A radiant light burst forth, enveloping Winterhell in waves of golden energy that shimmered and coiled around her like living threads. Aiden stumbled back, shielding his eyes from the blinding glow as Winterhell’s form began to shift, her figure suspended in the air as if weightless. The light pulsed in time to an unheard rhythm, each beat deepening the gold into a shimmering, almost liquid hue that wrapped around her, weaving itself into delicate patterns that danced across her skin.
Gradually, her hair began to lengthen, flowing out in glossy black waves that cascaded down her back, each strand catching and amplifying the light around her as if spun from starlight and shadow.
Her eyes, hidden beneath closed lids, fluttered open to reveal dark pools of night scattered with flecks of silver, like distant stars caught in an endless twilight. Her skin grew luminous, fair as moonlight, and seemed to glow with an inner radiance. As she raised her hands, ribbons of light spiralled from her fingertips, forming faintly glowing runes that hovered in the air around her like celestial constellations.
Aiden watched, transfixed, as a final burst of energy swirled around her, the air shimmering as her feet softly touched the ground.
When the light faded, Winterhell stood before him, transformed. A trace of wonder softened her gaze as she took in her new form, her dark eyes reflecting the blue light coming from the orb Aiden was holding. She flexed her hands, taking in what just happened, and when she looked back up at Aiden, there was a knowing smile on her lips.
Aiden needed a moment to process the transformed person standing in front of him. Her pale blue skin had been replaced with that of a perfect alabaster and in the darkness of the ruined room they were standing in, it almost appeared to be luminescent. Gone was the disproportionately long neck and the uncomfortably long fingers. Her metallic black hair was now that of a perfect midnight, cascading down her back. Her ears, pointed like those of the ancient elves, added a refined sharpness to her features.
“This is the coolest thing that I have ever seen,” she said in a whisper, doing her best to keep a dignified expression. “Hold on a second,” she continued, as three dots appeared above her head, indicating that she was reading a system message.
Her eyes went wide, as she took in the new information. The dots above her head disappeared, and in a voice filled with excited disbelief, she said, “you are not going to believe this.”
As she spoke, Aiden received a system prompt, informing him that a party member was sharing information with him. He opened the message with a thought, to find out what it was she wanted him to see so badly.
Your race has been lost. All racial abilities have been lost.
New Race obtained!
Race: Celestial
Description: Celestials are beings of radiant heritage, believed to be the ancestors of the Elves. Marked by fair skin and dark eyes, they embody both wisdom and otherworldly power, wielding light and elemental magic with divine grace.
"From the heavens, they descended—guardians of balance, wielders of starfire."
New Racial Ability obtained!
Ability: Celestial Ember
* Spell (cantrip, elemental)
* Base cost: Very low mana
* Level: 1, Rare
* Cooldown: None
* Effect: Conjure an ember of celestial energy dealing a small amount of fire damage, inflicting the burning condition for a short period of time.
* Effect (Optional): By increasing the base cost to low mana, the spell deals moderate fire damage to a single target and a small amount of fire damage to all nearby targets within a small area, inflicting the burning condition on each affected target for a short duration.
"It’s just a little ember… until it decides to spread its fiery wings."
“Talk about winning the lottery,” Aiden said, taking it all in. “Plus Celestials have an affinity for spellcasting. It looks like congratulations are in order,” he said with a bright smile.
On that note, Winterhell couldn't contain her excitement any longer and gave out a long delighted squeal.
“Aiden, she said, her voice alive with excitement, “it’s your turn now. Use that blue orb you found.
Aiden glanced down at the glowing orb in his hand, its light a cool, almost hesitant blue in contrast to the rich gold that had enveloped Winterhell. He swallowed, his fingers drumming on the orb’s surface.”Let's not be hasty now,” he said nervously. “While your decision was pretty impulsive, the fact that the orb you found was legendary made it a fairly safe bet for you to get something great.” He held up his orb, “this one, is only uncommon. Plus I don’t think I’ve ever been threatened by flavour text before.”
“You’re being paranoid,” Winterhell said, “Plus, I don’t think that anybody in the history of the world has ever been threatened by flavour text before.”
“Well at least things can't get any worse…. Or can they?” Aiden murmured, his voice low and foreboding.
“Alright, I understand why you might feel slightly threatened,” Winterhell replied, “but I really don’t understand why you’re being so hesitant.”
