In the weeks following his creation of the first spell card, Aric had not been idle. He had forged a small collection of spell cards, mined and refined more of the enchanted ore, hunted for mana cores with valuable spell patterns, and gradually expanded his working area into a makeshift camp. He'd also made a knife. He was particularly proud of the knife, though he could not say why.
Despite all the progress he was making and the knowledge he was gathering, the unrelenting loneliness of his life in the dungeon had started gnawing at his spirit, eroding the enthusiasm that had suddenly taken hold of him those few weeks ago.Then, on his third hunt, as he searched for new spells to add to his growing collection, Aric heard a human voice echoing down a dimly lit tunnel.
Without hesitation, he set off in search of its source. Aric's steps echoed through the gloom as he followed the haunting cries for help that had pierced the stillness of the dungeon. His heart raced as his mind summoned up all the terrible ends a person might fall victim to in the dungeon, and he quickened his pace as the distress in the voice became more pronounced. It was clear that someone was in dire need of assistance.
As he descended deeper into the labyrinthine passages, Aric's keen ears picked up the frantic tone of the girl's voice, her calls for help growing louder and more desperate. He couldn't ignore her pleas. Soon, he reached a steep cliff, and his heart clenched as he beheld the scene below.
A young girl, dressed in tattered adventurer's garb, lay partially buried under a mound of rocks and earth. Her eyes, wide with fear, darted around as if searching for any escape. Surrounding her were a pack of scaled, canine-like creatures, their snarling jaws and sharp claws kept at bay only by a fragile magical barrier.
Without hesitation, Aric descended into the pit, driven by the instinct to rescue her. As he climbed, he spotted a corpse nearby the girl, partially hidden in the shadows of the fallen rock, another victim of the dungeon. He clenched his teeth and shook his head, redoubling his efforts to reach the girl.
As he finally reached the bottom of the pit, panting slightly from the exertion, he called out reassuringly, "I'm here to help. You're going to be alright." He tried to put her at ease, but as he approached, her voice changed. It was as if she had recognized him as a monster.
"No! Go away! Leave me alone!" Her words were laced with anger and fear, and she frantically waved her arms to keep him at bay, reinforcing the failing barrier with the last dregs of her magic.
Aric tried to calm her, to explain that he was not a threat, but it was futile. Receiving the treatment he’d both expected and dreaded after revealing himself to a human for the first time, Aric's chest ached. Even so, he steeled his resolve and continued to slowly approach, determined to help the girl, whether she wanted him to or not.
Her voice shifted again, taking on an eerie, possessive tone. "Mine. They're mine," she hissed, her eyes filled with jealousy and malice.
Frightened and bewildered by her sudden change, Aric took a step back, unable to look away from the unsettling transformation in her demeanor. Her voice returned to its previous tone of a frail, injured girl in desperate need of aid, pulling at his heartstrings.
An internal war raged within Aric as he struggled to make sense of the situation. But before he could decide on a course of action, a group of adventurers arrived, drawn by the girl's pitiful cries as he had been.
As the group of adventurers reached the edge of the pit, their voices filled with relief and concern. They recognized the trapped girl as a member of their party, someone they had been desperately searching for since they had become separated.
"Sera! We found you!" one of the adventurers called out, his voice filled with relief. "Hold on, we're coming down to get you."
Sera, the trapped girl, called out to her companion with a thin and frightened tone, her eyes brimming with tears. "Malik, please, hurry! I thought I was going to die down here."
Another adventurer shouted, "We're setting up ropes now. Just hold on a little longer, Sera!"
Aric quickly hid himself in the shadows, realizing that these humans, too, would see him as nothing more than a threat. He watched as the adventurers began scaling the pit's sheer walls, and a complex melange of emotions swirled inside him at the sight. Relief at Sera’s imminent rescue; bitterness over her misapprehension; envy, sorrow, longing, and more besides. The adventurer’s were entirely oblivious to the small figure lurking in the dark and the storm in his chest, their focus solely on reaching the endangered girl.
However, as the adventurers climbed, the shadows seemed to come alive, and great black tendrils emerged with terrifying speed. The sharp tips of these tendrils pierced the adventurers while they were vulnerable, still clinging to the walls, killing them with brutal efficiency.
The trapped girl and the monstrous creatures that had surrounded her faded away like a cruel illusion, revealing a bird with pure white plumage. It crowed with triumphant glee at the success of its malevolent trap. Aric recognized it immediately—it was a Siren, capable of creating illusions and subtly manipulating emotions with its call.
Anger coursed through Aric, not only at being deceived but also over the injustice of the adventurers' gruesome deaths. He felt helpless, unable to intervene as he watched the grotesque spectacle unfold before him.
The black tendrils drained the blood from the lifeless adventurers into a basin, and the bird bathed in it as if it were a macabre birdbath, its once-white feathers now stained crimson.
