Head west, where the forest was thinner. That was what the old priest had told them, and sure enough, they did not walk long before the number of dead stumps that were scattered around increased. But there were no traces of trees toppling over near the stumps; it was as if the trunks and branches simply vanished. But it quickly became apparent that the priest hadn't told them the whole truth about this monster. The closer they got to it, the more Bastet felt like he was trespassing, or rather, that no human could belong here. A part of him still wished to deny its existence, but the inhuman evil shrouding this forest testified that the monster was here in all of its absurdity, and that it cared little of what reason deemed possible.
Bastet glanced at Lilian, who was shivering, pulling her ragged dress tighter around herself. "The… the hands…" she stammered, her eyes darting into the shadows, clearly still seeing the image of the centipede. "They were children's hands."
Bastet's jaw tightened. "I know. Just keep walking." He looked down at the bloody leg in his bag.
"It's much more likely that we are the meal it awaits," Lilian shivered.
A wave of cold dread washed over Bastet. She was right. Every instinct screamed at him to grab her and run, to disappear into the woods and never look back. But the priest's words had been a perfectly crafted trap, each one a link in a chain that was now wrapped around his will. If they ensured that the monster stayed fed, it would give the priest more time to find a way to tame it. And if he managed to tame it, then one day it would provide Wesia aid in the wars to come. Bastet cursed in his mind as he shuffled through his bag. "I have some fish on me. It's already starting to smell bad, but it should be good enough for a chaos beast to eat."
"To them, we are a delicacy rich with life force. After all, the whole universe is but one moment of man. Nothing else comes close in comparison."
Her words did little to soothe him. He was about to respond, but Bastet's tongue felt heavy and his voice got stuck in his throat. His hair stood on end, and he found it terribly difficult to look to his left, which is what his senses screamed at him to run away from. But Ariadne's oath overpowered his fear, and with the feeling of impending doom, he moved through the bushes. He kept a firm grip on Lilian's hand, his thumb pressing into her knuckles in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. He glanced at her, and she seemed out of breath.
At this point, he became aware of some external influence that meddled with his brain. His vision swirled and he got dizzy, but he managed to grab onto some branches to keep his balance. The pervading malevolence was getting thicker in the direction they headed, and it became apparent to them that nothing but malignancy may exist around this being, and that if they are to get any closer, they would have to let some insanity seep into them. It was then that the trees cleared, revealing a vast hole in the ground filled with darkness so black it felt unnatural. Yet something about it was strangely familiar, which made Bastet feel nauseous. This was no chaos beast, he was certain of it. It was a terror too grand to stay confined in nightmares, so inevitably it surfaced beyond them. Their legs brought them no closer. Bastet tried to steady his trembling hands and threw the priest's chopped leg forward, but his arms were limp and out of strength, so it landed close to the edge of the hole.
A long streak of darkness rose from the abyss like a tentacle. It slithered towards the leg, swirled around it, and dragged it in. Bastet turned and grabbed Lilian's hand. Before they could take a step, a shrill choir of children's voices rang from within their skulls.
You are not welcome here.
It was as if the world froze over. Bastet was paralyzed with fear, and he fell down on his knees "W-We come to pay respect!" he stuttered. "We bring a gift, from the priest!"
Bastet could see darkness slowly stretching to surround them. Do you serve the chaos priest?
"No," Bastet quickly yelled "We were merely doing him a favor!" With those words, the oppressive malevolent aura vanished. The shift was instantaneous and profoundly wrong. One moment, every nerve in Bastet's body was screaming at him to flee from what could only be an enemy of all living things. And next, there was… nothing. The fear was gone. Not lessened or pushed away, but surgically removed, leaving a calm, clean void where his terror should have been. It was the most unnatural feeling he had ever experienced. He looked at the writhing tentacles, the abyss of darkness, and felt no more fear than he would looking at a tree. The lack of fear was, in itself, deeply unsettling.
The priest wants to bind me, dominate me, but he is mistaken. I serve only the Chaos God of Insanity. The tentacles writhed about at his mention, and it seemed like even more children's voices joined the choir. This land is unstable. The laws of the world are broken. I devour what is corrupted so that decay does not spread. I wish to save this world from falling apart. As it spoke, a long streak of darkness shot out and touched a nearby tree, one whose bark was sickly and peeling. The tree did not snap or break. It instantly withered, collapsing into a pile of black dust that was then drawn into the abyss.
Bastet, his face pale in the eerie light, lifted his head. His voice was thin and trembled slightly, but his words were sharp and precise. "You devour corruption," he said. "But what are you, if not part of it?"
But all of the voices replied with a different answer to his question. I am the bringer of folly. The one who clouds your judgement when you dream. The bane of the old, the rashness of the enamored. I am decay of the mind.
As the voices whispered, the world warped for a sickening moment. Bastet felt the hard ground beneath his knees ripple as if it were water. He glanced at the sword in his hand and for a split second, the steel blade seemed to sag like melting wax before snapping back to solid form. The feeling passed in an instant.
Lilian's bottom lip quivered. She had to pause, as primal dread still coiled deep within her, despite the magical calm. "Why is a servant of a Chaos God trying to stop decay? Is that not something you take pleasure in observing instead?"
