"Erthel—!"
A voice echoed through the distance, drifting closer with every breath of silence.
His eyes lifted, pupils flaring wide. Confusion crashed into him as agony screamed from his chest, with thorns tightening around his skull.
He clutched his head and collapses to one knee, gripping himself as if the pain might fade if he held enough. His vision blurred, yet he tried to calm and forced to breath slow.
Erthel's slowly gained his vision, the pain receding until it became bearable. Putting his hand down with full of tears dripping , levered himself to stand up, he look around the place he was.
Ancient trees surrounded him, their towering trunks fading into the thick fog. He could barely see thirty feet ahead before the mist swallowed everything.
Thin rays of sunlight pierced the fog, illuminating tiny white particles drifting through the air like dancing dust.
While walking he saw a small pond, he look into his reflection on the water. A sudden sadness struck Erthel.
Erthel could sense attachment to memories he no longer possesed-emotions without images, weight without form.
A sudden shake from the bushes, Erthel look with a sense of fear slowly walking backward.
Hop.
A small rabbit leapt out of the bush.
Erthel sigh of relief.
"Hey little bunny, are you lost?"
Suddenly, a shadow stretched across the ground in front of him. The rabbit froze, its ears twitching as it stared past Erthel. Then it suddenly leapt away into the bushes. A soft light was shining from behind him. Slowly, Erthel turned to look.
Behind him stood a massive deer nearly twelve feet tall. Blue flowering vines wrapped around its antlers, and its white fur shimmered with intricate patterns.
The deer turned its head toward him, silently urging him to follow. It then stepped forward, moving quietly through the fog, and Erthel followed behind.
As they walked, the thick fog gradually thinned, becoming a soft mist drifting between the trees. After a short while, the deer came to a stop.
Erthel stepped forward and saw a narrow path formed by stones of different sizes set into the soil. Thin blades of grass grew between the gaps, and the stones were dark and damp, as if rain had fallen not long ago. Their wet surfaces made the path slightly slippery underfoot.
When he turned to look back, the deer was already walking away. Within seconds, its white figure faded into the mist and disappeared.
The path led into a dense evergreen forest. Different kinds of trees rose high above, their trunks wrapped in twisting blue and green vines.
As Erthel followed the narrow trail, the forest slowly opened to reveal a river ahead. The water split the land into two, curving around the area as if protecting the land on the other side.
In the distance, Erthel could see the remains of what looked like an ancient ruin.
Beside him, a massive tree root had grown across the river, stretching from one side to the other like a natural bridge.
Walking to the other side Erthel saw many shattered stone on the ground that looks like to build a structure, it was like a war happened causes to shamble the place, ruin and abandoned similar to a manor that has long history.
White bricks with a carve symbol of different shape, pottery, many different flowers, and growing vines, the most noticeable is the dome made up of glass, "It must be a green house". While he was looking around A glowing orb floated at the center of the ruins, radiating enough light to illuminate the entire landscape.
It was too light that it can be a sun when stare too long can burn your eyes. Being blind by it Erthel use his hand to cover his eyes, with a lift motion with his hand a sudden breaking shock accured the rocks, shattered glass, and broken wood lifted into the air, slowly assembling themselves piece by piece. The white dust particle begin to shatter across the place.
It's being rebuild, the ground lift emerging a clean white tiles, a 6 pillars made supporting the rooftop like a dome, a two layered floors was made in the middle where a gate like passage was being made, a staircase in opposite of each floor facing the gate.
Falls down by the shock, Erthel got up and saw a marvelous place, it was a paradise a nothing to never seen by anyone, it was gorgeous that can be see in a fantasy books.
He look up seeing the big gate in front, it looks like it's the only way to get out of the place, "This must be the place were reincarnation is, but the gate was not active"
By a sudden a hearing crack sound to be heard from the pillars, changing into a six pillars that is emitting a glowing light with different colors and shape on each, a different style, some sharp, some are flat. A big unknown words was carve on side of the light orb.
Each pillar seemed to carry a story of its own—scarred, silent, yet standing with unwavering strength, yet heavy with memories of what it had endured. Every each of them has a tall rectangular monolith rose upright, its narrow top dwarfed by its long vertical sides, sort of a table with only one stand. Colored Stones that size of a peanut on the table.
