The Dreams of a Lonely Daughter

The final floor of the lost labyrinth was a simple, dome-shaped arena. Lanterns of ethereal green light lined the walls but there was not nearly enough to cast satisfactory luminosity, only so much to see five or so metres ahead. Murky black water leaked from the upper floors through the ceilings and created puddles of disgusting stagnant water. The almost 500 hundred year old air slowly swirled around the edges of the place kicking up whatever dust and debris it could. Etched into the centre of the arena was the insignia of a long-forgotten deity--lost to time and memory: a four-sided white star with a ring around it.

There was no life here--no hope--only misery.

An 8 year old girl writhed painfully across the dusty floor as a torrent of blood gushed out of her wound. ‘Reyleigh Adele Silverarm’. She screamed a most horrific cry filled with both the sense of terrible pain and heart-wrenching loss; the entirety of her left arm had been outright destroyed moments prior. Tears, blood, and panic coursed through her entire being. Closer and closer, slowly she crawled through the darkness in an attempt to escape through the only door connected to this place. “No…! No… please! Let me go!” she begged and cried as she suffered through the agony.

Unfortunately, before she could even make it a few centimetres across the floor, a sadistic creature stepped on her head to prevent further movement. This heinous entity was the final boss of this labyrinth: the one known as the ‘Ceht’. A tall therianthropic giant of wolven origin. Standing almost two-and-a-half metres tall, dark black fur covered his entire body with two dreadful sanguine eyes glimmering through the darkness of the boss room. Clad in a set of ancient Greek-esque armour he loomed tyrannically over the small, dying child, and like a dog his tail swayed side to side in perverted exhilaration. He smirked a most malicious grin and leaned his head closer to the crying child and asked, “now just where do you think you’re going?” With a loud, metallic ‘clang’ he moved his great silvery spear over and stabbed the tip of it into the floor near her head to emphasise a point.

Sinister echoes of his laughter reverberated through the empty room. The girl squirmed and struggled beneath the immense weight of his metallic greaves as the sharp heels dug into her back. “You’re the first piece of entertainment I’ve had in 500 years. Do you really believe I’d let you go that easily?” The werewolf shook his head and taunted her some more, “thanks to you the seals on this wretched prison have finally broken. From the deepest pits of my black heart I thank you. As a reward I’ll make sure you’re not alone when you cross for the other side; your friends and family, your neighbours and elders, I’ll be sure to kill them all!”

“Why… why?!” the girl--Reyleigh--cried as she continued her futile escape attempts as the humanoid wolf pinned her to the cold stoney floor. “I just… I just want to leave!” she pleaded in between violent coughs of blood. Numbness settled in and she could no longer feel the pain of having her arm ripped off. Rather, the massive loss of blood had started to make her body grow colder and rigid.

Ceht began to cackle ominously at her question. “Keh… kehahaha! You’re right; I couldn’t agree more! For all this time that’s exactly what I wanted as well: just to leave! However, I wasn’t allowed to. I was bound by my duty as the gaoler to a false god,” he angrily gnashed his teeth just remembering the eternity of isolation he had faced in this hellish darkness. Yet, now that the door had been opened by this child there was a faint sense of relief. He let out a long sigh as he continued his story, “you know, there was a time when even I was just another proud soldier ready to do my part. I volunteered for this position believing my sacrifice will be remembered for all eternity… but to hell with that now! I realized only after the first ten years that people weren’t made to endure this kind of loneliness! I spent the next 490 years agonizing over my own stupidity. I screamed and screamed for years at a time for someone to let me out, but the infernal doors would never open because of those damned seals! All the other therianthropes in this accursed place are just spectres with no will of their own; mere puppets!” His voice raised with anger enough to cause tremors. Only the gentle draft of the breeze coming from beyond the doors quelled his fury.

As his temper was calmed he once more gazed down at the small girl who was responsible for his freedom. Gratitude, lust, exhilaration, and disgust; he felt a rush of emotions pass by. He had his fun and now it was time to end it all and leave for the surface. He couldn’t wait to see how the world had changed in his absence--what adventures had awaited him. He raised his weapon: the God-slaying spear and poised himself.

Reyleigh strangely felt no danger at this point. Heck, she felt nothing at all as her body was slowly starting to die and her mind became numb to this fact. She was tired of it all. Tired of bleeding. Tired of crying. Tired of… struggling.