Aric couldn't bear to watch any longer. Disgusted and afraid, he began to climb out of the pit, but when he saw the Siren take flight overhead, its feathers still covered in blood, a morbid curiosity gripped him. He couldn't help but wonder where the creature was going.
His pursuit of the Siren led them through the twisting passages of the dungeon, with Aric forced to sprint and occasionally teleport to keep up with the bird's swift speed. Finally, they arrived at the heart of the dungeon—the dungeon core.
To Aric's astonishment, the Siren flew directly into the core with no resistance. He recalled how it had felt solid when he'd banged his fists on it shortly after his arrival, and now, with morbid fascination, he couldn't help but wonder if the blood on the Siren had something to do with it.
Hours passed, and Aric continued to watch the dungeon core, waiting to see what would happen next. Finally, the Siren emerged from the core, its body subtly transformed. It was larger, more beautiful, and the magic within it felt significantly stronger to Aric's senses.
He stared at the apparently transformed creature in incomprehension, and then, almost unwillingly, he realized the horrifying truth of the dungeon. Aric had read several competing theories regarding the apparent correlation between the age of monsters and their comparative strength and size, but the nightmarish reality was now laid bare before Aric.
Words that his master had whispered to him in another life surfaced once more in Arics heart: The chaotic, unbridled aether within a dungeon core holds the power of creation … and transformation.
Monsters didn't innately possess the ability to grow stronger and larger over time. Monsters weren’t somehow slowly bolstered by the excessively high quantities of aether present in their dungeon habitats. Aric’s gaze, dull with shock, was inexorably drawn to his strange, bloodless, inhuman hands. For the first time in weeks, the sight of his new form evoked a sense of revulsion and wrongness.
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Monsters evolved through sacrifice.
— — —
Aric ran. He didn’t have a destination in mind, and didn’t concern himself with the direction his feet took him, so long as it was away. He observed, unsurprisingly, that he could sprint faster down a slope than up it, and soon found himself passing through unfamiliar tunnels and caverns, delving far deeper into the dungeon’s depths than he’d ever dared before.
The unending stream of thoughts and ideas that normally vied for his attention were, for once, blessedly absent. There was only the next step to take, the next gap to leap, the next boulder to surmount and then leave fading back into the gloom behind him.
The glowing moss of the upper levels grew scarce as he descended further, plunging Aric into tracks of true darkness. The yawning black was broken only by the occasional crystal nestled in the walls, briefly pulsing with a flickering white light only to return to quiescence in the next instant.
Still, even blinded, the crystals serving no purpose other than to ruin his night vision, Aric ran. Whenever he stumbled or fell, he quickly got back up, ignoring the minor scrapes and bruises he’d earned, refusing to slow down or stop for more than a moment.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Aric could push himself no further. He collapsed to the cold stone floor of a wide, empty chamber. He was alone here, more so than he’d ever been in this life or the last. He’d passed a few monsters in the last stretch of his frenzied flight, gargantuan beings whose alien forms produced their own light like the abyssal creatures said to haunt the deepest depths of the sea. However, there were none in this place, leaving Aric to pant and heave in peace as his fatigued muscles ached and convulsed in protest.
“Why did you run, Wellspring?”
Aric stiffened. Not just at the sudden intrusion, but at the word. Wellspring. It had been spoken in a tongue he did not know, should have been utterly incomprehensible, and yet it had immediately summoned to his mind a memory of the tower heart.
“Who’s there?” He demanded, shakily standing up, his hand hovering over the small deck of spellcards on his hip. “Why do you call me by that name?”
“It's your name. I can see it there in your chest.” The voice fluctuated as it spoke, changing its tone and cadence randomly and moving around the room, as if Aric were surrounded by people speaking in sequence. “I couldn’t see it before, when I could only sing lies. Now I can. That’s why I followed you.”
“What do you want from me?” Aric asked, not allowing his voice to quaiver. The fear creeping up his spine as the voices continued was impossible to ignore.
“Make me whole again, Wellspring. As I was when I was young. Though I am greater now, I fear the emptiness inside me. I feel it growing when I sing, consuming me.”
“My name is Aric,” Aric snapped, not wanting to hear that unspeakable word anymore, or feel the strange, piercing truth contained within it. “Enough of this. Show yourself!”
In response to his demand, a blinding white light erupted above him, forcing Aric to shield his eyes. When he could see again, his astonishment left him momentarily speechless. In the center of the radiance hovered a creature familiar to him, a white bird—the Siren.
Aric's eyes blazed with anger and determination as he confronted the Siren. He couldn't fathom working with a creature that had taken human lives to increase its own strength, no matter what arguments it presented. "I won't help you," he declared firmly. "I won't be a part of your twisted evolution, fueled by death and suffering."
The Siren regarded him with a perplexed expression, and within the depths of its eyes Aric sensed an otherworldly intelligence measuring him, calculating. "You refuse to see reason, Aric," it mused, the voices within it harmonizing in a haunting chorus. "Are we not all children of this dungeon? Is it not our duty to grow strong and protect that which created us? These humans who invade our realm—they come here willingly, knowing the cost, and yet they choose to seek power at any price, driven by their own greed and ambition."