Erthel scanned the pillars, noticing that one of them had been broken. He paid it no mind and approached the first pillar. As he looked up, the strange symbols he hadn't understood a moment ago suddenly rearranged themselves in his mind, forming words he could now read.
[Origin] was carved into the first pillar, glowing faintly.
Hesitating for only a moment, Erthel reached out to touch the small stone on the table. The instant his fingers made contact, the world around him twisted and dissolved. In the blink of an eye, he found himself standing in a vast underground chamber.
The chamber was filthy, filled with the metallic stench of rust and damp stone. Erthel stood on a massive circular platform, chains dangling from above, stretching into the shadows. A yawning chasm surrounded the platform, its depths hidden in darkness. Straight bridges crisscrossed the tunnels overhead, converging at a small hole in the ceiling where a shaft of light barely illuminated the space.
"What… where is this place?" Erthel muttered, his voice trembling.
A strange voice echoed through the chamber.
"The trial cannot begin… the required number of participants has not been reached. Domain cleaning in progress."
"What the hell does that mean?" he whispered to himself.
"Sigh… where exactly am I—"
Suddenly, the chamber trembled violently. Chains swung wildly, clanging against the metal platform.
"It's getting hot in here!" Erthel yelled.
He forced himself toward the edge, peering down into the abyss—and froze. Lava was rising, glowing like liquid fire.
Panic overtook him, and he slid onto his butt, scrambling backward. The molten flow began to flood the platform. A hand shot out from the dome, grabbing his arm and yanking him back to safety. Erthel's chest heaved as he clutched the stone beneath him, his heart pounding.
Fear was written on Erthel's face. He gasped, holding his chest tightly.
Erthel barely finished catching his breath when something shifted beside him.
A presence.
Cold.
Heavy.
He slowly turned his head. A figure stood only a few steps away.
"AHH—!"
Erthel scrambled backward across the white tiles, his heart pounding violently in his chest.
"Oh—! I'm sorry"
The voice was calm. Almost gentle.
Standing before him was a tall figure, nearly six feet in height. Her body appeared to be made of shifting black matter, like living shadows woven together. Faint patterns of vines and leaves seemed to drift across her form, blending with the darkness.
Two curved horns rose from her head, twisting slightly backward like the branches of an ancient tree.
Her face was hidden behind a smooth mask, but two glowing golden eyes burned from within the darkness, watching him carefully.
Despite her frightening appearance, her posture was relaxed.
Almost casual.
She tilted her head slightly, as if studying him.
Erthel swallowed nervously.
She wore a layered cloak draped over her shoulders, woven from soft ivory fabric. The cloak hung unevenly across her body, its edges lined with delicate tassels that swayed softly when she moved.
A dark leather belt wrapped around her waist, decorated with small flower-shaped ornaments. Beneath the cloak, darker layers of clothing folded neatly, giving her appearance both elegance and mystery.
Small cords and charms hung from the side of the cloak, clinking softly against a small pouch at her hip.
The strange mixture of gentle clothing and shadow-like body made her look like something between a forest spirit and a traveler.
Erthel stared.
Still frozen.
The horned figure raised one hand slowly.
"Relax," she said softly.
"I'm… sorry, did I scared you that bad? " she said with a soft smile, tilting her head slightly.
"Didn't mean to startle you. My name is Mozedasez Vohana but you can just call me Moza"
Erthel swallowed nervously.
"What… are you? And what exactly is this place?"
Moza let out a soft chuckle. "Hmm… This place is my own realm, and I am a spirit. Don't worry—I would have harmed you already if I meant to."
Her golden eyes narrowed slightly, the faint twitch at the corners revealing she was smiling behind the mask.
"So… where am I?" Erthel asked.
"Let me explain," Moza said, turning slightly.
"Follow me"
She began walking slowly across the dome, the dim light of the ancient orbs reflecting across the polished stone floor.
"This place is the trial meant for the chosen one," she continued. "And I am the guide who oversees it. Long ago, a prophecy was made—that one day a man would arrive, challenge the six trials, and rise as the ruler."
Moza paused briefly, glancing back at him.
