Aria looked upon a ruined fortress, its crumbled walls cloaked in a heavy blanket of snow, perched solemnly beside a frozen lake. Broken stones lay scattered and forlorn, whispering of battles long lost. The desolate scene was eerily silent—no sound, no movement, no sign of life.
But then, the stillness broke. The snow, which had been lazily drifting to the ground, froze mid-air and began to rise, defying gravity. The sun, instead of setting in the west, reversed its course, plunging below the northern horizon. Aria's breath hitched as she realized what she was witnessing—time was flowing backward, accelerating at an unnatural speed. Days flickered into nights in the blink of an eye, turning into months and then years, the rapid passage of time too swift for her to follow.
Gradually, the pace slowed. Through the reversed flow of time, monstrous shapes emerged, moving toward the ruins in retreating strides. They were Nightmare creatures—beasts of grotesque forms and chilling presence. Their twisted visages and overwhelming power sent a shiver down her spine, and the scene grew even more nightmarish.
Aria watched as roaring flames flared and then snuffed out, as if swallowed by the winds of time. The fortress rebuilt itself stone by stone, blood recoiling from the ground and walls, flowing back into the bodies of both men and monsters. The carnage unraveled itself—an entire war, the fall of the once-mighty fortress, played out in eerie reverse. What had been destruction became restoration, but the horror of the events lingered in the air.
Time slowed, stopped and then resumed its usual pace.
[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your first trail...]
Suddenly, a cold splash of water struck her face, sending a jolt through her body.
"Get up, soldier! Be outside in five minutes!" a gruff voice barked.
Shivering violently, Aria wiped the icy water from her face, her heart racing in confusion. Her eyes snapped open, and she found herself staring up at a crude ceiling, the cold air biting at her skin. "What the hell? What is that guy's problem?" she muttered in horror. Regaining her composure, she began to take in her surroundings. She was lying on a wooden bed, covered by a rough deer pelt, in what seemed to be a small stone house. The room was cramped, with just enough space for a modest kitchen, a fireplace, a closet, and a mirror. The single window was barricaded, its light barely peeking through the makeshift blocks.
The sun's rays filtered through, landing on her face, while droplets of water fell from her long black hair onto the floor. She instinctively wiped her face, feeling the cold water slide down her skin. She froze as her gaze traveled lower—she was completely naked.
'No wonder I'm so cold,' she thought with a grimace.
Quickly, she sat up, squeezing the water from her hair as she glanced at the mirror across the room. Her breath caught in her throat. The face staring back at her was not her own. She had truly entered her first nightmare.
The reflection was of a woman—tall, strong, and strikingly beautiful. Her long raven-black hair cascaded down to her lower back, and her icy blue eyes gleamed with an intimidating sharpness. Her face was pale and smooth, lips tinted with a faint blueish hue, adding an otherworldly touch to her beauty. But what really caught Aria's attention was her body.
Standing at an imposing 6'2" (1.90m), the woman was muscular—her long limbs sculpted with defined muscles, a chiseled six-pack, and a pair of… well, assets that would make anyone do a double-take. Aria's gaze lingered there, a flicker of jealousy crossing her mind.
'Well, at least I'm still growing…' she thought with a pouting frown, trying to shake off her envy.
Her new form was everything she had trained for, yet the sight of it was both awe-inspiring and a bit intimidating. But there was no time to dwell on it.
She wanted to summon her runes—after all, that was her first step. The first step away from being a mere mundane. Without overthinking it, she focused on the thought, and to her surprise, it worked. A set of shimmering runes materialized in the air before her, reading.
***
Name: Aria
True Name: —
Rank: Aspirant
Soul Core: Dormant
Memories: —
Echoes: —
Attributes: [Strong Bones], [Keen Smell]
Aspect: [Frost Warrior]
Aspect description: [Forged in the heart of relentless cold, you embody the resilience of ice and the ferocity of winter. A Frost Warrior is battle-hardened, fearless, and unyielding, possessing unmatched strength of will and spirit.]
Her eyes sparkled with excitement. Frost Warrior. That sounded so cool. She had half expected to be greeted with some useless aspect like Sunny had gotten in his first nightmare, but this? This was something else entirely. She grinned, a wide smile spreading across her face as she continued reading.
Aspect Ability: [Arctic Resilience]
Ability description: [With the essence of the frozen wilderness coursing through you, your body is endowed with an unyielding resilience against the harshest of winters.]
Her excitement grew even more. She could already tell how valuable this ability would be. It might take a little experimenting to fully understand it, but the potential was undeniable. She was beyond thrilled with her start—this was definitely shaping up to be a good one.
Next, she moved on to the attributes.
[Strong Bones] Attribute description: "Your body is built to endure. Dense and resilient, your bones give you an edge in strength and durability, allowing you to withstand greater physical challenges than most."
[Keen Smell] Attribute description: "Your sense of smell is razor-sharp, able to detect subtle scents and faint traces that others would overlook. Whether tracking or detecting danger, your nose rarely fails."
She read over her runes again and again, still grinning like a kid in a candy store. It was clear to her now—everything about her kit was centered around power and resilience. Of course, there was still a lot to test and explore, but she couldn't help herself. She was so happy with the results. What better start was there than this? Honestly, she couldn't think of one.
After a moment of calming herself down, Aria straightened her posture. She took in the weight of her new reality. There was no going back. The Nightmare had truly begun.
