“Waaahahahayyyyy!”

Life was unfair and I was tired, which is how I found myself on my knees, crying.

Why me? I did everything right, I survived, I listened to the knight’s last words, I made it down the road and to the temple, I followed the rules! I’m hurt, exhausted, I’m done, so done, I deserve to wake up.

So why?

Why did she lead me to another toad demon?

My hoarse voice rang throughout the temple, echoing back as the only other sound within this hopelessly silent place. I didn’t like the sound of it, so hoarse and quiet. It made me feel even more lonely and forgotten than before. Tears leaking from my eyes were immediately sucked back up by my dried and shriveled skin.

Is this not a dream at all, is it some sort of cruel joke? Did she lie to me? Wait, was she in cahoots with the demon toads? Gods, it’s a trap! I don’t deserve this. I did everything right, I’m not a bad person, I swear!

But the ring, taken from an unburied corpse came to mind.

Then the murder of two people, even if they attacked me first. I attacked the second one first, though.

I was scared! He would’ve killed me, I had to kill him first!

I remembered how I squished the first demon frog.

He had it coming. He wanted my soul.

More and more guilt piled up and I curled up into a ball, tighter and tighter.

Oh gods, please, show me a hole where I can just lie down and die in! Let me wake up and get me out of this nightmare, out of this hell!

No one answered. I was lying for what felt like hours but was probably more, and through it all, the toad was polite enough to stay quiet as I squirmed in front of its profane altar in self-loathing. A part of me never wanted to get up ever again, but, as thoughts so often do, one woke me from my spiraling stupor.

I feel like a worm in one of those offering bowls. Wiggling, squirming in dirt. Wait, I have armor, so I guess I’m more like a small beetle than a squishy worm.

Maybe I’m just a worm in armor?

Peel before consumption, please.

“Hmph.” The toad finally let out a puff of air. I looked up at it, my eyes no doubt red and dry. I could feel more hair matted to my forehead and face, some of it sticking to my eye as I tried blinking it away.

“P-p-please. Don’t. Eat. My. Soul.” I whimpered. To be fair, to me, that was a valid fear.

I bet I look just like another tasty offering to you. Damn you, woman, for sending me to the altar of your fiendish patron!

She had had snake-styled everything, and lizards were close enough to frogs that my mind instantly latched onto this haphazard connection as being part of some larger conspiracy.

I’m in a land of devil worshippers and they all want to eat my precious soul. AAAAAAAAAAAH!

The toad simply sat there. It didn’t seem to have moved even an inch from within its own bowl and, rather than look at me with the eyes of a predator or devil, it slowly closed them, as if sinking into deep thought.

It’s contemplating my fate, no, this is a ruse to draw out my suffering and get my hopes up, just to smash them in the end. Demons enjoy the sufferings of mortals, especially ones like me. I don’t wanna be toad chow!

If-If it wants to eat me, I’ll stab it! Kill it, cut it open! I-I’m not afraid. I’ve killed before, I can do it again. It’s just a demon after all.

I kept my gaze locked onto it and with my left hand, slowly motioned for my sword I had dropped during my fit.

A-and if I can’t, ‘cause I’m too weak, I’ll die. Sword in hand. Like a knight.

The thought gave me little comfort, but I gathered what little puddle of resolve I had and slowly stood up.

He’ll never see it coming.

It was now or never.

I raised my sword.

“Not so hasty, little one.” A low and slow voice crept from the depths of its throat. I hesitated, taken aback by the feeling it caused in my chest, as if it were thrumming strings in my heart.

“Little. O-one?!” I felt both adequately addressed and infuriatingly insulted.

R-r-rude!

“Yes. Thou art a trifling for certain.” It boomed once more. I looked at the toad which, while respectable in its dimensions for a toad, was still only sitting at roughly my chest height, even while perched atop its podium. Most of it’s size was delegated to width rather than height but somehow, it still found the gall to call me small. I hated that.

“Thou art upset, little one.” I gave it the flattest of looks. It was doing it on purpose.

YES, evidently, I am VERY upset. Horribly so. I-I don’t think I’ve ever been so upset in my entire life. I, well, don’t remember ever being so for evident reasons, but I could feel it!

I glared at the creature, knowing full well the world would be better off without it.

And it’s all your fault.

I could squish you.

The toad didn’t seem nearly as bothered by the whole situation as I was. I’d half expected it to laugh at me. I could take that. Then I’d have stabbed it really hard. A justified response. I’d also expected it to do something vulgar, like burp, lick its eye or cough up a human skull.

Instead, it folded its front legs together. They were still toad hands, but the weirdly human gesture was still a dissonance that my mind couldn’t quite resolve. I lowered my sword slightly, still gripping it tight. Also, it was still very heavy.

“Good. Thou art settled. Somewhat” It peeked through its thick eyelids, taking in my shaded frame.

