The caravan rattled forward, wheels crunching over cracked cobblestones, almost swallowed by creeping vines. The ruins stretched out ahead like a festering wound—toppled statues lay half-buried in rubble, stone walls gouged with ancient scars, and the streets were choked with thorny overgrowth. Mist curled low in the hollows between buildings, obscuring any clear path.
Bari stood at the back of the caravan, crimson eyes narrowing against the thick dust and swirling wind. A dull hum pulsed in his mind—the pulse of the Nightmare Spell—awakening something deep inside, a thread of purpose wrapped tightly around his soul.
Ahead, the jagged silhouette of the Temple of the Heart God loomed atop the mountain peak, shrouded in swirling mist and shadow.
In the centre of the caravan, the child they escorted lay silent in a small palanquin. Her simple dagger rested across her lap—nothing remarkable. But to Bari's senses, the faint shimmer of divine blood around her radiated danger, a beacon that drew unseen eyes like moths to flame.
The tall, lean figure ahead spoke in a low whisper. "These ruins aren't empty. They're waiting, sprawling with nightmare creatures that are starving."
Yaru cracked her knuckles with a dangerous chuckle. "Then let's feed 'em something sharp."
Dren, quiet and watchful, barely spoke—his eyes constantly scanning the darkness.
Bari gripped the strap of his worn pack and the hilt of his blade, feeling the wind swirl faintly—a subtle invitation from his Aspect. He had no memory of this body's past, barely a grasp of himself, running on nothing but instinct and zero skill. If it wasn't for his aspect, granting him a minor sensory field in the winds, enabling him to react to attacks faster, he would be dead 10 times over by now.
Taking a deep breath, Bari steadied himself and focused on sharpening his will and mind.
As the sun bled purple and dark behind the mountains, the group moved silently through the twisted streets, stepping over fallen stones and broken timbers. Bari's breath came shallow, muscles aching, but his senses sharpened with every step.
Suddenly, movement flared from the shadows.
A low, swift shape with mottled grey skin and ragged fur leapt forward, snarling. Its claws aimed for Bari's throat.
Instinct roared.
Wind wrapped his sword like a cold blade of air, shimmering alongside the steel.
He swung.
Flesh tore open with a wet, sickening sound.
[You have slain a Dormant Beast, clawed one.]
The creature dissolved into smoke.
More poured forth—twisted, broken forms crawling from alleys and doorways. Larger beasts with malformed limbs and jagged teeth.
Bari fought on pure instinct, senses merging into one: the rush of adrenaline, the feel of wind, the smell of decay. Each strike flowed—wind and steel in deadly harmony. He barely thought and just acted.
Yaru's fists crushed bones with brutal precision; her spectral hawk, Echo, dove in rapid strikes.
Riven moved like a shadow, silent and deadly.
Dren darted through openings, his blows precise and calculated.
A massive beast with cracked, burning skin charged Bari. He twisted just in time to dodge a crushing claw. The creature roared, shaking the air.
The wind answered Bari's silent call, lifting him out of reach.
A crescent of cutting wind sliced through the beast's throat.
[You have slain an Awakened Monster, Ashen Claw.]
[You have received a memory]
It collapsed, howling in pain.
Pain flared as a sharp claw tore Bari's shoulder, shredding cloth and skin.
The wind wrapped tighter, cool and steady, bolstering his strength.
Bari's eyes widened as he felt the wind shift behind him at an incredible speed.
He ducked under a lunge, his arms bulging as his blade flashed with incredible speed.
The winds surged in one of Bari's largest wind crescents, cleaving the small dog-like creature in two.
[You have slain a Fallen Demon, Voidfang.]
[You have received a memory]
Shadows exploded from its form.
Bari staggered, breath ragged, but alive.
As dawn cracked the sky, the onslaught ceased.
The ruins fell silent, broken only by ragged breaths and the crackle of dying fires.
Bari knelt beside the palanquin.
The child's eyes fluttered open—wide, haunted, glowing faintly with divine light.
"Why do they hunt you?" Bari asked softly.
"Because of the Heart God's blood in me," she whispered. "It calls to them."
Bari's jaw tightened. This fragile child—so important—was the beacon that summoned the nightmare's monsters.
He looked away from pretending to be on the lookout as he gazed at his runes.
Name: Bari
Rank: Aspirant
Soul Core: Dormant
Aspect: Scent of Wind
Aspect Description: "Strong-willed are the winds, and so are you. You are able to manipulate the winds around you to a minor degree."
Attributes:
[Storm Kin][Strong Willed][Singularity][Traces of Divinity][Enhanced Perception]
Memories: - [Silent fang of the Fallen], [Lost Sack]
Echoes: -
True Name: -
He had gained 2 memories from the battle, his first memories to be received in this world; he hoped that they would be of value.
[Silent fang of the Fallen]:
[Memory Rank]: awakened
[Memory Description]: Made from the fangs of the Ashen Claw, this is a highly durable dagger.
[Lost Sack]:
[Memory Rank]: Fallen
[Memory Description]: A sack made out of the hide of a voidfang, being highly resistant. The sack can store a large amount of supplies; however, the weight shall also increase with that amount of supplies within.
To say Bari was happy was an understatement; he would be jumping and screaming if they were parley passing by the ruins without attracting all the bad attention.
The ruined city faded behind them as the caravan faced the long, narrow stone stairway spiralling up the mountain.
Bari flexed his fingers, feeling the wind's breath anew.