Chapter 2: Mistborn

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Robin dreamt of a hill marred by scorch marks and shattered stone. The sands of time had allowed plant growth to overtake the remnants of whatever building had once stood atop the steep hill. Here and there, light glinted off metal armor lodged underneath the rubble, the skeletons of the armors’ wielders still inside.

Suddenly, the sun fell to the horizon, and the moon rose. The plants retreated into the soil as the cycle of the sun and moon sped up continuously. Years passed by in seconds. The trees became shorter; Nightmare Creatures walked backwards into the ruins and then limped backwards out. Robin realized she was seeing the flow of time in reverse.

Flames began to engulf the stones and grass. The ruins of whatever building had long ago stood suddenly rebuilt itself as the flames suddenly vanished, and Robin found herself staring at a magnificent fortress, fires burning on tiki torches along the walls as soldiers lazily kept watch on the battlements.

Time slowed, then resumed its normal pace.

[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your First Trial…]

Blinking, Robin found herself in a patch of tall grass at the treeline, lying prone and facing towards the fortress. The cool night air had led to condensed dew on the ground to dampen her clothes, and her hair had begun to curl from the moisture.

Remembering Jet’s advice, she formed a mental command to see her Aspect. A panel of translucent shimmering runes appeared in front of her eyes. Although foreign, she was still somehow able to understand them.

Name: Robin Ertra

True Name: —

Rank: Aspirant

Soul Core: Dormant

Memories: —

Echoes: —

Attributes: [Thief] [Tenacious]

Aspect: [Mistborn]

Aspect Description: [Born of mist, sustained by latent moisture in the air. The Mistborn, blessed and cursed by the Storm God, both need and abhor water.]

She scanned her surroundings. To her left and right, a few young men and women, some still teenagers, were lying prone with her. Ahead, the hill rose, the fortress’ torches a stark contrast to the dim light of the stars against the night sky. Looking down, she was horrified to see that her arm was pocked by tiny indentations, as if half-spheres had been smoothly taken out of her flesh. In real time, she watched as the flesh slowly reformed.

She brushed her forearm against a condensed water droplet to test a hypothesis forming in her mind; as she expected, her body was absorbed into the water. A small divot in her flesh had been removed. She felt no pain when it happened, and, not long after, the flesh began to reappear.

‘Interesting.’

Her body in this Nightmare was smaller, and younger. If she had to guess, Robin would put it at just about 11 years old. She was thin and wiry, to an unhealthy degree.

As she was ruminating, a heavy foot pinned her arm to the ground. A man who looked to be in his 40s, bits of grey stubble dotting his hollow cheeks, had stepped on her. The man had piercing, yellow eyes, which Robin got far too good a look at as he bent down to her face.

“Mist rat. You fuck up this mission, and everyone here dies in there with you. Your family back home are on the chopping block too. Not that we’d need to kill them. Because those Imperial bastards will rape and pillage every goddamned town on the border if we don’t take a hold of this fortress. Understood?”

Robin stared up at the man, her eyes knitted in confusion as she tried to piece together what the situation was. His yellow eyes seemed to flash with light as he clenched his jaw.

“You took too long.” The man took out a flask and poured water on Robins pinned shoulder. The flesh disappeared with the water as if it had never existed, as the remainder of her arm flopped to the ground. “Stop giving me that confused face. Do you understand?” Robin didn't answer immediately; she was both overwhelmed by the current situation and focused on the fact that the exposed flesh of her arm didn't bleed. Neither was there pain.

The people around her shifted uncomfortably.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Gods, she hated being powerless like this. She gritted her teeth and asked in the most polite tone she could muster, “Could you explain what I’m supposed to do?”

He sighed with dramatic flair before shifting his foot onto her back. “What you’ve always done, and what landed you here with the resistance. You’re going to steal. You’ll climb in through the sewage and sneak around and steal whatever the hell thing that bastard Awakened Malo has that lets them control the giant ape creature, while everyone here fights for their lives so you won’t get killed immediately. You’ll come back and hand it to me and I’ll capture the fortress with it. Like we dis-cussed-be-fore-you-stupid-shit. Understood?”