“[Is this how it’s going to end? Quietly in the darkness with no one to remember you?]” a strange voice spoke out to her. Tilting her head forward she met the visage of a young woman with fiery red hair in a pure white dress. Ghostly in form as if she wasn’t even there.

Reyleigh extended her remaining arm forward and uttered the ethereal woman’s name, “Crinoline… help…”

“[Help? You know I can’t help you. I’m not even real--just a figment of your imagination. So if you want to be saved then you’ll have to do it yourself. Even if you think you’re no match for this brute you still have to try if you want to live.]” The woman’s form flickered like candlelight.

Ceht stopped his movements momentarily to figure out what the girl was doing as she called out to someone that wasn’t there. Was it merely the crazed ramblings of a dying child? Or was there really something… In his own madness from the centuries of isolation he was willing to entertain the idea of hallucinations being real. He had no shortages of conversations with imaginary beings to stave off his insanity.

“I can’t… move… help…”

“[If you can’t move you’ll just die like this. Is that fine? As painful as it is now, dying is even more horrible. After all, you should know that best since you’ve already died once before. So, if you simply want everything to end then just lay there and meet your second and final demise. But… if you want to live then stand.]”

“I want to… live…”

The ghostly woman smiled back at her. “[Of course you do. You already know what it is you have to do, right?]” With those final words the spectral figure disappeared from Reyleigh’s sight.

“Are you done praying to whatever god you were hallucinating?” Ceht asked in a sarcastic tone. “Then, this is finally it, you ready?” he asked as he resumed his previously halted action. The spear that had taken her left arm will now take her life.

“Urk… No!” the girl yelled out past the pain. With tears in her eyes she grit through it all and threw off Ceht’s foot. “I’m going back home… I want to see my dad…” The emotions suppressed deep within the girl burst out of her body in the form of strange magical energy. Her entire being began to shine and pierced through the darkness of the arena in a pale celestial pink glare. At that moment, strange luminous words appeared before her eyes.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

As the light dissipated the arena was quickly flooded by a tranquil, etheric water. Subtly glowing in a pale blue, the water had come up only to Ceht’s ankles but the sudden influx of it made him reflexively jump back. The water gently washed over the girl’s body and began to seal up any injuries to stop the bleeding. Soft green lily pads drifted in and idyllic pink lotus flowers bloomed over the surface of the water. Trees of cherry blossoms emerged through the floors and walls without seemingly damaging them. Soon a slow rain of pretty cherry petals danced around the room. In the span of a few seconds the ominous looking arena of the final boss had transformed into a physical depiction of nirvana.

“What is… this? What did you do?!” shouted Ceht as he rattled his spear at her.

Reyleigh refused to answer. More strange words appeared before her.

All skills now deal 40% more damage as long as the field is active.

20% of all damage dealt is now converted to ‘True Damage’.

Your physical and magic defences have been increased by 40%.

Your HP, MP, and STAMINA will recover periodically.

Emotions believed to have died suddenly and fiercely returned to her. Soon, the flare and desire to survive burned brightly within her as she pulled her body up. ‘I can’t die here,’ she thought to herself. Exhausted and tired, even standing up was a great challenge but not returning to her family was worse than death. With a bit of focus she managed to materialize a steel sword much too large for her in her hand. The weight was a little unbalanced as she had previously been swinging it around with both hands, but now that she has become handicapped she needed to quickly adjust.

With her sensations and frame of mind returning to normal, so did her previously suppressed distress of losing her left arm. A wave of pain and panic violently ruptured through her body, but before she could verbalize those horrific feelings they were forcibly quelled.

‘Depictions of Lotus Land and Cherry Blossoms’, this skill alone was what had kept her sanity and body intact. Once the effects of the skill ends it was likely she would either die or be close to it. Being forced into rationality by the effects she felt that she no longer cared about her arm. Right now wasn’t the time to dwell on how she was going to live with a handicap but on how to survive for the next few minutes.

