Evelyn laid on the stiff straw mattress in their room and watched as Lucas sat at the desk in the corner; transfixed by the tome opened before him. She had tried to lean over his shoulder and read along, but all she saw were empty silver pages. While he occupied himself with his new artifact, Evelyn tried to remember all of the quick ways they could make money—she really wanted some better clothes.
Alchemy was out—with everyone and their mother being at least an adept for the special potion they receive. Trying to hunt was not an option either since Lucas had not yet learned a single spell and they could not afford even a dagger between the two of them. That left odd jobs, finding a sponsor or transferring some credits to a broker.
Making money from Dustspire is one thing, but spending money to play just isn't as fun.
Even if she was okay with the last option, Lucas certainly would not be okay with it. A yawn escaped from Evelyn and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. She sat up and crossed her legs. With her eyes closed, Evelyn began to meditate. Starting with a deep breath in, holding it for a few seconds then exhaling. Over and over she repeated this until she entered a trance.
When Evelyn first opened her mind's eye to sort through her memories—something all elves did when they meditate instead of sleeping—she was greeted by not the pleasant remembrance of the past, but something else.
Aw… Was all of that just flavor text?
Before Evelyn was what looked to be a temple, cloaked in pale blue flame and ancient stone. The vaulted ceilings arched like the ribs of a large beast, and every pillar was carved with long-eroded sigils that pulse faintly as if the magic that powered them had faded. The air rippled with power that felt older than even that of which she had felt from the spires.
Towards the center of the temple, dark red fluids pooled towards a basin through the cracks of the marble floor. The scent of copper hung in the air and seemed to cling to Evelyn. From the pool, vein-like red vines crept upwards, clinging to the sides like ivy. At the edge of the pool sat a woman, her back facing Evelyn.
From the small of her back were two large feathered wings of white. Two sets of horns—one rising from the top of her head and the second from behind and curving forward—gleamed blueish-silver in the light. Long dark hair fell from her in silken waves, and in combination with the woman's wing, obstructed Evelyn from seeing anything else.
"Come closer, little one. Don't linger in the threshold like a secret half-spoken. The night waits for no one... and your baptism draws near." When the woman spoke, it was layered. One tone rode above; smooth, melodic, intoxicating. Beneath it, fainter and almost imperceptible, were echoes—other voices, older voices—her true voice uncoiled, stretching back to the first nightfall. There was a sweetness to it, but spoiled—decay dressed in perfume.
Evelyn stepped closer in a trance, her body moving before she could command it. As she neared, she was able to take in more of the woman's appearance. Golden chains and ruby-studded ornaments clinged to her dress. Of which looked to have been woven from the starry sky, almost exactly like the inside of the wooden box Corruption's Embrace had been in. The dress hugged her body comfortably along with sheer ribbons of blood red fabric held up by golden clasps and ruby studded brooches.
The sound of a liquid pouring pulled Evelyn's attention to a raised goblet in the woman's left hand. A thick stream of crimson poured languidly into the pool below—which Evelyn finally realized was filled with blood.
Never experienced anything quite like this before.
Evelyn tried to open her mouth, to ask a question, but her body refused to obey. The woman, her crimson eyes pointed towards the pool, whispered, "Through Corruption's Embrace, the thread is woven. Weak, yes… but enough. Enough to begin again." The goblet, which had seemed endless before, poured its last drop.
Raw magic pulsed from deep within the pool of crimson. Evelyn felt her chest tighten as the sensation threatened to overwhelm her. It was only when the woman spoke again, did it lessen and she could breathe again, "You feel it, don't you? This world… it's stirring like a wym from its slumber." She set the goblet down and gestured to the pool, "I don't need devotion, just a hand to turn the key. In exchange, I offer change. Potential. A path."
Like a puppet with their string cut, Evelyn dropped to her knees. Whatever it was that possessed her, passed. Slowly, Evelyn looked up, her ice blue eyes locking with the woman's crimson. She grinned, the idea of being offered some sort of hidden boon too tempting, "I would gladly accept."