"Well… that's what the prophecy says, at least." She shrugged lightly. "I've been here for thousands of years, waiting for the chosen to appear."
Erthel blinked, stunned. "Thousands of years?"
Moza tilted her head.
"Trust me," she said casually. "Waiting gets very boring."
"Can't you just leave?"
"I would have done so if I wanted, but I was trapped here for mullenium by those damn gods believing to a prophet!" Moza said with a slight anger in her voice.
"Well you must have been gone through alot in your story" Erthel said with empathy in is voice.
"Speaking those prophet, what are does words carved in the pillars and what's that look like a gate?" With curiousity over his face.
"Let me just tell you a story, look at the first pillar it said Origin" Moza pointing at the acient word. "Yeah what about it?". Moza said " well it's alternative word for gods is creation".
There was once a world where humanity stood on the brink of extinction. It was known as the Lower World.
The land had fallen into pure chaos. Thick clouds covered the sky, casting the world into endless darkness. No plants grew, no rivers flowed—only dry earth and the remains of dead animals scattered across the barren ground.
Humans fought one another just to survive. Every crime imaginable was committed, and sin spread across the land like a plague. Cities had fallen into ruin; houses lay broken and abandoned, buried beneath dust, mud, and wild vines that had grown unchecked.
Then one day, a blinding light struck the center of a ruined city.
From within the light, a figure appeared.
The people gathered around him as he spoke:
"I descend to bring hope."
The man raised his hand, and golden light burst from his palm.
The clouds slowly parted. The dead land began to sprout life once more, and dry rivers filled with flowing water.
"It's a god!" the people shouted.
One by one, they fell to their knees before the floating figure.
But behind the corner of a crumbling building, a young man—no older than twenty-one—watched from the shadows.
He stayed hidden, careful not to be seen. Unlike the others, he knew the truth. The man floating in the sky was a fraud.
His name was Nevja. He had aa necklace covered in his cloak, his red eyes glowing like roses. His eyes could block mental magic and reveal the truth hidden beneath illusions. It was a false hope.
Through them, he saw that the world had not changed at all. It was still the same. The water people drank was made of blood and mud, the food they ate were corpses, their minds were slowly breaking.
And he could see it clearly—the man's power was growing stronger.
Anyone could become a god if people believed they were one. Belief could create miracles and give people hope. It only took one person to start believing, and eventually that belief would spread until it became a cult.
How did he know this?
No one knew how he came to possess such knowledge.
Time was running out.
Nevja rushed toward the castle walls and began to climb. Once inside, he ran through the hallways. The guards noticed him.
"Hey! Stop right there!"
He didn't stop. The guards chased after him.
At the end of the corridor were three doors.
Nevja didn't hesitate.
He ran straight into the first room.
When he entered, Nevja froze. The room was filled with people—maids, knights, and prisoners bound in heavy chains.
One of the knights unsheathed his sword.
"You're not out of your mind, are you?" he asked, his voice shaking with fear.
"No. I'm fine," Nevja said, slowly raising both hands.
The knight relaxed and sheathed his sword.
Nevja looked at him. "What is going on inside the castle?"
The knight swallowed hard before answering.
"It all started when the light appeared. We were in the throne hall. Then the king suddenly began laughing… giggling like a madman. He grabbed a sword from the knight beside him and cut off his head."
The knight's voice trembled.
"Then the king stabbed the queen in the stomach. After that… he dropped the sword and started eating from inside her belly."
Nevja stayed silent.
"Then everyone began losing their minds. They started slaughtering each other. Some of us weren't affected, so we ran and hid."
The knight tightened his grip on his armor.
"We have to kill that thing before it controls everyone… but we don't know how."
"It can be killed," Nevja said, his face calm and emotionless.
"We just have to destroy the crystal in its chest"
The knight frowned, staring at him. "How do you know that?"
Nevja met his gaze without hesitation.
"Just trust me," he said quietly. "Now come on, We're running out of time"
They rushed through the corridors and burst onto the balcony where the figure stood. The wind whipped through the open space, carrying the distant cries of madness from the castle below. Nevja's eyes narrowed as he saw the figure waiting.
There stood a man with long white hair. A large red crystal was embedded in the center of his chest. He was nearly naked, wearing only a pair of torn pants.