“…Yes.”

Oh, she hated this man already.

“Good. Now reattach your arm. I need you in top shape before tomorrow night. Everyone, head back to base. We’ve scouted nothing new.”

With that, he released his foot off her back and moved with astonishing silence through the underbrush. His every move screamed that this man was a professional in combat and survival.

Slowly and silently, everyone shuffled backwards on their elbows until they were well within the tree line before standing. Robin tried doing the same, but doing so with one arm that was also holding another arm in place was difficult, to say the least. No one offered her help. It seemed like she destined to be the black sheep in two worlds. Eventually, she made it. The others were already walking far ahead.

‘Damn, why did I have to get a kids body?’

/////

By the time Robin had made it back to the base, people were already beginning to eat around a fire. Her progress had been impeded by the fact she had to hold her arm against her shoulder with great force in order to keep it still as it reconnected. It was she figured she had to do, at least, given what the man with the yellow eyes had told her and the regeneration abilities she had displayed so far.

She had an idea of how she had such incredible regeneration powers; the description of her Aspect said “sustained by latent moisture in the air.” The area they were in was incredibly humid, to the point that dew condensed on the grass even before dawn. She had not felt a single desire of thirst or hunger, either. The Mistborn, whoever they were, had great power in humid climates.

As she approached the fire, cradling her still reconnecting arm, everyone near her stopped talking. They shared glances at each other, but no one spoke. She could imagine what was going through their heads.

‘This kid is going to decide my fate tomorrow.’

She had to shake the thoughts from her head. These people weren’t real. They were created by the Nightmare Spell for her trial. It only mattered if she survived.

“Hey kid. Come here.”

She looked up to find a heavily tattooed woman beckoning to her.

“Don’t be shy. I’m going to help you, both cause I feel bad for how the boss treats you, and because I don’t want to die tomorrow.”

Robin walked towards the woman, wary of all the adults and their unfriendly stares. She was liable to be dispatched in “an accident” with how they were looking at her.

“Put your hand out.”

“Why?”

“I said I’m trying to help you. Now do it.”

Reluctantly, she put her free hand out. Ouch. Her arm still hadn't finished reconnecting, it seemed. The sudden lack of support pulled on the tissue a little too hard.

The woman pulled out a dagger. Robin flinched, her feet already shuffling backwards, but the woman grabbed her arm. Instead of stabbing her like Robin thought she would, she simply put the dagger in her hand.

“Relax. This is kind of like a good luck charm for me. The blade's not much good, but it’s better than being barehanded.”

As the woman spoke, the voice of the Spell spoke in her mind simultaneously:

[You have received a Memory: Back Alley Dagger]

She immediately inspected its runes.

Memory: [Back Alley Dagger]

Memory Rank: Dormant

Memory Tier: I

Memory Type: Weapon

Memory Description:: [The dagger of the roaches of society. No matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to get rid of them.]

“Makes you harder to kill, I think. I’ve slipped through some pretty hairy situations with it in hand.”

Robin stood, processing what had just happened. She couldn’t help but break out into a smile. A Memory. A Memory! A weapon, no less. She now had a chance of defending herself. It was a small, crude dagger, no more than 11 total cm in length, with rope holding the scratched blade in place, but it was a weapon nonetheless. She had never heard of physical objects becoming Memories through touch, but the Spell worked in mysterious ways, and she would not question her blessings.

“Thank you so much!”

“Don’t get it mistaken. I’m saving my own skin here, too. Hopefully. Make good use of it, and we'll both benefit.”

Robin looked around, hopeful that anyone else would gift her a Memory. No one met her gaze, however. She gave up on that after a few seconds and resumed her conversation.

“What’s your name? Uh, miss.” Robin added, remembering her apparent age.

“I’ll tell you if we survive the raid tomorrow. You tell me yours then, too.”