"Then let us dispense with the masks." The woman stood, the shadows under her lapping at her heels like loyal dogs. She offered Evelyn her hand, like a monarch before their subject, "I am Nyxie. The Nightmother. Personification of Corruption. Change made manifest." When Evelyn took her hand and kissed it, she lifted Evelyn's chin with a single, clawed finger, "You are mine now. Not in chains… but in purpose. And purpose, darling, is the finest leash of all."
…
Evelyn rubbed her eyes and sat up—a roughspun blanket falling from her shoulders. She frowned, and scratched her head. "When did I fall asleep?" Evelyn looked over to Lucas, who in the darkness she could tell had not moved from his seat at the desk; her darkvision allowing her to see in shades of grey. Without turning his head, he replied, "A few hours ago, I'm not quite sure."
Lucas looked around, first up at the lantern—which was no longer lit—then towards her, "when did you blow out the lamp?" When he looked at her, she noticed a faint light emitting from his eyes. "Why are your eyes glowing?" She asked, wondering if it had something to do with his new artifact.
He clenched his jaw and pointed in her direction, "Mine? Why are your eyes glowing?" Evelyn tossed off the blanket and moved closer to Lucas, having noticed something. Once she reached him she grabbed his jaw and forced open his mouth. "Whuhh arr yuhh dohh—?"
Her fingers brushed over and under his lips, giving her a clear view of his teeth. Instead of his normal canines, he had longer cuspids. "You have fangs." She let go of his mouth and bit her lip. Glowing red eyes? Fangs like a vampire? Evelyn thought it was kind of hot. Lucas quickly stood up from his seat and cupped her face. Her heartbeat quickened as he moved his face closer.
Then much as she had, he stuck his fingers in her mouth, "Ev, you have fangs too." Lucas removed his hands and sat down on the bed, "What…happened to us?" He rubbed his temples, "And why is it so hard to remember?"
Evelyn sat beside him, her voice was quiet, "I… I think I met her… The Nightmother." Slowly, the memory came to her, "She stood over me. I was in this pool of blood. It was some sort of baptism."
Lucas reached out, his fingers brushing hers. "She baptized you?" Evelyn nodded, "It felt like… an intense heat spreading out from my chest. It should've hurt, but it didn't. She held me the whole time, just like a mother would." A moment of silence passed before Lucas responded, "I think I was in a library."
Evelyn could see it in his eyes as he slowly recalled as she had. "As I walked down the rows of books I heard whispers. One book called out to me the loudest, and before I could grab it, she stopped me." Evelyn's head tilted, surprised, "The same goddess?"
"She never said her name, but I knew. Somehow. The Nightmother." He paused, looking at the still opened tome on the desk, "She told me I wasn't ready. That I should stick to the basics." He scoffed, "She's probably right. I almost failed that apprentice trial... Anyways, she put that tome in my hand—" he inclined his head towards The Nightmother's Solace "—and guided me through my first spell."
"A goddess taught you a spell?" Evelyn whispered. Lucas swallowed, "did she ever say she was a goddess? I thought Dustspire didn't have gods." She nodded, "Technically there are no gods, since people worship the spires. Clerics, Paladins, Priests, even Warlock archetypes all get their magic from the spires. When I wanted to become a Paladin of Dustspire, I had to travel all the way to Eternavale's capital and join the Radiant Guard just so I could have a chance at being blessed by the spire."
"How does that even work? Being blessed by the spire?" Before she could answer, there was a knock on the door. A voice followed, like a crack of thunder, "Excuse me, this is a wake up call. Check out in an hour unless you would like to extend your stay." Lucas winced and with his voice barely above a whisper asked her, "Should we stay until night? I don't know if our…changes will give us some difficulties."
"Thank you!" Evelyn responded to the person at the door then to Lucas in a much softer tone, "We should probably find that out soon. We can save theology lessons for later." Together, they stood up from the bed and began to collect their things; which was not much. Lucas gripped his artifact tightly and exited the room first.