“I just don’t want to end up with a really weird race that I don’t know what to do with,” he said.
“Aiden, you already have a really weird race,” Winterhell said with a sigh. “Besides, what’s the alternative? Waiting for another high rarity orb that may or may not come around? We don’t even know anything about drop rates for these things. What if we only find common ones? What if you never find anything else at all? What if your guess that his event runs with a permanent death rule turns out to be right, and you kick the bucket because you waited too long to make a decision, and you end up having to confront whatever will come for the portal, out of the portal, or both and aren’t prepared to deal with it?”
Aiden let Winterhell’s words sink in for a couple of moments before making up his mind.
“If this goes south, it’s all your fault,” he finally said.
“Oh relax,” she quipped, “you’ll thank me later. Now stop stalling, and get on with it.”
After a couple of deep breaths, his face took on a determined expression. He held up the orb high above his head with both hands.“Huzzah magic powers!” he finally shouted and activated the orb.
Blue light enveloped him, filling the room with an ethereal glow. He felt a warmth radiate through his body, weaving magic into his very bones. His skin took on a warm, earthy tone with a faint shimmer, and his hair darkened to a deep brown with mossy undertones, wild waves framing his face.
His ears lengthened to graceful points,and to his shock and surprise, a tingling above his temples signalled the emergence of spiralled horns.
Winterhell’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she watched. “You’re definitely not an alien-blob person anymore, that’s for sure.” She chuckled, tilting her head to take in his appearance. “You look… well, you look like something out of a fairy tale.”
Your race has been lost. All racial abilities have been lost.
New Race obtained!
Race: Feykin
Description: With partial Fey ancestry, Feykin inherit a blend of human and fey traits, marked by physical features that reveal their mystical heritage. Naturally attuned to wild magic, they are known for their mischievous curiosity, blending mortal pragmatism with Fey whimsy.
"Part Fey, part mortal, all trouble. Approach with caution—or a good sense of humour."
New Racial Ability obtained!
Ability: Sonic Blink
* Spell (cantrip, dimensional)
* Base cost: Low mana
* Level: 1, Uncommon
* Cooldown: None
* Effect: Harness the power of sound to instantaneously teleport a small distance in any direction, creating a brief rift in space.
"For when running away would take too long… and look far less cool."
Aiden took his time to carefully read his new race and ability.
“This is actually not bad,” he finally said. “A movement ability, that's super useful.”
“That's your first thought?” Winterhell exclaimed.
“Well yeah, there are a couple of key abilities every character needs in order to be well rounded and not die due to a lack of flexibility,” Aiden said matter-of-factly. “Some key abilities many rookie players forget about are movement abilities and auras because they…”
“You've just been turned into an adorable half-human, half-fairy person by using a magical orb in an ancient ruined city and your first thought, your first thought is that your ability is relevant in a competitive meta?” Winterhell practically shouted, interrupting Aiden who gave her an affronted look.
“You don't get to tell me what to do and how to do it,” he said with a surprisingly firm tone. “Just one minute ago, you were upset that I wasn't as excited about rolling the dice with our fates as you were. Now that I am excited, you're upset because I'm not excited in the right way.”
“Aiden I'm sorry…” Winterhell said, her cheeks blushing.
“Look,” said Aiden with a deep breath, his shoulders slaking as he released some of the inner tension that had built up during his monologue, “We're allowed to get excited about different things. Your race is fantastic and I can't wait to find out what class you end up with. I'm also super curious what sort of class and levelling system the High Council has come up with for this event.”
“Exploring the ruins, discovering magic, accepting quests that will likely get us killed, you can sign me up for it all,” he continued, “but there are real opportunities for mid-rankers like me in these sorts of events. To compete with top-tier gamers in ways that are otherwise very rare. We don’t even know what sort of prizes we can hope for for doing well, but I’m not going to apologise for getting excited over getting an ability that just might be one of the tools I need to succeed. ROTA events can truly be spectacular at times, and I’m thrilled to be a part of it all, but I’m not here just for fun.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Winterhell’s face fell as Aiden finished talking, her smile wavering. She blinked, and he noticed the brightness in her eyes shift, her gaze growing distant.
“Aiden…” she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper, “do you think I’m just… here to have fun?”
Aiden frowned, caught off guard. “Well… uhm. Isn’t that what you said? You wanted to be a part of the excitement and all that.”