The voices laughed, a sound like breaking glass inside their skulls. As they did, a shimmering illusion of Maria appeared before them, a crown of wildflowers in her hair. Bastet's breath caught in his throat. Her lips parted with a familiar, warm smile. "I'm so happy you're looking for me," she said, her voice the sound of a half-forgotten song. She spread her arms and ran toward him. Every instinct, every fiber of his being, screamed with a hope so painful it was an agony in itself. His own arms, clumsy and trembling, rose to meet her. He closed them around her, pulling her tight against his chest, burying his face in the space between her neck and shoulder. But there was nothing there. He felt no warmth. It was like embracing a column of cold air. A voice, her voice, whispered directly into his ear. "Let my appearance be the first clue of your search."
He pulled back, his eyes wide with confusion, as the warm smile on her face twisted with agony. The image of her shattered into countless biting flies that swarmed around him, before dissolving into nothing. The shrill choir of voices returned with a terrible laugh.
Make no mistake, human. It is amusing watching you struggle in your sleep, lost in the absurdity of your dreams, so helpless to uncover that it is all a lie. But madness must remain false in order to be mad. What would happen in a world that decayed to be just as absurd? What even is insanity, in a world not governed by reason? The game would end. We devour decay, so that the game may continue.
Bastet swallowed, the vision of Maria still vivid in his mind. He did not understand the clue, but he did not dare dismiss the Baron's claim.
But the priest is restraining me, limiting my power. All I can do is slowly devour this forest, tree by tree. At that pace I will never succeed. Your world will perish, and so will I with it. The voices fell silent, and out of the hole climbed a young boy with blond hair, dressed in a long white tunic. His skin was glistening like moonlight, and his eyes were bright blue. The voices unified into one "So, help me. You are the only ones who can save this world. Kill the priest who dared to insult me, and free me from his shackles."
Bastet stepped back, finding it difficult to endure his gaze. It was heavy. For the first time, he thought, he felt lucky that Ariadne's oath had him cornered. "He's supplying Wesia with chaos beasts, and preventing the decay from spreading. Killing him would hurt their cause. We can't do it."
"If a Chaos Baron came out of his temple once, it is just a matter of time until it happens again." The boy smiled. "And I assure you, there are not many of us who wish to fix the world, rather than destroy it. If you do not stop his efforts, only doom awaits."
Bastet felt a chill run up his spine. If another monster like this turned on them, who would possibly be able to stop it? He waited, but Ariadne's oath did not force his choice. He swallowed hard. Making choices was far more difficult than he realized. As he hesitated, it was Lilian who spoke up first. "You serve a Chaos God. Almost every book ever written on the subject warns not to trust you."
"Chaos Gods are evil, and humans are good?" The boy smiled and clasped his hands together. "Surely you know it's not that simple. We all do what we have to, for our own reasons. And I've already uncovered mine." The slow parting of his hands revealed the hilt of a strange and unsettling weapon. The grip was made of a smooth, pale material that might have been bone. The crossguard was a loop of dark, twisted metal that seemed to fold in on itself in an impossible way. In its center, where a gemstone might be, was a polished orb of black stone that reflected Bastet's own face, warped and distorted. The blade itself was a shard of darkness, its edges seeming to shimmer and blur, making it difficult to focus on.
He approached Bastet. "Many chaos beasts squirm in his temple. You will need more than courage to face them." He offered the strange weapon. "This is my gift to you. Folly's Edge." He turned towards Lilian and reached under his tunic. "And for the girl, a grimoire, with my own authority. It will devour a lesser madness."
A black mist enveloped Bastet's forearm while he held the sword. Were these truly gifts? But even while weakened, the being was far too powerful to resist in any meaningful way. Would it even accept no for an answer? If it bore such hostility towards the priest, how would it react if they refused its request? The decay of mind, the bringer of folly… Could they even say no, or would it alter their minds with false reasons that would make them do its bidding? Lilian seemed to know more about it than he did. But it was dangerous to have her speak of it here. Bastet appeared to hesitate before Lilian squeezed his hand. He looked in her eyes, and saw she understood."We will take your request. We will talk with the priest and demand he sets you free."
"Talk? No, the priest must die." The boy tilted his head. "And you must understand, I cannot allow both of you to leave this place. You are my only hope, so I require a guarantee before I let you go." He smiled. "The girl stays."
Bastet's teeth clattered. He promised he would look after her. "No… We go together, or we don't go at all." He moved in front of her. He had to think of an excuse. "I know too little. The priest will run circles around me if I talk to him on my own. He will convince me that it is right to spare him, and the oath that binds me will make me unable to lift a finger against him. And if you make me stay instead of her, Lilian can't kill him on her own. You have to let us both go."
The boy didn't even blink. It seemed like this was exactly what he expected would happen. He spread his arms and declared, "Then swear an oath to me. Prove that you will do my bidding." Bastet was at a loss for words, and an eerie silence filled the forest. Even if it had noble intentions, this was not a being he wanted to be bound to.
"If… If you've been truthful, you are in no position to make such demands. Without us, your fate is sealed." Lilian balled up her fists. "And if you haven't been so truthful, then it would be a grave mistake to ever set you free."
The boy's smile did not fade, but it became fixed and empty. For a split second, the glistening moonlight of his skin seemed to flicker, revealing an absolute, starless darkness beneath. The choir of children's voices overlapped in a whisper that was not a word but the pure concept of erasure. Then, the light returned to his eyes. The smile became genuine again. "So be it," the boy said, his voice now holding a new, chilling sweetness. "You may leave."