Once they reached the stairs, Lucas held up his hand for Evelyn to stop and alone he crept towards the bottom of the stairs. Evelyn rolled her eyes and waited as her knight in shining armor tried to figure out if they sparkled or burned in the sun. When Lucas reached the bottom of the stairs, he stiffly walked to the door and opened it just enough to let some light in. She watched as some of the residents of the inn—who were enjoying their meals—stopped to watch her boyfriend's antics.
"I think that feller drank a wee much." Someone said, laughter following. Lucas's face began to flush with color and he stood straighter. He tossed the door open and stepped outside. "Maybe he's one of those dudes who's afraid of the outside?" Someone else asked to even more thunderous laughter. Lucas re-entered the inn, his face stoney as he avoided looking at the crowd and made his way back up the stairs to where Evelyn waited. "Well? Did you sparkle? You don't look like you caught fire again." She grinned, earning her a groan from her boyfriend.
"No issues, so we should be good." He took a step and waited for her before he continued down the stairs. She handed him her room key and he took it to the nearest worker. Meanwhile, She opened the door of the inn and took a step outside. Sure enough, when the sun's rays hit her, she did not combust. Sadly, she did not sparkle either.
Well, there goes that fantasy.
Today it seemed Lucas was taking the lead—as when he exited the inn, he grabbed Evelyn's hand and began to lead her through the streets. "Where to next?" She was generally curious, since Lucas had not really shared all of his plans with her. "Originally, I planned on becoming an Adept Alchemist straight away and leveraging that to make enough money to survive until I could become a priest. The apprentice trial showed that wouldn't work."
Evelyn winced, the new prices for testing had shocked her, but it made sense that things were not the same as Lucas had planned using information that was posted online. Dustspire was closer to a living and breathing world—things were constantly changing and nothing repeated.
"So," he continued, "I came up with something else… It's a little riskier than I'd like, but it should get us some capital." Lucas was taking a risk? Evelyn could hardly believe the words coming from her boyfriend. She squeezed his hand, "Whatever it is, I'm right here. Just tell me what I need to do."
"Thanks." He scratched his cheek, "It's a ritual from the book… I'll probably need your help setting it up." Lucas then whispered to her the plan. It had promise, but it all seemed to hinge on how well she could leverage her charms. Nothing too difficult.
…
"What did they say?" Lucas asked her as she stepped out of the seventh butcher shop they had visited. "Same as the rest. The owner said we can meet him out back." She smiled and took towards the alley, the coins in her pouch adding a nice weight to each step. When they arrived behind the butcher, the owner was already there. He gestured around, "Set up your fancy circle anywhere. One of ya can follow me to get the scraps."
Lucas stepped forward and followed the elf back inside. While Lucas went to grab everything, she got to work drawing a ritual circle into the ground with some chalk. It was not too difficult for her, having drawn similar circles hundreds of times in the last year. When it was finished, Lucas returned with his first box.
He placed it down in the center of the circle, a huge grin on his face despite the sweat trailing down his face from the exertion. Evelyn followed Lucas inside and helped him carry some of the larger boxes. Her muscles screamed from the constant lifting, but it felt satisfying. She would have to work hard if she wanted to transform her scrawny elf arms into something even half the size of what her orc had been.
After about half an hour of moving all of the bone, blood, and offal the butcher's did not want to deal with, Evelyn added the final touch to the ritual—an empty ink vial. Lucas stood, Nightmother's Solace in hand, and began to chant.
"From gore to glyph, from rot to rite—let viscera bloom with twisted light. Bone be ground, blood be bled, offal stirs where truth has fled. With ink that stinks of death and time, we write our will in shadow's rhyme."
The circle began to glow crimson and the stench of rot threatened to consume Evelyn's senses. Then, in a flash of blinding light, the foul smell was banished. The scent of lilies floated in the air, with a hint of something else just below. The offerings were consumed, and all that remained were empty boxes, barrels, and a now filled vial of crimson ink.
Lucas panted heavily, each casting of the ritual seeming to take more out of him. Evelyn entered the circle and palmed the vial. "Who knew making money could be so easy?" Lucas groaned, "Speak for yourself. I don't think I can do that again today."
