The sun had surrendered hours ago, surrendering the world to a starry night. Moonlight bathed the grassy plains in silver, turning every blade of grass into something ethereal. Creatures of the dark filled the air with rustles and calls, while fireflies drifted like living embers.
Tongues of fire danced up in the air from the modest campfire, as if trying to consume everything. Lancelot threw a stick to the hungry flames, consuming it greedily in an open embrace. The firelight danced gracefully across his emerald eyes, reflecting sparks that seemed almost alive.
His mind wandered far away, to grand quests, towering mountains, and the day he would stand above the greatest. He quickly killed that thought, careful to not get drunk on it.
He knew it was not going to be easy. The path wasn't easy and death was a more likely outcome than glory. Still, a smile crept on his face, determination burning like wildfire.
Trials, huh? It won't be long before I conquer this mountain.
Then, night grew quiet, only the crackling of the campfire that not only broke the silence but Lancelot's inner thoughts.
The lively sparks of fireflies seemed to have disappeared into thin air.
His heartbeat rapidly increased as the tension grew thick almost enough to cut with a knife. It was cold, however his body didn't seem to care, beads of sweat falling to the ground. Fear enveloped him like a blanket.
Lancelot was filled with dread, the familiar feeling getting a better grip on his mind.
The killing intent of a being.
Lancelot jumped to the side, daggers already in hand and turned to see his hostile friend. A rather pale-bluish man limped towards him, his clothes tattered and worn out. Parts of his flesh were slowly being devoured by maggots, his head being no exception. Its broken jaw swayed open, dripping black drool to the ground through its rotten teeth.
A ghoul.
Lancelot almost vomited due to the approaching scent of the decomposing creature. Luckily, his stomach was empty.
The creature suddenly stopped, gazing at the young man as if questioning whether to attack or not.
Well… I was NOT expecting the trials to start so soon. I didn't even hear its footsteps. Curse you fate!
Yet even at the face death decided to put on today, he couldn't help but smile at his first trial. Eyes burning brighter, consuming the fear he had.
"Come at me friend."
The creature broke free of its stiffness, swaying slightly before lunging at the boy. Lancelot cussed before rolling to the side, barely dodging the attack.
If his mothers stories were right, then he really didn't want to get scratched by those claws let alone getting touched by them.
Lancelot kept his eye on the creature, not wanting to let it out of its sight. The ghoul rose to its feet, twisting its head back to position with a sickening crack. The maggots in his head wriggled violently, causing it to shake in response.
Then, it faced its prey, the air around it changed. Its balance was now stable, slowly moving forward before lunging with greater speed.
Crap!
Lancelot was taken off guard, having no time to dodge. He placed his daggers in front of the impact, blocking the ghouls' attack successfully. The impact slightly pushed him back, almost losing his footing. He gripped his daggers tightly and deflected a barrage of scratches from the ghoul.
Curse those parasites! Adjusting their host's strength like it's nothing.
He swung his blades, clashing with the creature's claws, hoping that they wouldn't come in contact with his flesh.
Curses! It's not stopping.
Lancelot's muscles began to strain, the consecutive attacks started to overwhelm. The more he blocked, the more his body screamed from the blows the ghoul delivered. Sweat was dripping profusely from Lancelot's body.
You are just a rotting corpse! This strength is unnatural.
Lancelot cursed under his breath. He was getting cornered, his chances of survival shrinking down. No opening had presented itself, desperation threatening to take hold. Yet even under the gaze of death, he couldn't help but smile.
The thrill of the fight consumed him like an inferno.
I don't have to hold back… a fool I've been.
He timed the ghoul's slash and swung his blade at it with full force, parrying successfully and leaving the ghoul stunned for a heartbeat.
That was enough for Lancelot.
He kicked as hard as he could, planting his foot at the ghoul's chest. It lost its footing, flying several meters away.
The ghoul rose to its feet, trying to find balance. Twisting to meet its prey, a dagger was lodged deep into its head with a wet crack, pushing it back to the ground.
Struggling to react to the attack, Lancelot snatched his dagger and with even his full strength, stomped on its head. Its skull caved in, bursting open with a sickening crack that echoed to the lonely plains. Flesh and bones exploded, spreading all over the ground.
It went limp, the remaining life leaving its body.
Lancelot's breathing was heavy, each breath didn't seem to be enough. His muscles ached as if they were about to tear apart. The large burst of adrenaline was dropping, giving way to the pain to take place. The stench was suffocating, making his breathing even more taxing.
But he didn't care.
None of it mattered. He had just executed his first monster. He couldn't help but laugh… laugh as hard as he could under the bright moon's watchful gaze. It was a special moment for him and he wasn't going to let this go to waste.
The night was silent, even the crackles of fire seemed to have gone off. It was as if the world had held its breath, watching him keenly to what he would do, listening to what he was going to say.
Lancelot stepped aside and dropped his gaze to the ghoul. His smile was long gone and the air around seemed to go stiff.
"From the dust you were formed, to the dust you'll go back."
Then, with that, the corpse shook violently. Its body dissolved to dust, leaving its clothes on the floor.
The world seemed to let go of its held breath, apparently satisfied with Lancelot. The wind gracefully took the dust away to the open night sky as if the divines had accepted a sacrifice.
The creatures of the night could be heard once. The fireflies burst back to life as they occupied the sky. Lancelot could hear the flames of his campfire hiss once again. He smiled at his accomplishment, knowing that his journey up the mountain had started well.
Then came the stench that made him feel like vomiting once more. He glared at the spot where the corpse was, cursing at its incapability to resist turning into a ghoul. The smell was stuck to his clothes, irritating him even more. He wondered whether the ghoul was taking revenge beyond the grave… well beyond the sky anyway.
Curse you! Curse you to damnation. You and the one who birth- no, no. Let it go, Lancelot.
Lancelot squatted, searching the ghouls' clothes for anything useful. He found six gold coins and grinned, "what's a dead man going to do with money anyway."
He searched some more and found a folded piece of parchment. He unfolded it and read it through. It was a letter the man had apparently written to a woman he had fallen for and how he wishes to see her every day. It seems it wasn't able to reach its recipient.
Ha! Serves you right! However, the woman did nothing wrong…
He folded the letter and kept it in his back pocket before continuing his search. Displeased, he threw the clothes to the fire, feeding its hunger. Lancelot didn't even dare sniff his hands and dug up some dirt, rubbing it thoroughly.
"I'll need to wash myself." Lancelot sighed sadly.
Lancelot turned away when a faint pink shimmer caught his eye. Nestled in the grass where the ghoul had fallen lay a small, sharp crystal the size of a coin, pulsing with soft inner light.
He crouched, drawn to it against his will. The longer he stared, the more the world faded. Faint voices slithered into his mind — three distinct whispers overlapping like distorted echoes of his own voice.
"Three…"
They urged him. Devour it. Take what is yours.
A cold shiver ran down his spine. He snatched the crystal and shoved it into his pocket, breaking the trance with force of will.
Finding a good spot to sleep, he laid down to view the beautiful night sky.
"Soon," he whispered to the night, "we'll meet again."
His eyelids grew heavy and his surroundings seemed to fade away.
"I…hope tomorrow will be as eventful as today." He yawned.
Sleep claimed him, the distant sounds of chains being the last thing he heard.