Can it even see in the dark? It’s not too dark, I can see a few feet away after all. Bless the ring. I shouldn’t doubt the angel lady. How was she supposed to know that a disgusting toad had made this temple its personal home? No, she couldn’t have, it was the toad’s fault.

My grip around the sword tightened again.

“Thou hast braved much to arrive here. And yet, though art disappointing.” It said.

“…What?”

“Hrmph.”

What does it mean, ‘disappointing’? Who does it think it has the right to judge me? More importantly, why is it judging me? Oh. Oh fuck. What if this isn’t a dream. What if the reason I woke up in a coffin is because I actually died? What if I’m in the afterlife and what if the weight of my soul is being judged by this… thing?

What if all this was a test just to see what kind of person I really am? I killed people, I killed toads, hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m already in Hell and all this is just a formality.

I felt beads of sweat form on my face as I kept on contemplating about the weight of the situation which suddenly had the very real possibility of being about where I’d spend the rest of my time after death. The sun, where good people went so they could shine their virtues upon the earth, thereby give birth to new life and have a swell ol’ time. Or hell, where all those whose souls were laden with sin and dragged down by their weight would go to rot and be purified through… bad stuff.

That’s as far as I remember. I need to stop thinking over and over and start knowing. Can I just… ask?

“Why?” I asked.

I had a lot more questions than just ‘why’, but the increasingly all-encompassing fear of being judged for all that I’ve done wrong overshadowed the rest. Even if I was being judged by a toad, of all things.

Maybe that’s part of the test.

“How presumptuous, to ask a question of Glom.”

I paused.

Oh shit. That’s bad, isn’t it?

“Though, the Idea does bring amusement.”

Oh shit. That’s… good?

I was on edge, like that one time I took an exam for something I don’t remember. Coincidentally, I also remembered not remembering something very important at the time, which in turn only proved to me that these mountain-sized gaps in my memory were going to be a problem. If Glom was going to answer my questions, then I was going to ask them. All of them.

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“Very well.” It said. “Thou shall receive four answers.”

Four? Why just four? I have so many more questions buzzing around inside me. Am I dead? Are you a demon or a devil? Why is everything dark? Will the sun ever rise again? Where can I get a bath? Can I glow, too? Do you happen to have a relative living in the graveyard? Four aren’t enough.

“Bu-“ I started as I was cut off by Glom, who was evidently not done talking yet.

“Thy first question. ‘Why?’. Though art disappointingly weak. A puny wormling. Barely out of thine grave thou stepped and almost thou hast croaked again.”

“I…” I, well, I couldn’t fault that. Maybe the way he called me a ‘puny wormling’, but it was true that I was weak. I almost died to a puny bristle spider. It was only the size of my head.

Regardless, I needed to ask another question.

“Am. I. Dreaming?”

“Thy second. Thou art awake.”

“Oh.”

Okay. That… well maybe that was a stupid question. If I am dreaming, I’ll wake up anyways. If I’m not, then everything is real and will have real consequences. So, the only reasonable thing to do is treat everything like it’s not a dream. Which means I actually woke up in a stone sarcophagus with my name on it, I killed two people and the demon frog, and I stole from the angel-lady’s corpse.

Hah. If I really am being judged for my sins, the results are going to be damning. Godsdammit. I just wanted some light so I could see what the hell was going on. I didn’t want to kill those two people. But I did. I had to.

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and that stupid chocking feeling of immeasurable guilt again.

I’m going to hell. I’m so going to hell.

“A­–“ I choked up. “Am I a bad egg?”

Glom quirked an eyebrow at me. Toads don’t have eyebrows, but it was still very clear that whatever he was doing, that’s what it was supposed to be.

“Thy third. It… remains to be seen.”

It was as damning a judgement as any. I felt devastated. I really was being judged.

I… I just want to sleep now. Lie in a cozy bed and forget everything. I’ve had a bad day.

The toad let an audible stream of air out of its nose. It made a face, which is to say it turned its head ever so slightly and let its gaze rest on mine, with the same unchanging expression. The toad said nothing as it looked at me for a few moments and the sudden silence made me nervous.

“Um, mister Glom, sir? Why is everything so dark?”

The toad burst into a low, grumbling mix of laughter and croaking. Never was I ever convinced any more that this creature was a spawn of the underworld and that I was, in fact, in hell.

“The sun, extinguished.” It started.

“The sky, fallen. The land fissured and broke. The sea drowned and choked.” It was laughing all the while.

“Our world has ended.” Its human teeth were showing in a smile. My headache was getting worse.

“Worry about thyself, little one. Our world hath fallen far, yet still thou art naught but a worm.”

I had had enough. Of walking around without purpose. Of fearing for my life. Of pain. Of being insulted by a damn frog too big for its own bowl.I staggered to the edge of the central round chamber, then further down one of the rectangular hallways.