"Too bad." Evelyn handed Lucas the vial, "I don't think we'll be able to continue this up for long. Once someone catches wind of what we did, someone will figure out a way to copy us." Her boyfriend smirked, "Doesn't matter. We have enough money now." He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve and pulled away, "But first, let's get a change of clothes and maybe a bath."
Evelyn beamed, "Yay! Shopping. Just let me tell the owner we've finished." Once she did so, she set off with Lucas towards the markets. The evening sun, hovered off in the distance, and a pleasant breeze helped the sweating couple cool down. They walked arm in arm looking at the stalls and shops, eventually stopping at a general goods store.
A large sign read out front said, 'The Turnip & Tally' and through the glass windows—which was not common for the shops in this area—Evelyn could see an aged halfling woman sitting behind the counter having a conversation with a customer. As she and Lucas entered, they were able to overhear as they browsed—mostly Lucas grabbing things off the shelves.
"—mn newcomers floodin' the market. It's a wonder the forest hasn't run out of beasts!" The customer sounded aggrieved. "Mistress Tilda, please tell me you have some ideas. I'll be out of business soon if they keep selling things below standard rates!" The halfling—Mistress Tilda it seemed—took a drag from a pipe and blew smoke into the man's face. "Calm yourself, child. Just wait until the meeting. A few guests from a few of the surrounding cities will be attending to discuss these 'corporations.'" She said the last word slowly and enunciated it as if it was foreign to her.
Lucas froze as he was in the middle of grabbing a backpack and looked at Evelyn, mouthing the words, "Hidden quest?" She shrugged and mouthed back, "Maybe?" while grabbing a backpack of her own. With both her coin pouch and Lucas's filled to the brim, they needed something larger to hold their newfound wealth.
"Where do these foreigners even come from? Some of them act as if we are lesser, mindless. I caught one trying to put a basket over my head!" Once they grabbed everything they needed, Lucas quietly placed everything on the counter, and when the elf who had been speaking loudly noticed, he coughed into his hand, "Apologies—" he eyed the couple warily and bowed to the halfling "—I shall leave you to your business, Mistress Tilda."
Once the man vacated the premises, Mistress Tilda shook her head, "Children. Can't even contain themselves in public." Her eyes briefly passed over everything placed on the counter and she named her price, "78 gold, three silver and seven copper. No haggling."
Wordlessly, Lucas pulled 79 gold out of his pouch and placed it on the counter. He then began to pack everything into the two bags. "Could you give my partner and I a recommendation on where we could get some new clothes?" Evelyn questioned Tilda as she placed their change on the counter; six silver and three copper.
"Of course darling, four shops down towards main. Look for 'The Stitch.' I know, very original. Tell Mendin that Mistress Tilda sent you." Evelyn and Lucas both thanked her and grabbed their things. Lucas, carrying one backpack and Evelyn with her own plus their new tent. He had tried to carry it himself, but it seemed whatever transformation they had undergone had not given him much, if any, strength. Evelyn on the other hand still felt like she could lift more despite the soreness.
When the sun had finally set, Lucas found himself once again pouring over the pages of The Nightmother's Solace. While he did, Evelyn sat in meditation—his girlfriend still needing some form of rest. He however, found that he did not tire, not in the same way. They had both changed due to the Nightmother's gifts, and while the changes had some similarities, they seemed quite different past the obvious.
Both of them had fangs and superior darkvision, but that is where the similarities seemed to end. Lucas currently did not feel the need to sleep—he was not sure if this was merely because he could now go longer without it or if the need had been removed entirely. Not only that, but he seemed to recover his stamina faster than Evelyn.
Instead, she was tougher, faster and stronger. There were probably a laundry list of other changes, but those had been all of the things that stood out to them so far. They still needed to eat, drink and breathe—as far as Lucas could tell. They were not vampires, which seemed to make Evelyn sad, even if that had seemed the most likely conclusion.
Lucas closed his eyes and dragged his hands down his face. His foot bounced and he lightly drummed his fingers on the desk as he thought. Things… had not gone as planned multiple times. First the alchemy trial he almost failed, him not even attempting to become an Adept Alchemist due to the increased price for testing, and finally these strange artifacts and the changes they had brought.
