In a tiny village on the outskirts of a dark, dense forest, a little girl with pale, wispy hair played hide and seek with her older brother. The wind whispered through the trees as she finished counting, her small voice echoing in the unsettling quiet. "Perci... Perci, I'm gonna find you," she called, her words hanging in the still air.
As she wandered through the village, her footsteps seemed to grow louder, echoing off the silent, empty houses. The village, once alive with the sounds of children playing, now felt disturbingly hollow. Open windows gaped like dark, vacant eyes, watching her as she passed. It was as if the village had emptied in the blink of an eye, leaving only her to roam its lifeless streets.
Her pace slowed, unease creeping up her spine. Every shadow seemed to stretch toward her, and the silence pressed down like a weight. When she passed her own home, she noticed the window was open. Standing just inside was her mother, but something was horribly wrong. Her mother stood unnaturally still, her body stiff and motionless, like a puppet with its strings cut. She wasn't moving—wasn't even breathing.
The girl hesitated, her instinct to call out stifled by a growing dread. As she edged closer, her mother's head snapped toward the window with a terrifying speed, her neck cracking in the unnatural motion. The girl froze, her breath catching in her throat.
Her mother's eyes were no longer the warm, familiar ones she knew. They were pitch black, save for tiny white irises that glared out with a cold, otherworldly malice. The sight was too much. The girl screamed, stumbling backward, her world unraveling in that horrifying moment.
She scrambled to her feet, terror propelling her forward as she ran. The village blurred around her as she sprinted, heart pounding in her chest. She didn't know where she was going—she just needed to get away from those awful eyes.
Suddenly, from behind a cluster of barrels, Perci jumped out with a triumphant grin. "Gotcha!" he shouted, laughing as he surprised her. But his laughter quickly died as he saw her tear-streaked face, her wide eyes filled with fear. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, his smile fading.
The little girl, breathless and trembling, tried to tell him what she had seen. "M-Mother... her eyes... they're..." But as she looked up at her brother, her words caught in her throat.
His eyes... they were the same. Pitch black, with those tiny white irises that bore into her soul.
---
The wagon jolted and creaked as it rolled over the uneven terrain of Blackridge Mountain, pulled by two majestic horses whose manes billowed in the cold, biting wind. The landscape was bleak, with jagged rocks and sparse vegetation—a harsh reminder of how unforgiving this world had become. The silence between the travelers had stretched long since Ban had joined them, a tense quiet broken only by the occasional rustle of the wind.
Darian, the human whom Ban had healed not long ago, finally mustered the courage to speak. "Thank you for healing me. That must have been an expensive elixir," he said, his voice uncertain as he glanced over at Ban, clearly still uneasy in the presence of the enigmatic traveler.
Ban, lounging casually at the back of the wagon, turned his head slightly and gave Darian a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, it's expensive, alright. Took me several years to save up enough to get it," Ban replied, his tone grave, though a hint of mischief danced in his eyes.
Darian's face paled as he stammered, "I-I'm so sorry. I can pay—"
Ban cut him off with a hearty laugh that echoed through the cold air. "Relax, I'm just messing with you. While it is expensive, I've got plenty more where that came from," he said, a smirk curling his lips. "Besides, if I really wanted payment, I wouldn't have waited this long to mention it."
Darian exhaled, relief washing over him as he leaned back, his previous tension melting away. The atmosphere in the wagon lightened a bit, but there was still an air of unease—a sense that not everything had been resolved.
Breaking the lingering silence, Bel spoke up, her voice carrying over the howling wind. "Excuse me, we haven't properly introduced ourselves yet," she began, her tone polite but firm. Ban looked up from his idle musings as she continued, "My name is Bel Malekith, and these are my comrades: Darian, Orolo, and Taod."
Ban's eyes flicked from one to the other as she introduced them, taking in their wary expressions. He noticed Taod, a frog-like being who seemed to be a mercenary. The creature's large eyes watched him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, while Orolo, the older elf, remained stoically silent at the front of the wagon.
"Malekith? So you're part of the royal family? Interesting~. What's a member of elven royalty doing so far from home?" Ban asked, taking a leisurely sip of water from his wooden jar. His tone was casual, but his eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Did something happen? Exiled, overthrown?"
Bel chuckled softly at his insinuations. "No, nothing like that. Actually, this is a mission given to me by my father." She offered a faint smile, though there was a subtle edge to her expression, as if she were accustomed to such questions.
