Asdras saw Third bent over in the makeshift garden, meticulously selecting a few herbs. Some she pulled from the soil by their root and stalk; others she snapped a few leaves from; and for the delicate buds, she used her thumbnail to pop them from their stems with practiced ease.
Though still tired, Asdras's eyes had regained their natural clarity, and his mind felt more normal, as if he were walking down a clear path. Occasionally, a mental obstacle would arise, demanding clever reasoning to either remove it or find a way around it.
"Zero, lad, morning. Come, sit with us." First called, waving his hand towards an empty stool.
“I didn’t ask before, but is my name really Zero?”
“No idea, lad, but we can’t just call you nothing. Since you came out of nowhere, we call you Zero.”
“I see… I hope I remember my real name soon.”
Asdras joined them on a stool, glancing around the bustling campsite. Third was tempering slices of steak from the animal, her hands deftly seasoning the meat, while Second ensured the cooking was on point.
Sixth sat taciturn, holding a dish while his lute rested nearby. To Asdras, it seemed that Sixth was always either with a broom by the fence or with his lute in hand. Asdras nodded inwardly, thinking that in such a hellish place, keeping one's mind occupied was a good way to maintain sanity.
First was helping Eight serve and eat. Asdras was about to voice his worries about the monster, but he paused, observing their expressions. They wore faces that he couldn't quite read — an mix of happiness, dread, or relief.
Sensing it wasn't the right moment, he kept his mouth shut, occasionally thanking them when served, praising the food, and listening to the crispy sound of wood and meat burning.
It wasn't until they had filled their stomachs and everyone except for Second and Asdras had left that he finally turned to Second and asked, “How are we going to slay that monster?”
Second nodded at Asdras's question and signaled with his hand for him to wait. Asdras watched as Second entered his tent and returned with a notepad of sorts. Sitting down, he caressed the leather cover of the notepad with his fingers, his expression heavy with contemplation.
“For years, day by day, I’ve thought about how to slay that monster,” he said, opening the first page. “At first, it was silly ideas, trying to think heroically and bravely, but week after week, despair filled us, and our denial was broken.”
“It happened when one of the few remaining awakened was sent to study that thing,” he paused. “Only one returned. He lost his legs and crawled back. Can you imagine it? Losing blood, crawling for at least half a day, yet that strength couldn’t do anything against the beast.”
“When we saw him, he was on the verge of losing consciousness, yet he had enough strength to pass us a message. He told us not to fight it, but to run or…
Asdras sensed Second's mood grow somber and heavy.
“My point is,” he said, looking deeply into Asdras’s eyes, “brute force and willpower alone are nothing against it. So, I tried to think of other solutions. What if we poisoned it? Didn’t work, we don’t have potent enough poison. What if we blocked the mine entrance? We tried and lost a few in the process, but it didn’t work. The ‘what ifs’ plagued my mind, and I was on the verge of losing my sanity.”
“It wasn’t until I realized I was the only awakened left that I gave in. I became taciturn and lost, for about a year or two, I can’t remember. Yet, after that time, something within me still wanted revenge, to destroy what had destroyed us. So, I sketched a plan, refining it over a year, filling dozens of notepads, including this one.”
Second showed his notepad to Asdras, its pages filled with dense writing, scratches, and turned corners. Every available space was crammed with words, leaving barely any room between the paragraphs.
“This was the last one, my compilation of thoughts and plans. But reality is cruel, kid. When I came down from moments of euphoria, driven by revenge, I realized I was too weak and too consumed by the curse to attempt anything.”
“The only thing that stopped me from ending it all was a false sense of pride and indignation. I prayed, cried, cursed, demanded, and promised more than anyone else I know to any god or demon that might be listening, yet nothing happened except for the despair and occasional flashes of light from the symbol. We often hoped the symbol would fail, though I believe the city sent us their best runesmith.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“And then, we found you.”
Second stood and patted Asdras on the shoulder. Asdras felt a whirlpool of emotions within him, a deep mix of empathy and sorrow. He couldn't imagine the pain and suffering Second must have endured.
“Isn’t it funny how life works sometimes? When you see nothing but pure darkness and feel you’ve hit the end of the road, life sends you a bit of hope, just to remind you you’re alive, just to let you seek a way out, only to bury you more deeply than before.”