She hesitated, glancing down. “That’s… well I suppose that's only half true. You wouldn’t tell by looking at me, but I’ve been trying to get into the professional ROTA scene for some time now, and this event seemed like the perfect opportunity for it. I’ve been told that there are only two real ways to make it there: either you’re insanely good or… you’re entertaining enough for people to care about you even if you’re not the best.”
Aiden’s confusion softened, and he looked at her more closely, realising how hard she’d been trying to keep up with him from the very beginning. “I didn’t mean…”
She cut him off, her voice tightening. “I’m just saying… maybe I’m not as good as I would like to be, okay? I mean, you seem like the sort of person who's got everything sorted out…and I’m just—”
Her voice broke, and she turned away, a tear slipping down her cheek.
“Winterhell, listen,” he said, his tone gentler now. “First off, whoever gave you that advice, ignore them and don’t pay any attention to what they say, because at best, that was a gross oversimplification of a very complicated topic. Believe me, ROTA, and life for that matter isn’t strictly black and white.”
“What do you mean?” Winterhell said, wiping a tear off her cheek.
“Well, it’s not like all of humanity has been sorted into two camps, those who know what they want to do, have all the right opportunities, plans, funding and connections to get it done, and then on the other side those who have none of those things and have to deal with being miserable from dusk ‘till dawn. It’s really more a broad spectrum of various shades of grey with all sorts of people with their own backgrounds, ambitions, hopes and dreams.”
He was trying his best to sound reassuring, but based on Winterhell’s facial expression, he wasn’t sure if he was making things better or worse.
“What I said about this event being a great opportunity doesn’t only apply for me and other competitive gamers,” he continued, hoping he’d find his way to a point that would help remedy this situation. “I’m sure that there will be loads of chances for you and others to make a name for yourselves, one way or another.”
She swallowed, blinking back the tears. “Maybe that’s true for you. Sometimes. I just feel like I’m just another face in the crowd struggling to fit in. And I’m tired of these doubts in the dark corners of my mind pushing me down… like I don’t measure up.”
He opened his mouth to respond, reaching out a hand, but before he could say anything, a bone-chilling cold swept through the room, silencing them both. Aiden froze, the hair on his arms standing on end as a strange quiet settled over the ruined villa. He glanced around, his eyes narrowing, each dark corner and every shadow looming and pressing in around him, thick with a malevolent intent. The air grew dense, Aiden had the sudden impression that they were no longer alone, like unseen eyes were peering at him from the darkness, waiting.
“Can you feel that?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Winterhell’s gaze shifted around them, her face tense and alert. “Yeah… and I don’t like it. I think… I think we may have been louder than we should have been.”
A faint rustle reached his ears, and Aiden’s hand instinctively tightened on his club, wishing he had something more impactful, or at least useful. From the shadows, Aiden thought he could see vague, distorted shapes emerging out of thin air, blending seamlessly with the darkness before moving forward in slow, unsettling movements.
“We need to get out of here,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on the shifting shadows. “Now.”
Winterhell nodded, her hand gripping Aiden’s arm as they slowly backed toward the doorway. The air grew thick with a sour, metallic scent that stung the back of his throat, and a faint, shuffling sound echoed from somewhere deeper within the villa—a dragging noise that seemed to come from all directions at once, though they couldn’t see anything in the darkness.
They turned, moving as quickly and quietly as possible toward the stairway. Every step echoed ominously, their own footfalls sounding too loud, too obvious. Somewhere behind them, the shuffling grew louder, followed by a low, whispering hiss.
Winterhell let out a small gasp, glancing over her shoulder even as she stumbled forward. In a voice filled with terror she spoke, “It’s… it’s like it’s coming from right behind us.”
A soft, scratching sound scraped against the wall beside them, then vanished as they hurried past. “Aiden… I can feel something breathing. It’s like… like something's right there, but—”
Before she could finish, an unexpected crash echoed from the darkness behind them, like something heavy and jagged slamming against the walls. Winterhell let out a piercing shriek, stumbling as they reached the top of the main stairs that lead down into the grand entrance hall. The sound of her voice was met by a chorus of hisses that filled the air, a cacophony of rasping breaths and chittering sounds, as if the shadows themselves had come alive.
“Run!” Aiden shouted, gripping her clammy and shaking hand as they dashed down the stairs, their footfalls echoing wildly against the cold stone.