"Really? A mission to the Sorcerers' Kingdom? That's... fascinating," Ban replied, his skepticism barely hidden. He leaned forward slightly, studying her. "And here I thought royalty usually sends others to do the dirty work."
Bel's smile didn't waver, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "Sometimes, a task is too important to delegate. And sometimes, it's better to see things for yourself than to rely on secondhand reports."
Ban raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Fair enough. Though, I can't help but wonder—why were you so adamant about me coming along? You've got your team, and you don't seem the type to ask for help lightly."
Bel hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "Well... you seemed useful."
Ban chuckled, the sound warm but with an underlying edge. "Useful? That's one way to put it."
Bel quickly corrected herself, her tone more sincere. "No, I didn't mean it like that. I meant... your strength is impressive, and you seem to have knowledge of magic. While I wouldn't say my companions are weak, it does make me feel safer knowing that you're around."
"Hehe, so basically, you brought me along as a bodyguard. Makes sense," Ban said, his smirk widening. "But I do have a question, though."
"Yes, what is it?" Bel asked, meeting his gaze steadily.
"You've acknowledged my power. What makes you think I won't just kill you and take your supplies?" Ban asked, his voice low and dangerous as he locked eyes with Bel, his hand casually resting on the hilt of his sword. The tension in the air thickened as the others in the carriage instinctively reached for their weapons.
Bel didn't flinch. Instead, she chuckled softly, her composure unwavering. "Well, it's because if you wanted to, you would have probably done it already. And you just aren't the type."
Ban's brow furrowed slightly. "How so?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"Ever since I was young, I've had a knack for reading the intentions of others," Bel explained, her voice calm but firm. "And your intentions seem... pure, despite your rough exterior. But don't misunderstand—I may not be as powerful as you, but I am not someone you could easily overcome." A green aura began to leak from her body, swirling around her like a protective shield. The air crackled with energy, and Ban could feel the strength behind it.
Ban chuckled, his respect for her growing. "Hm, well, that's all I needed to hear." He relaxed his grip on his sword and leaned back, impressed by her confidence. Bel had managed to gain Ban's respect. Originally, he had thought she was a foolish princess who didn't know how the world worked, especially after how quickly she had trusted him. But now, he thought otherwise.
Suddenly, the wagon came to a halt. Orolo, the older elf, called out, "Taod, Darian, unload the supplies. We'll camp here for the night. You should help out as well." Orolo's glare fell upon Ban.
"Whatever you say, Captain," Ban muttered, sarcasm in his voice as he climbed down from the wagon, picking up some fabrics from the back. As he did, his thoughts drifted back to the recent encounter with the Tarnished. Something about it didn't seem right. While he knew of their weakness to fire, it wasn't all that different from a human's vulnerability—just more pronounced due to their flammable and corrosive blood. But the flames he used weren't capable of turning them to ash.
An on top of that the Tarnished gave off a strange aura, foreign magic that Ban didn't recognise but it's as he picking up anither piece of firewood he hears something to his right. He pauses for a bit and then carries on picking fire wood.
Am being stalked, he thought to himself as he continued to pick sticks like nothing was happening.
Back at the camp, Orolo is arguing with Bel, "Princess please, we have no reason to trust this human." Orolo said, Bel answered annoyed "Are you questioning my ability-" but she was cut off "I do not doubt your ability to read the intentions of others but, you have misread intentions before, and even if his intentions are pure who knows if they will stay that way." As orolo and Bel Continued to argue, Toad who was seating with Darian next to the fire, he turns his head behind him, his sharp sense of smell had alerted him to someone approaching, but the sent was off.
As he glanced behind him, he went wide eyed as he made a loud croaking sound as he drew his two daggers, making the others look towards him. "What's the matter? has the human returned?" Orolo said annoyed , but he too went wide eyed when a creature walked out from the clearing.
"What the-" Orolo said as he caught a full look of the creature. The creature stood on twisted limbs, a grotesque fusion of decayed human and animal corpses. Its body was a patchwork of rotting flesh, jagged bones jutting out at odd angles, barely held together by sinew. Distorted faces—both human and beast—were fused into its hide, mouths frozen in silent, agonized screams, with hollow eyes staring blankly from the mass of decaying tissue.
With each step, the creature's body seemed to pulse and writhe, as if struggling to remain intact. A nauseating stench of death and rot clung to it, and the sickening sound of flesh dragging across the ground accompanied its movements.