“Trust me, I’m happy to see you. We’re all happy. But I can’t ignore the irony of knowing they treated these lands, our people, and our suffering as mere trials.”
Asdras felt his eyes wet, emotions welling up inside him. He was about to say something, to argue or reason, to at least voice his feelings, but Second stopped him with a gentle hand.
“Sorry, kid. It’s not your fault; I just needed to vent a little. Hell,” Second tried to smile, “if this is the will of the empire, then let us use it. Let our blood and will be used, but not for them — for our ancestors, our pride, and our friends who died. And be sure, we are going to watch and judge the empire from whatever afterlife there is. In their trial, I will weigh my blood and soul against them, and they will feel my fury. But know this: we are going to destroy that creature!”
A silence started to rise after Second's words, but it was short-lived as the familiar tune of Sixth's lute began to fill the air. Asdras could feel the eyes of the others on them, peering from their tents, watching and listening intently.
He felt strangely naked under their gaze, a silent expectation pressing down on him. It was as if their eyes were telling him he needed to be their hope, yet the sentiment felt hollow, as if the dusk had never ended and the sun had never come.
“How are we going to do it? I don’t think I’m strong enough to defeat that.”
“You’re not, kid,” Second said, his head bowed, lost in thought. The weight of his words pressed heavily on his shoulders. Finally, he looked up, meeting Asdras’s eyes with a mix of resolve and peace. “But the message told you, right? Cut the source. That’s the answer.”
“But I don’t understand,” Asdras began, his voice faltering. “Which source? Is it a thing, the curse? What is it?”
“The source is us, kid,” Second said, his voice almost empty. It was as if everything had been taken from him, the weight of his confession draining him.
The sudden rush of adrenaline and the unexpected relief that followed made him almost cry out in a mix of sarcastic yet happy laughter.
“What? How?”
“The monster was created from a curse. Every curse needs a set of rules and conditions, just like our awakened power. When you finish your awakening, you’ll know that for the power you receive, an equivalent flaw is made to balance it.”
“For the cursed monster, the answer became clear as day after what you told me about the crow’s message: to cut the source and everyone will find peace. The source of the curse is us. If you cut it, the monster will be weakened.”
“But how can I do it?” Asdras abruptly rose from his stool, his eyes wide with terror as he looked at Second, then at the faces gazing at him from their tents.
“How can you ask this of me? I can’t just kill you. You guys…” His voice trembled as his knees went weak, and buzzing filled his ears. “You guys saved me and fed me. How can I do it?”
“Trust me, kid,” Second said, his voice distant and his gaze absent. “That’s the only way to defeat it. If you don’t trust my words, trust that message. It told you to trust Joah, right? Well, see this.”
He opened the first page of his notepad, revealing his name: Joah. “It’s like a joke, no? But trust me, trust us. We’re tired. We need to rest, but resting while the monster is still alive isn’t rest—it’s hell. So help us. I know it’s much to ask, much to be a trial, but please…”
“But why me? Why not…” Asdras’s voice trailed off, his heart pounding in response to Second’s words and skipping a beat at the thought of the message.
To cut the source — it felt incomprehensible, a hollow void opening within him at the very idea. He looked into their eyes, bright and piercing with an odd light, and felt a crushing weight of expectation and despair.
“If just ending ourselves would work,” Second said, glaring at the remains of the animal in the fire — the bones, the fat, and the tender redness of the meat.
“We would have done it long ago. But it needs more than that. First, you need to bathe your sword in the waters of the wheel, then cut not only us but the trees surrounding us. That’s the only way to break the source. Otherwise, we'll just be rotting corpses standing by for that thing to eat.
“But…” Asdras’s voice faltered as he tried to steel himself for the task. He knew he had to do it, not only for himself but for them too. The weight of their desperate hope bore down on him.
If this was the only way to truly end the nightmare and defeat the monster, he couldn't shy away, no matter how cruel it seemed. He took a deep breath, feeling the enormity of the decision settle in his chest like a cold, heavy stone.
Even if it meant filling his heart with their ghosts and inner demons, he had to become their executioner and their savior. With a final, determined nod, he steeled himself for the gruesome task ahead.
“When?” he asked, his hands closing into fists, struggling to stay clenched under the pressure.
Second faced him, then placed his hands firmly on Asdras’s shoulders, looking deeply into his eyes. “Today,” he answered solemnly, his voice unwavering. “You need to do it today.”