Bonus chapter thank you for the support everyone!
Asher leaned against the window of his new office, the dim light of twilight spilling into the room. He had been waiting for nightfall, his thoughts restless as he prepared to confront the nightmare ahead. The shadows deepened outside, cloaking Menthil City in a shroud of uncertainty.
Earlier that day, he had approached Captain Bolard, hoping to subtly address his need for a more suitable workspace.
"Captain," Asher began, his tone casual, "I've noticed the office arrangements seem a bit tight. It's difficult to focus amidst all the clutter."
Bolard raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're not wrong, Asher. It can be quite a circus around here," he replied, leaning back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful.
Asher took a breath, gauging Bolard's response. "I suppose I was wondering if you might have something more… personal? A space where I can delve deeper into our work without the constant distractions?"
The Captain's expression shifted, assessing. "You mean more privacy? I can appreciate the need for solitude when dealing with delicate matters."
Asher nodded, maintaining a composed demeanor. "Exactly. Certain aspects of our work require a clearer head, and I'd hate to miss crucial details due to… external noise."
After a moment of contemplation, Bolard smirked, the glint in his eye suggesting he understood more than he let on. "Very well, Asher. How about the office right next to mine? I believe it's unoccupied, and it should serve you well."
A surge of gratitude welled up in Asher, which he masked behind a nod. "That would be perfect, Captain. Thank you for considering my request."
Bolard waved a dismissive hand. "Just ensure you keep the noise to a minimum. I'll be keeping an ear out."
Asher chuckled lightly, a blend of relief and apprehension washing over him. "I wouldn't dream of disrupting your work, sir."
With their conversation settled, Asher shifted his focus back to the room, the silence almost suffocating. He glanced at the clutter of papers on his desk, his attention suddenly drawn to the weight on his left hand—the ring he had worn since near the start of his stint here at the firm.
It was a constant reminder of the unknown, and he could feel its presence almost pulsating against his skin.
Asher stared at the ring on his left hand, its weight feeling heavier than ever. The opal at its center reflected the dim light, but no flicker or mystical glow revealed any hidden power. Its secrets, however, were well known to him by now—perhaps too well.
Since the day he had first slipped it on, the ring had bound itself to him in ways that defied explanation. The mere fact that he could never remove it was proof enough of its ominous nature. A prison for souls—Antoinette Fiugeria being the tragic proof of that fact.
He remembered the tale from the old book Renee had given him, Eternal Nightmare. The princess, filled with ambition and led astray by Florence Hesparee, was trapped in a reality worse than death: eternal sleep, her soul bound within the ring, lost in its dark depths. Her identity had decayed, swallowed by the very object that now sat on Asher's finger.
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. What if the same fate awaited him?
Asher leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the opal. His mind wandered through the events of the past few weeks. The ring had done nothing outwardly sinister to him—not yet. But it was always there, like a shadow, reminding him of its power and potential danger. Every time he looked at it, he was reminded of Antoinette's fate—her endless prison, the corruption of her spirit.
His eyes flicked to the inscription on the band, written in ancient Stellarian—Somnus Aeternus. He didn't know what it meant. The language was long dead, and no one had offered him a translation. But somehow, Asher felt the weight of the words without understanding their literal meaning. Whatever they said, they couldn't be good.
Had Renee known? Was there more she hadn't told him?
His thoughts turned to Renee's mysterious decision to give him the book in the first place. There was no way it was a coincidence, and yet she'd offered no explanations, no warnings—just left him to draw his own conclusions.
Asher's hand clenched involuntarily. Was the ring watching him now? Testing him? Waiting for the moment when it would spring its trap? The idea gnawed at him, though he had to admit, in all his dealings with it, the ring had been... passive. But could that be the point? Could its lethargy be masking its true intentions?
The silence in the room grew louder. The tick of the clock on the wall seemed to echo his thoughts, punctuating the growing unease that welled up inside him.
You're stronger than this, Asher told himself. But even as he thought it, his eyes returned to the opal's soft gleam, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something inside the ring was staring back.
I can't keep delaying further exploration into the ring's prowess. A time would surely come when he would require its aid, though he might not like the consequences—certain or otherwise.
Steeling himself, he channeled his will into the ring, coating it with his spiritual essence. Black nebulous clouds coalesced around the ring, encasing it in their dark embrace.
"Somnus Aeternus."
A snowflake froze out of the air's ambient moisture. Then more followed until a nascent blizzard enveloped the room. Asher admired the beautiful phenomenon, noting that he didn't feel the biting cold gnawing at him. How helpful the owner seems, he thought, unaffected by the frost.
Then, without warning, Asher felt an odd pull, like a magnetic force drawing him closer to the ring. It was as if the ring itself wanted him to enter. Curiosity ignited within him, mixing with apprehension. He had to know more.
Tentatively, Asher focused on the opal, willing himself to explore its depths. Suddenly, the room around him faded, and he found himself falling deep within himself. The sensation was familiar; he had felt it during his descent. The weight of his body vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of space.