As they reached the bottom of the staircase, Aiden spoke out, “Winterhell, your spell! Now would be a great time to try it out!” his voice, tight with barely controlled fear.
Winterhell’s voice shook as she forced out the words, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “By… by the light of creation, let fire be born!” She raised a trembling hand, her fingers blazing as she conjured a flickering ember that went hurling into the darkness. A brief flare of light illuminated the space, revealing dark twisted forms hunched in the shadows, slinking back just beyond reach.
The sight sent a jolt of fear through her, and she cast again, her voice louder, frantic. “By the light of creation, let fire be born!” Another burst of flame tore through the dark, throwing dancing shadows along the walls, illuminating brief, distorted glimpses of limbs that stretched and bent at unnatural angles, hollow faces that seemed to leer and twist before vanishing again into the gloom.
“Keep going!” Aiden yelled, pulling her forward as they raced through the entrance hall, the hisses and scraping sounds growing louder, closer, from every side.
“By the light of creation, let fire be born!” she cried, casting her spell again and again, each burst of light momentarily pushing back the encroaching darkness.
They reached the heavy main doors, throwing all their weight against them, forcing them open, and burst out into the courtyard.
They staggered a few steps forward, panting, before turning back to the villa. Winterhell took a shaky breath, her hand still glowing faintly from the spell, her eyes wide with lingering terror.
“Did… did you see those…those things?” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.
Aiden nodded, his jaw tight. He gripped his wooden club, keeping his gaze fixed on the front doors. “Let’s hope that those…things stay inside…“
Just as he spoke, multiple dark shapes burst out from inside the villa, the double doors shattering into splinters as the creatures lunged forward into landing with underworldly grace in the courtyard before them.
Three of them stood there, twisted and hideous. Each creature had a spider-like lower body with eight long, spindly legs that bent at unnatural angles, moving with an eerie, skittering grace. Rising from this grotesque base was a tall, humanoid upper body with limbs stretched far too long, bending at impossible angles. Their faces were skeletal and hollow, devoid of mouths, and their eyes were nothing but deep, dark sockets. Their skin was slick and shadowed. To Winterhell, they looked like nightmares made flesh.
“You just had to open your big mouth didn’t you,” she said drily, catching Aiden off guard with her dark humour. “What… what do we do now?”
“Let them come,” Aiden said, mirroring Winterhells grim tone. “We fight,” he said, taking in the sight that presented itself before him.
He looked at the hideous monsters he and Winterhell were currently facing, he couldn't see the monsters’ names, descriptions or levels anywhere. There was no telling just how much stronger those things were.
As if the creatures had a sense for the dramatic, they stood there menacingly, stones cracking under the weight of their serrated legs, as they shifted their weight back and forth.
Aiden's thoughts raced, as he considered their current options. To his disappointment, the list was very short.
“Are you sure about this?” Winterhell asked nervously, “it would make me feel a lot better, if you had a plan. Ideally one that's not terrible.”
“Plan might not be the right word,” Aiden said hesitantly, but there's only really one logical option.”
“Yeah? Would you care to enlighten me?”
“Stand our ground and fight,” Aiden said. “It's the only option where we have any chance at all to walk away from this fight alive.”
“You're right,” Winterhell said. “Plan really isn't the right word. What do you need me to do?”
“I'll try to get their attention, while you light them up. Try to focus all your spells on one target until we drop it.”
“If we survive this, we need to find someone who's not awful at making plans,” Winterhell said, only to see that Aiden wasn't listening.
He was staring at the creatures, his heart pounding, barely containing the horror he felt just being near those miscreants.
Aiden took a step forward, gripping his wooden club,as he eyed the creatures. With a smirk, he turned back to face Winterhell and said, “Give 'em Hell.”
He then faced the three manifestations of all that in unholy and let out a scream that reverberated through the courtyard, a raw, defiant cry that broke through his fear. His voice echoed against the broken stone walls, carrying a challenge that left no room for retreat.
The creatures tensed, their hollow eyes locking onto him, spindly legs shifting as they prepared to strike, answering his scream with an unnatural, bone-chilling hiss that seemed to vibrate through the very air around them.
As the monstrosities skittered forward, Aiden tightened his grip, his knuckles white around the handle of his club. He stood his ground, defiance blazing in his eyes.
“Let’s make it hurt,” he muttered, just as the creatures lunged.
And then, the fight began.