Astraea Kaion.

It was my name, I knew. It evoked a certain feeling of familiarity. The rest meant next to nothing to me. The only other thing that seemed to have any significance on the glowing page superimposed on my vision was the word beside my name, Revenant.

That was familiar in a way to me as well, but it was not the same as my name. The feeling I got by reading that word was hard to make sense of. I just knew it meant nothing good.

I shouldn’t stay here, I suddenly thought.

That creature–the ghoul–had ambushed me on my search with no warning. There was nothing to say that something else wouldn’t try the same. I had to find the moon, but before then, it seemed I had to find somewhere safe to get my bearings.

A predator’s den, even one belonging to something I’d recently killed, was not good enough for that purpose. The ghoul died easily as soon as I understood what was going on, and that only meant it was nowhere near the strongest thing around. Hiding here in the dark would not bring me safety.

I left the cave.

Outside, the dark of night still pervaded the world. The stars shone faintly, the water flowing from the cave streamed down the slope, and the feeling of wrongness once again made itself known. Nothing had changed since the ghoul dragged me here.

Based on the appearance of the mountains around me, I might have been lower on the slope than the ravine, but I couldn’t really tell how much. That didn’t really matter though, as knowing where I am was pointless when I had no idea where to go. Where could I possibly find safety?

Before, I’d wanted to follow the river to find people. Perhaps I could find safety with them?

I started down the slope, and once I was back at the river, I continued following its bank.

The night went on as I travelled. There really wasn’t any way to judge the passing of time, so I do not know how much passed before I found a small, rundown shack a little ways from the opposite bank. The building looked incredibly old and decrepit, with wooden planks missing in various places and the signs of nature fighting to take back its place.

It was very clear to me that no one had visited the shack in a long time, even as I stood some distance away observing it. But it was the first sign I had that people had once been near, so I felt obligated to check it out.

I just had to find some way of crossing the river.

The water flowed past me at a quick pace, and the distance from one bank to another was…discouraging. Possibly too far. I’d be swept away downstream if I tried swimming across right here, but if I retraced my steps a bit and let the current take me near the shack as I crossed the river, that would solve the issue well enough.

So that is what I did. I’d passed by a point earlier where the river wasn’t quite so quick and it collected in a pool before moving on. That seemed a better place than most to enter the water, so as soon as I found it once again, I wasted no time in getting in.

It was cold, of course, but not enough for it to matter to me. No colder than the night, in my opinion. I acknowledge it and then let the observation go.

The pool was deep enough that my feet could no longer touch the ground beneath the surface after a few steps, and I had to tread water from there. Seemingly as a consequence of that depth, however, the river’s current truly lazed in the pool. I found I could swim straight across without needing to fight it.

This was easier than I had expected, and that is when I felt a light tug on my left foot.

It was all the warning I got before something latched onto me and started dragging me further into the depths. It pulled me down such that the strength of my arms could not keep my head above the surface–on instinct alone, I sucked in a lungful of air before going under.

I went down, and the pull on my leg redoubled. As soon as my eyes adjusted to the new environment, I directed them toward whatever had caught me, and I was only mildly surprised to find a bloated white hand similar to my own, or the ghoul’s, firmly grasping my ankle. It was large, I could see. Nearly twice the size of my own.

The same went for the rest of the creature. Before the paltry light of the stars could completely fade, I beheld its ghastly appearance in full. The hand gave way to an arm and a body that was just as large and white and bloated. Its face appeared deformed and as if it were missing chunks in various locations–it was missing eyes in its sockets entirely.

And the creature’s mouth was the most horrific of all. Whatever had made it the way it was–I knew deep down that its form could not be completely natural–had enlarged its maw beyond the correct proportions for the rest of its body and to the point that it could probably swallow my torso whole. It shattered the illusion that the monster could have been a person into a thousand tiny pieces, and I only felt contempt for this unnatural thing.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Then the light faded, and I continued to sink. Instead of renewing my previous struggle, I followed the pull down. I bent to get closer to my assailant until I reversed the orientation of my upper body. When its hand was within reach of my own, I switched our roles and latched onto it. Finally, the monster reacted to my movements.

I could only tell from the pressure the water exerted on my body and the movements of the monster’s arm, but I knew when it brought me closer to that disgusting maw. It meant to take a bite out of me.