I found a nice corner. I plopped myself down.

And then I slept horribly.

----------------------------------------

Nothing more than a worm. A worm, a worm, a worm.

It echoed in my head. Was I awake or asleep again? I could feel myself standing on the brink of something. I didn’t dare take a step; I simply couldn’t see which way would take me where or where I even wanted to be.

You’ll never amount to anything!

“GAH!” I was definitely awake now.

I feel... slightly more rested than before. I’m getting into a bad habit of falling unconscious under less-than-ideal circumstances. I slept in my armor on the cold hard floor and with a warm… blanket.

I didn’t fall asleep under a blanket.

A rustling sounded to my right.

I couldn’t find my sword. I had dropped it and as I instinctively searched around with both my hands, I felt the pain in my right arm flare up.

“Ya’ shouldn’t move much, miss.” A voice told me. It seemed male and didn’t sound like the toad.

I think.

I was lying on my side and as I turned on my back, I bent my neck forwards, trying to make out a shape moving in the darkness surrounding me.

“W-who?” I sputtered.

“Oh. My bad. One moment. I’m not used to seeing people anymore. Been quite a while.” I heard cloth shifting, then I felt it move next to me as well.

I craned my neck towards the figure. I could faintly make out his body and face, but all I can say is that he didn’t look like much. He looked like a normal human guy, not very broad shouldered, tall, or small. I wasn’t close enough to make out much on his face. His voice was… kind of nice. Soft. It didn’t leave the angelically soothing impression of the angel-lady, but it was mildly calming.

Mildly. I was still waking up beside a complete stranger. Of course I was scared!

“S-stay!”

He’s too close. He’ll bash my head in with a rock! Or worse. There, something in his hand, I KNEW it!

I immediately started squirming out from under my covers as I grabbed whatever was closest to me.

You won’t get me; I’ll get you first!

I threw whatever I was holding. I hit him square in the face with it.

It made a quiet, almost imperceptibly soft poof sound.

“Argh! W-why!?”

“Wuh?”

I was already holding the next thing I could get my hands on. It felt like a pillow. I looked at him, then at my surroundings, then back at him. I was lying in a small pile of pillows. He was holding his arms defensively in front of his face.

“Who?” I asked.

“I-I’m not here to hurt ya’. Swear on the sun! Ya’ looked tired and cold, so I gave ya’ some padding. Sword’s there, too. Please put the pillow down.”

I blinked.

Right. I’m not where Glom was. I’m still in the temple, just a bit further in. Ow, I feel my everything hurting again.

I was beginning to calm down, the feeling of immediate danger making way for a milder undertone of unsafe-ness. I asked one more time: “You. Who?”

“H-harris is my name.”

So, he has a name. And he can talk. He doesn’t want to bash my face in. Probably. But he doesn’t glow. Why is that?

I realized as he kept staring at me that I was being impolite. I pointed at myself.

“Elia. Rye.”

“Y-yes. Elia Rye, that’s – uh ­­– a pretty name. I like it.” Oh, great, a charmer.

I decided to ignore it.

I’m in armor. He doesn’t mean harm. I’m safe. Safe.

“Just. Rye. Thank. You. Harris.” I felt embarrassed at not being able to say more, my throat was still uncomfortably dry and raspy.

Gah, I sound like a croaking frog. I hate frogs!

I could see him scratch the back of his head as he muttered something to himself.

“Wait a bit, I’ll getcha something for that throat of yours.”. He turned away, fumbling about in the darkness. I breathed out, getting myself into a sitting position leaning against the wall that felt more comfortable.

There really are a lot of pillows around. Where does he get them all from? And why does it look like he’s made a castle out of them?

He returned with a cup, offering it to me.

“Here, you’ll feel better after drinking this.” I took the cup and sniffed it.

It smells like… nothing at all. But can I trust him?

Harris evidently noticed my hesitation.

“I-it’s nothing bad. Just water. I can take a sip first if ya’ want.” I decided that I’d prefer that, offering him his drink back. He took a long, loud slurp before offering it to me again.

“See?”

I turned the cup around in my hands. So, it wasn’t poisoned. Maybe.

Well, let’s hope it doesn’t taste too bad. Bottoms up!

It tasted… like water.

It is water! But it tastes so refreshing, clear and cool.

Before I noticed, I had downed the entire cup and was licking my lips. My body was demanding more.

More!

MOAR!

Oh man, that felt so good. I’m still thirsty, still parched. I need another.

“Woah, easy there.” Harris chuckled, before taking my cup I offered him back. “If ya’ want more, there’s a small spring in the basement.”

A spring. In the basement? Yeah, sure, whatever. I’ll take it.

I nodded at him and stood up. I needed a big drink.

