Hemsberg was a small town on the outskirts of the Kingdom of Oriaet a small nation nestled in a small valley of a mountain range. Which was the primary reason it had not been conquered by its neighbors. Other than occasional goblin attack it was mostly an uneventful place that was until half the Kingdom during the night of the lunar New Year festival witnessed what seemed like a piece of the comet itself fall from the sky and land somewhere in the Kingdom itself.
Vern and Geran were not good men. In reality, they were petty criminal scoundrels, but they couldn't pass up the chance when they saw and even felt Hemsted shake from the impact in the nearby forest. Half the town knew and were scouring the large forest at the base of the mountains. Everyone knew well enough that it was best not to let this information leak outside of the town otherwise every noble, prince, and commoner in the Kingdom would flood into their town and the chance of any reward would be lost to the people here.
Both Vern and Geran however were not interested in sharing or helping the town they just wanted to live a relaxed life in the city with women at their side and any reward from the King would surely set them up for life.
"Say, Vern! Don't ya think we should be going to the center of the forest? Everyone else went there." Geran asked.
"Nah if it had hit the center of the forest we would have seen signs of it sooner. No, I reckon whatever it was it fell towards the base of the mountain."
"I guess you are right" Geran muttered.
The sun had reached its peak and the forest was quite quiet. As the two scoundrels began to feel the incline as the mountain roots gradually increased how steep their hike was Vern noticed what appeared to be scarring on the trees. "Oye! Look there" he pointed over there eagerly as he ran towards several trees that were warped and broken in a uniform direction as if something impacted on the other side.
"We are going to be rich Geran! I told you!"
"You are a genius brother!"
The two burly men slowly made their way past the debris into the crater. At the center lay a young lady with white hair that came to her shoulders and flawless porcelain skin. She was young, but it was difficult to tell her age though it was obviously young.
Both men stopped looking at each other. Around the young woman was a pool of dark inky substance thicker than water, but it didn't flow like any fluid they had ever seen.
Vern, the more cautious of the two, scanned their surroundings with a wary eye. His rough features bore the signs of a life lived on the edge of legality. His furrowed brow betrayed a mix of curiosity and wariness, while his calloused hands twitched involuntarily. Vern always knew magic and unnatural phenomena could be approached with extreme wariness more than a few people met their deaths from running in without thought.
Geran, on the other hand, was more intrigued than cautious. His eyes widened with a childlike wonder as he surveyed the scene before them. A mop of unruly hair framed his face, and a crooked smile played on his lips. He leaned closer to the inky substance surrounding the young woman, oblivious to Vern's warnings.
As they descended into the crater, their footsteps muffled by the thick undergrowth, Vern's gaze darted between the strange substance and Nyxeria. His instincts screamed caution, warning him of the unnaturalness of the black pool that seemed to cling to the ground like an otherworldly tar.
Nyxeria lay sprawled in the center, an ethereal figure against the stark backdrop of the crater. Her alabaster skin appeared almost luminescent in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the canopy. Strands of white hair framed her delicate features, contrasting sharply with the darkness of the substance surrounding her. She lay unmoving, a portrait of serenity amidst the chaos, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
In short, Vern had never seen such beauty in his life. Though she was obviously young there was no telling where she had come from and judging from where she was…she was what fell through the sky last night. Which to Vern meant a large red flag screaming danger.
Geran's curiosity got the better of him as he crouched down.
"Now Geran don't go doing something dumb. Do you think that touching that is a good idea?
Geran didn't take heed of Vern's warnings. His fingers hovered tentatively over the inky pool, his gaze fixed on its unnatural movements. It seemed to pulsate faintly, a rhythmic ebb and flow that defied any natural explanation. The air around it hummed with an otherworldly energy, sending a shiver down Geran's spine. Who then retracted his hand.
Vern let out a breath of relief. The last thing he wanted was to deal with an incapacitated Geran, ever cautious, remained standing, his eyes flitting between Nyxeria and the forest's edge. His instincts screamed danger, a primal unease that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"Brotha…that girl is naked!" Geran nearly shouted.
"Really? I couldn't tell" Vern said, groaning at his brother's simplicity. He wasn't the smartest man in the world, but he did think he had good instincts, but his brother was an oaf. But he listened, which was half the battle.
Both men slowly made their way down the slightly steep incline "Geran don't go touching that black water it looks unnatural." Vern cautioned as they approached the woman.
"What should we do?" Geran asked as he crouched down looking closer at the inky substance.