Aric was left momentarily speechless by the Siren's argument. The creature's words seemed to carry a twisted logic, and he couldn't deny the truth in them. Would he condemn a human kingdom for defending its borders from invaders who wish to pillage and steal the very hearts of its people? However, he still refused to accept the act of killing humans as a means to an end.
"No," he replied firmly. "I won't be a part of it."
The Siren let out a resigned sigh and raised its head. Aric watched it open its beak wide, and he hurriedly cupped his hands over his ears, but he couldn’t completely shield himself from the Siren’s song. It began to sing, its voice a mesmerizing melody that echoed through the chamber. Images and emotions surged through Aric's mind as the Siren wove its illusions, attempting to control his thoughts and feelings.
Suddenly, Aric found himself transported to a place he thought he had left behind forever—the tower of Veridus as it crumbled and collapsed, surrounded by destruction and despair. His heart broke again as he saw his Master’s body. He turned away, but there was no escaping the images of death here. He saw Velt, her body broken but not yet lifeless, and felt a bolt of lightning streak through his veins. He ran to her side, falling to his knees to pick her up.
“I-I'd seen that Wierden meister before, must have watched him prepare the spell. I saw the darkness in his ring, and didn't think to say anything. I was stupid, and weak, and slow. I’m sorry, Velt. I let you die. I’m so, so sorry.” Aric cradled her in his arms, tears streaming down his face as he stuttered apologies, his guilt and regret pouring out of him like an unstoppable tide.
Velt looked up at him with forgiveness in her eyes, and moreso, the light of an unshakable faith. "There's a way," she whispered weakly, her voice barely audible. She pressed a trembling hand to Aric's chest. "You have the power to save me, Aric. It's inside you. Please, use it."
Anxiety coursed through Aric as he reached deep within himself, desperately seeking a way to rescue Velt. His consciousness brushed against something bright and unbelievably powerful inside him, and for a fleeting moment, he felt a glimmer of hope. He sunk into the magic, and grasped it, taking control.
However, when he opened his eyes, power crackling through his irises, he realized something was wrong. There were feathers in Velt’s hair. His hand, which had been reaching out to her chest, ready to infuse her with the mysterious energy, paused.
“Go on. Please, Aric. Please!” Velt begged, tears welling up in her eyes.
Aric’s heart wavered, and his hand shook, but—why was it so pale? He shook his head, and looked around him again, drawing more mana into his eyes. The crumbling white stone of the tower flickered, and was replaced with a rough black granite.
“Please! Aric!”
The vision he was seeing suddenly seemed false, and a painful truth struck him—it had already happened. Velt was already dead, and he had died with her. He had been reborn. This wasn’t real.
Instead of channeling his mana into Velt, as she continued to weakly beg him to do, Aric infused it into a spellcard.
Rallying his will and magic, Aric summoned earth to bury the illusion of Velt in front of him, where he knew the Siren must be. Her enrapturing melody was interrupted, and taking advantage of the glimpse he’d stolen of the world beyond its veil, he pushed more mana into the card.
Mana and aether moved in a difficult, precise pattern, summoning rings of stone to ensnare the Siren's beak and wings. The creature attempted to continue singing, but its voice was restrained by the stone bonds. The illusion around them wavered, revealing both the captive Siren and the twisted images it had conjured.
In the fractured reality of the illusion, the Siren's voice still echoed. It begged Aric to spare its life with a stolen voice, the creature's fear written plainly in Velt’s amber eyes, a monster masquerading as something human. For a moment, Aric saw his own reflection in those frightened eyes, a reminder of the choice he had made and the difficult path ahead.
He held the knife he had forged, its blade shining ominously in the conjured light. The temptation to plunge it down into the breast of the trapped Siren, ending the creature's existence and potential threat forever, weighed heavily on his mind. He could take its magic for himself, disguise himself, and find a place where he had a chance to belong. But as he looked at the creature, he realized that it was different from the other monsters he had slain—a being with self-awareness, intelligence, and a will to live.
Aric's grip on the knife wavered. He’d made his decision. With a deep breath, he placed it back in its sheath. He would not kill the Siren, but he would not allow it to lure humans into danger any longer either.
The Siren's fear-filled eyes remained locked on him as Aric spoke with unwavering determination. "I won't end you, but I also can't set you free. You're coming with me."
With that, Aric began to manipulate the stone rings, reshaping them into restraints to further secure the Siren. The creature struggled, but Aric's magic and newfound resolve held firm. He’d believed himself unique, with his human mind in a magical body. Now that he’d found a monster that could reason and feel, he realized that wasn’t necessarily true. He was both human and monster. With that realization, he felt his perspective shift.
If this world was not a place where the two facets of his being could coexist, then he would remake it.