Sure, so far things had worked out—he had learned a spell directly from a god, learned a new ritual that allowed himself and Evelyn to make a lot of gold—but things felt too easy. It was almost like someone had laid things out conveniently for him. He had his suspicions as to who, but he had no way to verify. Lucas realized he probably would not find out the truth of the matter for quite some time.
What did the letter say? Something about whispering at odd hours?
He figured it could not hurt to try. Lucas looked over to make sure Evelyn was still in her trance, and he leaned close to the tome. Softly, he said, "I need power, power to decide for myself where I will go. I know not what I can offer, but I do know what I won't. My life, my love, and my freedom." The silence after his words were deafening. The lantern, previously unlit, sparked with a blue flame. The pages of the tome before him began to hum gently and glow with a soft pale light.
The pages began to rustle of their own accord—not turning, but shivering, as though his plea had been heard and was being considered. Then, without a hand to guide it, the pages began to turn until it opened to a random page. Across the parchment, the ink flowed like mercury until a ritual etched itself in red.
It was another ritual. Not a trade of life, nor love, nor freedom—but a vow. The ceremony it outlined was simple, under an open night sky he would have to whisper her name—not aloud, but in his very soul. Then, he had a choice; he had to sacrifice something meaningful. A belief, a fear, a limitation that bound him. He would give it to the Nightmother, a sacred offering where she would replace what he gave up with one of her own.
Lucas swallowed hard, and stood up. He swiped the tome from his desk and made his way to the door. It was time to get stronger.
Lucas had once again changed when Evelyn stirred from her meditation. It was noticeable immediately—his hair having turned white. "Oh dummy… what did you do?" He gave her a half smile and raised his hand, conjuring a blue flame. "I became a priest of Nyxie. She named me her Head Priest in these lands."
Evelyn's brows furrowed, "That seems like an important position… But why?" He dismissed the flame and took her hands in his, "Because of the artifacts we hold. That and we're apparently the only two who know of her." That surprised Evelyn, "That was… surprisingly candid of her."
He nodded slowly, "are you mad?" To respond, Evelyn picked up Lucas's hand and bit it. "Ouch. Why can't you just answer me like a normal person." She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him, "What would I be mad? It's a game! We're meant to do stupid stuff and just have fun. I wish you would do more stuff like this, dummy."
I also wish you'd let me help you with whatever is troubling you.
"But… Now that you've gotten a headstart on your archetype, it's my turn to drive for a bit. Originally I was going to try some sort of barbarian archetype to capitalize on your healing, but I think with these babies—she showed off Corruption's Embrace—I think I should maybe do a hybrid. Which will require me to do two trials."
She was a little peeved that Lucas was able to become a priest so quickly—it was unheard of to become a faith based archetype two-to-three days after starting. Evelyn bit her boyfriend again to vent her frustration. "Stop that!" He laughed and pulled his hand away.
"Did you want to get some breakfast? Or start working on your archetype now?" She giggled, "Breakfast? Now? You realize it's probably still dark outside right?" Evelyn laid back on the bed and patted the spot next to her, "Just come lay down with me." He complied and once he laid down beside her, she rolled on top of him. She placed her head on his chest and closed her eyes while she listened to his heartbeat.
After a while of comfortable silence, Evelyn broke it, "Lucas…" She hesitated for a moment before she just said it before she could change her mind. "Can I come see you in person?" It would be expensive, but she could probably convince her dad to help. Evelyn could hear Lucas's heartbeat quicken and after a moment he responded, his voice soft and quiet as if he had not spoken in a long time. "Only if you marry me."
Evelyn lifted her head and looked into Lucas's eyes, "What did you say?" He sat up and held her hands. They trembled with a nervous energy, which betrayed the stoic look her boyfriend was giving her. He swallowed hard. "Will you marry me, Evelyn? I—"
"Yes." Tears trailed down her cheek, and she nodded her head, "Yes, dummy. Of course, I'll marry you." She grabbed Lucas's head and pulled him close to kiss him. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she held him close, praying that this was not a dream.