“Woah, uh, ok. I-If you’re going now, could ya’ fill this up, too?” He rummaged around for a bit, before returning with a metal bucket. It was almost empty of water.

I took it and headed off down a hall for the fountain of delicious, delectable water.

“It’s the other way, miss Rye.”

Ah. Yes. Of course it was. I turned around and quickly paced past him again.

“Thank. You.” This time, I meant it.

----------------------------------------

I found it quickly enough, after walking down a wide staircase that spiraled to the right. The air was moist and cool down here, pillars of wet stone standing between pools of water in wide stone bowls, connected by an array of trickling waterfalls.

Water.

Water.

WaterWaterWaterWater!

I staggered over to one of them, cupping my hand. Before I could take a sip from the puddle, I noticed a quiet splashing sound.

Right. There’s a source. A spring. Even fresher water.

I walked towards the noise, just to find an outcropping of natural rock, jutting out from the large-bricked stone walls. There, a trickle of water constantly poured out, gathering in a row of small pools and basins before spilling over and on to the floor.

I drank it all up greedily. It was healing to my body and soul, and most importantly, my throat, as I felt its coolness spread throughout my body and revitalize my everything.

Gods, is this what it feels like to dine like a king? The gods must have sent me a little miracle, a small reprieve through this. Maybe through Harris and the angel lady too. Definitely the angel lady. Bless the gods and bless the sun.

The sun, I remembered, was a sign of all things warm and good of the cycle of life, and a gift of the gods to us mortals. I smiled, reveling in the thought that I was important enough that they had sent me a miracle such as this, small as it may have seemed to them.

I sent a short, improvised prayer to whoever was willing to receive it. I thanked them for the water and asked them to hey, maybe not make me rot in hell for the things I did. Be a little lenient, let me go to the sun instead.

Then, I realized that here was no sun anymore. The toad had said the sun was extinguished. No sun meant no afterlife, not the good part anyway. I wiped those thoughts away with some fresh water to my face.

Thoughts for later.

I had to take off my gloves, as they were getting soaked and, like most people, I didn’t like the feeling of wet leather sticking to my skin. At least, I liked to think no one enjoyed that feeling. If they did, that’d be weird.

I splashed a handful of water on my face. It was probably still cacked in blood, from when I got my face smashed in with a rock. As I was rubbing my face, I noticed layers and layers of grime peel off and dissolve in my hands.

Please don’t be skin. Please don’t be skin.

I looked at my reflection in the water out of reflex and in the same moment, jerked back.

Do I really want to know? If I died, and this is the afterlife, I bet I look ugly. Like a corpse. Like a monster.

After some back and forth, I forced myself to look at what I was. I peered deep into one of the bowls and though my face was only slightly more than just a dark silhouette, the picture it painted was devastating.

Out of the bowl, the corpse of a young woman peered back at me. Her face was almost like a skull, drawn in cheeks and teeth you could see the impression of through the lips. Her eyes stared with horror, two frightened blue marbles in a hellscape of purple and red furrows, like dead and bruised flesh. The skin was wrinkly and her long hair that she knew was once blonde and brown hung like matted straw out of her helmet.

This is me. It’s me. Is it?

She touched a hand to my face, and it was.

This is me. My face, my body, my eyes, my hair, my, my, my…

I felt fingers brush across my skin. It was wrinkly and hard, but not as dry as before. Sure, I could still feel every bone and tooth from the outside, but my skin didn’t feel like dried up paper anymore, more like a pickled plum. A dried-up pickled plum, but hey, that was still not my worst fear. That would’ve probably been, I don’t know, growing horns and getting sharp teeth or something. As it went, this was only horrifying.

I took in my face a while longer. I almost cried again when I took off my helmet and bushels of hair came with it.

Looks like corpse-Rye is the new me. I don’t know how to fix this. But I need to. Desperately. But first, I need to be calm. Calm like the ocean. Do one thing at a time. This is a ‘later’ worry, not a ‘now’ worry.

I indeed became somewhat like an ocean, mostly by filling myself with cold and clean water. I did have some vague, vain hope that drinking a lot of water would help my skin become a bit smoother or something but in truth, there was just very little else I could do.

I got up, almost forgetting to fill the metal bucket. It was made of tin.

I’ll have to ask Harris if he knows anything about fixing acute death-face. I doubt it, but just talking to him will feel nice. Talking to anyone would. I need that and then, I’ll ask him aaaall the questions. And he’ll answer all of them, not like stupid Glom.

Gods, am I that starved for human interaction? I guess I am.

Anyways, I gotta go. I need to talk with him and find out what to do next. If he knows anything or anyone who’ll help me. If there’s a way out of this place and back into the sun.

My stomach grumbled and despite having just filled it to the brim with water, I could feel an aching emptiness.

I’m very hungry. Starving, in fact. Maybe he’ll share some food with me if I ask nicely?