His face was horrifying. His eyes were covered in black, as if darkness itself had swallowed them. His mouth was split across his cheeks in a grotesque grin.
Blood dripped slowly from his mouth and eyes.
A knight from the hall had readied his bow. With trembling hands, he drew an arrow, aimed straight at the glowing crystal, and released it.
The arrow screamed through the air. The figure moved with terrifying speed, bending backward inhumanly to avoid the strike. The arrow embedded itself harmlessly into the stone railing.
The knight's eyes widened in shock. He barely had time to react before the man lunged forward. With a single brutal motion, he swatted the knight aside like a ragdoll. The man's bloodied hands crushed armor and bone alike, and the knight fell limp, lifeless, to the ground.
Nevja's heart pounded in his chest. He grabbed the knight who had been guiding him, pulling him aside. "Stay close!" he shouted.
The knight, now resolute, nodded, gripping his sword tightly. Together, they advanced toward the monster. Nevja's eyes glowed faintly as he calculated every move. The monster's crystal chest pulsed ominously with every heartbeat.
They attacked in unison. Nevja launched a lightning-quick strike aimed at the crystal while the knight swung his blade in a wide arc. The monster caught the knight's sword with one hand, snapping it effortlessly. Sparks flew as the metal bent, and the knight stumbled but rolled to his feet.
Nevja feinted and dropped to the ground. The monster's leg shot out, sending him sliding perilously close to the edge of the balcony.
"Hmm… Did you really think you could save them all?" the creature laughed, its voice echoing like broken stone.
Nevja struggled to rise, his body weak and trembling. Every muscle screamed in protest.
Suddenly, the monster grabbed the knight, lifting him into the air by the throat. The knight gasped, his legs kicking uselessly.
"Let him go!" Nevja shouted, his voice raw with desperation. "I know what you want!"
The monster paused, tilting its blood-smeared head. "Ah… so the old hag gave it to you, did she?"
Nevja's hand went to the necklace hidden beneath his cloak. His fingers closed around it, and he hurled it toward the monster. The pendant spun through the air, landing just at the edge of the balcony.
The monster's jagged grin widened. It bent forward, snatched the necklace, and held it up, glowing in its red crystal chest.
Nevja stole a glance at the knight, who was coughing and wheezing but still alive.
With a sudden surge of courage, Nevja leapt toward the monster. He crashed into it with all his strength, the impact sending both of them teetering over the balcony's edge.
Wind roared in Nevja's ears as he fell, the world tilting violently around him. But he didn't hesitate. He had a single purpose: survive… and finish this fight.
The monster staggered to its feet, barely holding itself upright. Nevja lay on the ground, drenched in blood, every breath a painful struggle. The necklace lay four meters away, glowing a faint, urgent red.
Summoning the last of his strength, Nevja crawled across the cold stone floor, inch by agonizing inch. The monster's dark eyes fixed on him.
"You!" it bellowed, stumbling forward to stop him. Its claws scraped against the stone as it lunged, catching Nevja's leg and dragging him back. Pain shot through his body, but Nevja's grip on hope did not falter.
Finally, he reached the necklace. His trembling hands clasped it, and in a flash, it transformed—morphing into a glowing sword. Nevja forced himself to stand, facing the monstrous figure with a final, defiant glare.
With a single, desperate surge, he drove the blade into the crystal embedded in the monster's chest. The red gem shattered, sending a shockwave of light across the balcony. The monster let out a guttural scream, collapsing into the void.
Nevja fell to his knees, the sword dissolving back into the necklace. His life left him in that instant, but his sacrifice had ended the reign of terror.
The knight raced down to the balcony, heart pounding. What he found froze him—Nevja and the monster both lay lifeless, the ground slick with blood. The sword had returned to its necklace form, but now it emitted a brilliant beam of light, piercing the sky.
Slowly, life returned. People stirred, blinking as they came back to their senses. Water flowed again through dry channels. Plants began to sprout, lush and green. Hope had returned to the world.
The knight picked up the glowing necklace, holding it reverently. He declared it a sacred relic, a symbol of true hope. Time passed, and the necklace was passed down through generations, until it rested safely in the chamber.