“What is this… skill? It doesn’t feel like anything from this world,” Ceht closely examined the girl’s appearance. Previously the darkness made it hard to discern her visage, but due to the glimmer of the etheric water which suddenly flooded this place her figure had become more clear. Pure white hair like the wings of an angel, clear golden eyes that could pierce through to a person’s deepest soul, and soft white skin like that of a doll’s. Her dress had been spoiled by all the blood and dirt, but the way she stood up to him with no sense of fear or hesitation granted her form more dignity than that of a king’s. Her unfaltering glare gave even the 530 year old therianthropic guardian a brief moment of pause. There was a subtle but noticeable sense of nervousness within him which felt very familiar. “This is almost like…” he dug through his ancient memories to the day he first accepted the duty of becoming the warden. There was certainly some kind of connection to this girl’s mysterious power and the initial reason as to why the God of Light had been imprisoned beneath this place. It was almost like fate that these two would come so close; as though Ceht’s entire history of being entombed was meaningless in the first place. Was he merely an obstacle meant to be overcome? His grip on Brionac tightened, “who are you?!” he demanded to know.

Yet, there was no conversation between the two. Reyleigh merely focused on what she had to do to escape from this tomb and the only way out was through Ceht. Killing him was impossible no matter how many strange powers she could muster, but if it was just to momentarily stop him then it was certainly within reason. While he was waiting for a response she replied through action. Her figure suddenly disappeared leaving behind only a vague silhouette of her form and just as quickly reappeared in front of him. Her rusted steel sword--a mediocre weapon with no magical properties--began to cast a silvery-white light as she swung it towards his chest. Ceht was honestly in awe of her straightforwardness, but there was a world of difference between a mere 8-year-old and a half-millennium-old guardian to an imprisoned god. Such a slow attack would never get by him.

The wolven warden moved the metallic haft of his spear forward to block her assault, and while it was successful there was an unexpected outcome. While not in its entirety, her attack pierced through both the handle of his spear and his sturdy breastplate to strike him across the chest. If only a small bit, his mighty blood had actually been drawn. “What the?!” Perhaps it was the fault of his long entrapment but his sense of battle and composure had considerably rusted over the long centuries. Even this small wound was enough to make him panic for a moment. “Damn you!” Rage festered through his veins like blood as he lashed out at the small child by throwing his god-slaying spear at her.

Empowered by the strange pool of water surrounding her feet, Reyleigh managed to evade the spear though not perfectly. Despite having dodged the physical spear, the sheer force of the throw was powerful enough to create a trail of shockwaves and managed to break several of her bones as it passed by. She was flung across the arena like a ragdoll. Thankfully, the skill which manifested around her also kept her alive by periodically healing her and granting her additional stamina to soldier on.

Ceht’s Brionac disappeared and appeared back in his hand without him having to physically pick it back up. His spear had many fantastic and magical enchantments; it was an ancient weapon of deific proportions created solely for the purposes of killing gods. He was granted the weapon as the warden in the event that the God of Light ever managed to escape. “Yet…!” he grinded his teeth until pieces of it chipped off. His bloodshot eyes glared back at the girl. “I have to use something like this against an infant?!” Unable to contain his ire he leapt forward letting his anger guide his movements.

His movements were far too fast for Reyleigh. The only way she could realistically respond to it was by retreating and maintaining a large distance between the two, though even then the sheer force of his attacks was enough to cause her to take damage. Her teleportation skill was in fact just a very fast dash but even that had its limitations; the range wasn’t too good at her current level and it consumed too much mana to be used haphazardly like this. Yet, what choice did she have? She was able to barely keep up through the magical powers of the water but that wouldn’t last long. “No,” she made up her mind. “I have to attack!”

After running around and evading for a good minute she now only had 1 point of mana remaining, meaning she could only use one more skill; it was do-or-die. Fighting him head-on was suicide but if she could just hinder his movements for a bit then she could use that opportunity to escape. Her attacks would be intercepted without a doubt but the ‘true damage’ portion of it would still connect even through his armour--she proved it herself earlier.

“Come back here you insolent whelp!” Ceht’s bestial instincts began to creep out. It empowered his already immense strength and movement, but at the same time caused his rationality and sanity to fade a little. It was the curse of the therianthropic races to be held back by their instincts, but for Ceht in particular this problem was worsened by his centuries of isolation. At this moment he had but one goal: to kill the child in front of him.

Reyleigh took a deep breath and readied her weapon. She forced herself to remember what she was doing all of this for. “I have to return…” she chanted to herself. Friends and family were the only things keeping her together and without them she’d return to being a failure. ‘Anything but that,’ she dreaded the thought. “I have to return!”