-------
The clamor of swords striking against shields reverberated through the grand hall, a chaotic symphony of steel and sweat. Aria adjusted her grip on the shield strapped to her arm, her muscles straining as she braced for another strike. A bead of sweat slid down her temple, testament to the intensity of the sparring match.
Or rather, Beth's sparring match. That was the name everyone here knew her by—the identity of the body she now inhabited. As a member of the fortress guard, Beth's duty was to defend the towering walls of this enormous stronghold. It had been three days since Aria first awakened here, and in that time, she had learned quite a bit about her situation.
This fortress, still standing proud and strong, was the same ruin she had seen at the beginning of the Nightmare. Back then, it had been reduced to rubble, its stones scattered across a frozen wasteland. But now, in its prime, it was a bastion of power and purpose. Yet Aria couldn't shake the unease that clung to her. She knew what was coming—had seen it with her own eyes. The horde of nightmare creatures that would storm these walls was an inevitability, and the vivid memories of those grotesque, haunting beasts sent shivers down her spine.
Some of those creatures had even survived the downfall, escaping the wreckage of the fortress. What terrifying ranks and classes might they hold? The mere thought was enough to set her on edge.
The purpose of this Nightmare seemed both clear and daunting: to prevent the fall of the fortress. To change history—or rather fate. The enormity of the challenge weighed heavily on her, not because of the task itself, but because of her place in it.
Even with her newfound build and strength, Aria—no, Beth—was still one of the lowest-ranking guards. She was just another soldier in the ranks, destined to be overlooked in the grander scheme of things. And yet, she refused to let that diminish her resolve.
I will find a way, she thought as she deflected another blow with her shield, her jaw tightening with determination. This fortress won't fall—not if I can help it.
-------
The sparring match raged on, the clash of wooden swords echoing through the hall as Aria threw herself into every strike with determination. Her opponent, Blake, a tall, wiry man with a scar over his left eyebrow and a cocky smirk to match, danced around her attacks with infuriating ease.
"Not bad, Beth," he called, sidestepping another wild swing. "But you're treating that sword like a club."
"I'm trying!" she snapped, her face flushed with exertion. Her shield moved instinctively to block an incoming strike, the wooden blades colliding with a sharp crack. That part she could manage. But her swordwork? It felt like a foreign language she'd yet to master. She had trained with a wooden sword before, a lot actually. Just never against a real person before, you couldn't just go around beating people up with a wooden sword around NQSC after all.
Blake chuckled, his voice teasing but not cruel. "Trying's good, but thinking's better. You've got strength, no doubt about it, but strength without control is just wasted energy."
Aria gritted her teeth and pushed forward, swinging her sword in a wide arc. Blake ducked easily, his counterstrike aiming for her exposed side. She managed to intercept it with her shield, but the motion threw her off balance.
"Damn it!" she muttered, shifting her stance to recover.
"You rely too much on that shield," Blake said, circling her like a predator sizing up its prey. "It's solid work, I'll give you that. But a sword's not just for swinging, Beth. It's for precision, finesse."
"Yeah, yeah," she shot back, frustration bubbling in her chest. She lunged again, putting all her weight behind the attack, only for Blake to parry with a flick of his wrist. His movements were fluid, almost lazy, compared to her clumsy, brute-force strikes.
Her muscles burned as she tried to keep up, her blows becoming more erratic. Finally, in a desperate attempt to break through his defenses, she feigned a high strike and pivoted low, aiming for his legs. For a split second, she thought she had him.
But Blake was faster. He sidestepped, twisting his body just enough to avoid the blow, and brought his sword down hard on her shield. The impact jolted her arm, and she stumbled backward, her grip faltering. Before she could regain her footing, Blake's blade tapped her shoulder lightly—just enough to signal the end.
"Yield," he said, his voice calm but firm.
Aria let out an exasperated sigh, dropping her sword to her side. "Fine," she muttered, leaning on her shield for support. Her heart pounded in her chest, sweat dripping down her face and stinging her eyes.
Blake grinned and extended a hand. "Not bad" he said as he pulled her to her feet. "You've got raw power, I'll give you that. But a sword's not really your thing, is it?"
She frowned, brushing herself off. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Blake said, slinging his own practice sword over his shoulder, "you're built for endurance, for holding the line. That shield? That's where you shine. But the sword? Let's just say it's not your best friend."
Aria glared at him for a moment, then sighed. He wasn't wrong. Every swing felt clunky, forced, like she was fighting against the weapon itself. "Guess I'll have to get better at it," she said grudgingly.
"Maybe," Blake replied, his grin softening into something almost encouraging. "Or maybe you focus on what you're already good at. Shields win battles too, you know."
She couldn't argue with that, as much as she wanted to. Picking up her shield, she stared at it for a moment, her reflection barely visible in its polished surface. She might not have the finesse for swordsmanship, but she wasn't about to let that stop her.
Blake clapped her on the shoulder. "Keep at it, Beth. You've got potential, even if your sword looks like it's trying to escape your hand."
"Wow thanks," she said dryly, though a small smile tugged at her lips.
As he walked off, Aria stood there for a moment, the weight of the spar settling in her chest. She'd lost, sure, but she wasn't defeated. This was just another step in a long journey, and if she had to wield a sword, she'd learn to do it.
But if not? She'd turn her shield into a weapon no one could match.
That was the way of a hero after all.