Sylas followed.
The land was barren. Pitch black rocks rested in a random assortment across it. In the far distance, Sylas could make out the edges of a forest. Her calves throbbed as she continued walking alongside the man. She took in all of her surroundings. The air was thick with a burning sensation lingering. She felt the crushing of sticks and the stabbing of small pebbles on the soles of her feet. She continued to lick her lips as dryness built up in her throat again. She thought of tugging at the man's coat sleeves, but stopped once she realized she could not talk to the man.
"System, how do I get Joost Nominisa?" She whispered.
[Correction: Joost Nomisma or JN for short.]
"Yeah, that. Nomisma."
[Sacrifices or Quests.]
"Like a ritual thing?"
[You are too low level to know.]
"What level am I?"
[0.]
"Huh, I thought I would begin at level 1! How do I get E.X.P?"
[Quests or Sacrifices.]
"No way. Do I have any current quests?"
[No.]
"What about the quest to kill him?"
[You failed it.]
"There was no way for me to kill him, I literally had nothing! May I get a different quest?"
[No.]
"Okay. Fuck. What about the auto-translate skill you mentioned?"
[Would you like to view your skills screen?]
"Yes! There must be a stats, quest, and inventory screen as well with that right?"
[You are too low level to access any menus.]
"Why would you ask me the question if you knew I couldn't access it?"
[New Quest has been unlocked.]
"Are you trolling me? Am I going to be too low level to accept it?"
[...]
"How the fuck do I hear or remember your silence. This way we communicate is way too bizarre. Can you change it, do you have a settings on you?"
[No.]
"Okay, then may I see the new quest?"
[You are too low level to accept the quest.]
Sylas covered her ears. "BLAH BLAH. Damn it! I can't even block it out, I lose every time. It's like I'm forced to remember your words and hear them for the first time all at once. It's so creepy. You, those Rune-Marked women, this man or miner, this world, this body of mine."
Sylas stopped walking. She lowered her head, slumped to the ground, and covered her face with both of her hands. Her sharp nails pierced into her scalp, a small amount of blood was drawn. "This is all too much for me. I should just go back to that ditch and die. I'm going to be killed by some hero anyway. I'm going to be the terror of the world? I'm the devil? I'm going to be some Demon Lord people hate. I would never do anyone wrong! I don't even know anything about this world and I'm fucking bound to lose!"
The man picked Sylas up. She was held well above his head when she moved her hands from her face to look around. She looked down at the man. He grunted and pointed up with one hand before quickly grabbing her. She looked up.
In the dark-blue sky was the silhouette of a wolf. It looked about the same size as an adult wolf had it been right in front of any human. Its eye was red, its body pitch black. It barked, well it had the animations of a wolf barking, no sound could be heard. The moon inched away from the wolf. It barked again. The moon got farther from it. Finally, the wolf pranced at the moon. The moon reacted by jolting itself away from the canvas of the night sky. Darkness overcame the lands for a moment. The stars disappeared, the clouds followed the moon as an orangish-purple glow overcame the horizon. The sky was tainted purple. The wolf paced around the position of the moon, sniffing the area before catching a scent. That took a few minutes. It started running after the moon, behind it as though being beckoned on, the sun arrived. The sun settled in place of the moon as the sky literally split apart and ushered in a light blue sky. New clouds accompanied the new day. Birds flew past to welcome the sun's warmth. The chirping of them sent chills down Sylas's spine.
Sylas's eyes widened. Her mouth was open in an oval shape and a faint smile formed underneath. "I can't die." She thought. "That was too beautiful."