It will find that I don’t go down that easily.

Once I felt something brush against my shoulder, I cast my arms out and caught the monster’s soft head. It was strong, but once I had that little amount of leverage, its attempt to pull me into its mouth stopped cold. For a moment, at least.

My arms started to sink into its head. The soft flesh gave way and I moved closer to its jaws. It was unexpected, and the sensation revolted me. It also proved how weak the monster truly was.

I ripped my arms out and took two chunks of its head with them, and a ghastly moan vibrated through the water. My arms went back in, taking two more chunks, then again. I started tearing this thing that thought it could stop me apart, and I heard its cries. Its other arm came up to fend me off and I took from it its wrist.

I filled the water with bloated chunks from the monster–stripped it down to its bones. Then all at once, we stopped sinking. The creature’s death was marked by one last plaintive moan before it gave way to a cheerful ding.

[*ding You have slain [Wight - level 111]!]

Less than the ghoul.

I brushed away the wight’s clinging remnants, then turned back to the surface.

Altogether, this latest encounter could only have taken a handful of minutes, so when my head exited the water, I did not gasp. It was simply enough to reorient myself to the surroundings, and a moment later I was on the opposite shore from where I started.

I followed the current down to the decrepit shack as the open air slowly dried my body–it was just as I’d seen from the opposite bank. If it had ever been painted, all signs of such had vanished into the elements long ago. I doubted it, however. It didn’t strike me as likely that a small building like this one would receive such embellishment.

I paused.

How would I know anything about paint?

I…I could tell now, that I was missing time. A lot of it. I didn’t come to be in that ravine out of nowhere. I existed before–I had a name, and I knew that names were given by others. But I had no recollection of anything before that ravine besides a few confusing impressions.

My past had been stolen from me. It was another thing I was missing, but rather strangely, I didn’t think it was what I was searching for. It was not the moon–or whatever my addled mind had confused for the moon.

I’ll find you, and I’ll find myself too. But for now, I need to keep moving.

Whatever it was that I needed to find, uncovering my past could probably give me more direction. But for now, I couldn’t take action on any of that. The world was dark and full of monsters that would see me as prey. I needed shelter, and though the shack wasn’t the most inconspicuous place to rest, it was better than nothing.

I pushed aside the rotten old door and entered the building.

I had to reassess my thoughts on the shack immediately. It had been much longer since anyone had visited it than I thought. Old webs choked with dust obstructed the initial entryway, and beyond that, much of the building’s single room was draped in a similar manner. I took a minute to clear what I could, just so that I might get a better look around.

The floor had fallen in on itself at some point as the wood rotted away, so the actual surface I walked on was an inch or two below what it was meant to be. There were signs that an animal or something had used the place as its den, but from the state of things, it had also abandoned the place for better horizons long ago.

What remained of the room was a musty pile that might have once been a bed, a couple boxes of some sort of tools, and a single unattached closet that had remarkably survived the ages in somewhat good condition, lying overturned on its side.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I approached the closet.

Its single door was secured with a flimsy rusted chain that had not seen the same preservation as the rest of it–it broke in my hands easily enough. I grabbed hold of the door and wrenched it out of its frame so it could fall down and open, then I beheld the closet’s meager contents.

Predictably, there was a small pile of clothes, and there was even an old pair of boots and what I recognized as a fishing rod. None of that held my attention for more than a second however, as I was instantly focussed on the long pole that fell out as the door opened. It took up the entire length–or rather, height–of the closet with its rough metal shaft, and it was topped with a dull blade on one end and a larger one just below it that extended out a ways. A halberd, I believe it was called.

Why would this be left behind?

I’d expect someone leaving this place to take their weapon with them. Well, that applied to the boots and clothes too. No sane person could abandon something they could easily carry and make use of, so…maybe I had it wrong. What if they never left?

My thoughts turned back to the wight I’d just killed a short distance away.

I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but I only considered it for a little longer. Ultimately, none of it was important. I already knew the area outside was dangerous, so those thoughts wouldn’t impact my actions at all. For now, I got back on my feet and raised the halberd with me.

I’d inevitably need to go out there again and continue with my search. In the meantime, I would stay productive and familiarize myself with my new weapon. The next monster that tried to jump me was going to have a really bad time.