The shadow over azalot

Prologue 1.1

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Our existence spans the entire existence of humanity possibly. We come from the future, past and present, and we are summoned directly from "the root of magic" the place, or thing, where upon our death our existence is taken over and we are turned into objects of use by magicians <>. Our names are our most important relics, possibly more than our magical abilities, more than our styles of magic, more than any special talent. Our name encompasses our entire history, a person who knows our name knows us from beginning to end, as long as we are important historical figures such as Gilgamesh, Agiles, Hercules or King Arthur. Of course, although there are some stories that were passed down to a time that was not theirs by selfish gods, playwrights, writers or some other means. Legends such as King Arthur, the Thousand and One Nights or in my case "Sherlock Holmes" are considered fictional beings, born from the imagination of man when in truth we did exist, but as repeated in another time or another very distant time, where the earth died and was reborn. Even our gender is confused and we were told it because they are such ancient stories. Or if not, tell it to the god, and not the goddess, Aphrodite, or to Queen Arthur herself, and not Arthur as many think, or to the To finish off, in my case, I am a woman and for some reason one of my summoners, "Arthur Conan Doyle", put me as a man in his books, which in reality are more like a biography of my life than a book, excluding the later books after my death at the bottom of the turbulent lake, which I have no idea why he continued writing. Of course, one cannot deny his excellent way of writing.

—In a cabin.

I open my eyes and find myself in the same gloomy and humid cabin as always, or well, from a few days after being summoned. I get up and get dressed quickly without paying attention to my surroundings that were too depressing. A dark wooden cabin, with two beds and windows in front of them, a bathroom and a fireplace. <>. I leave the inside of the cabin and look up, the same rainbow sky, which more than sky was a barrier in the shape of half a planet, that is, half a sphere. The rainbow color was possibly the only happy thing to see in this unpleasant town, but well, you can't expect a very healthy environment when you know that your possible death is when you leave this barrier. That your death is possibly in a deformed creature that slowly devours your body, or much worse, that your body turns into a monster when inhaling through the nose the mist that affects living beings.

—Are you leaving without saying goodbye? —I look in the direction of the voice.

It was that girl, or rather an old woman in mind and young in body, my summoner, a very nice person, although too noisy. Well, at least she is a very competent magician so that makes up for it.

—Yes, I don't like goodbyes—I answer—although it's not like there are too many people interested in my leaving the town—I crossed my arms.

—Are you sure? —the girl approaches me, opens my hand and puts something inside—. It's a gift from Belle, she's sick again so she couldn't come see you, but why did we stop her from coming, because if not—she scratches her long green hair—...Anyway, she wishes you a good trip, and so do we.

I look at the ribbon in my hand. I use it to wrap my hair into a single ponytail. A faint smile appears on my face.

"What a smile," she looked surprised. "That's unusual for you, Sherlock."

—I'm a person too, you know—I put my hands on my waist, showing a tone of disgust at the comment of the girl in front of me—. Well, I'm leaving Barbatos, God willing I'll sell within two weeks, if we have bad luck then I'll die, again, on the way, but let's hope that's not the case—I walk away with an overly polite tone.

I walk away from the entire small town, goodbye to the houses, goodbye to the people, goodbye to everything I've known since I was summoned basically. I walk through the rainbow barrier, and a thick, white mist appears in my field of vision. A mist that extends beyond this forest, or the next one, or the one after this one. A mist that transforms people into beasts and consumes this entire kingdom, the entire kingdom of Azalot.

—1 hour later.

It's been a while since I left that gloomy forest. Now I find myself in a large and spacious meadow, but with a peculiarity.

—Oh! These are the creatures of the mist—a horde of deformed creatures is in front of me, some have hooves, others claws, others extra parts on their bodies, in short, a large number of deformed beings.

Their gazes penetrated my interior, their fluorescent white eyes would leave a feeling of unease in anyone who saw them. They even gave me chills.

—Disgusting—a few simple words come out of me.

Then that horde of creatures pounces on me in unison, like a pack of out-of-control bulls or wild animals after their prey. <>. I created a revolver in my left hand and a sword in my right.

—Well... they serve to warm up at least—I say, and then attack those monsters, who were previously people who were corrupted by the mist that surrounded them.