A fire popped softly in a room, its flame barely larger than a candlestick. Charred remains of wooden shavings and charcoal littered the ground in a messy painting, as if an artist had splatted ink all over a canvas.
A man stood near the dying embers, dressed in a bloodied and torn black hoodie. It was missing its right arm, and the left sleeve was tattered. He wore dark, fitted trousers, reinforced at the knees. On his back hung a massive silver blade, thin as paper and sturdier than steel.
Leonidas started walking toward the entrance, hand on the sword sheath. He had woken up 15 minutes ago, and it was time to continue his journey.
Grumble—!
Leonidas moved his hand on his stomach, fingers caressing it softly as he thought about his situation. He hadn't eaten or drunk anything for the past 17 hours. On top of that, he had lost a shit-ton of blood, making him delirious.
At this point, he was seriously considering some rather...drastic measures.
Are trees edible?
No, but seriously, these trees must be partially edible, right? They look so appetizing.
Leonidas's stomach made weird noises just at the thought of eating something, but he, with great reluctance, pushed the thought down.
His shoulders slumped, and for the first time in 17 hours, Leonidas stepped into the outside world again. The chilling sound of a melodic flute being played entered his ears almost instantly, followed by a cold breeze, almost as if it were winter.
None of the damnable black rain was present, which was a plus in his godawful situation. Leonidas's eyes instinctively gazed at the pinwheel that sat in place of the sun, which was still completely pink. The last time it had changed colors, all hell had broken loose at the Scarlet Basins.
A cold shiver passed down his spine just thinking about the Pilgrims the basins had given birth to.
Positive thinking. Positive...
As if! It was near impossible to stay positive in a hostile environment, especially one as mental as the one he was in.
With his hysterical mind, Leonidas took heavy steps, slowly making his way to a point where the spire he was on met another. Having a clear goal helped steady the mind, and he was in desperate need of some mind steadying.
Soon enough, the trees surrounding him thinned and gave way to a massive gash carved into the very surface of the spire, as if some sort of colossal claw had struck the terrifying structure in rage.
Vivid imagination, exactly where all my focus should be. Truly wonderful.
Leonidas exhaled a self-deprecating laugh and focused his attention on the gash. It ran along both left and right, stretching miles upon miles, all the way to the very edge of what Leonidas could see.
A strange mist-like substance oozed out of the wound, yellow gas twisting and curling as if it were alive and being controlled by some unseen deity.
The howling sound of the flute did little to ease his worry. If anything, it gnawed on his mind, along with the fact that he had encountered nothing alive during his hike to this point.
Should I try to touch the mist that would most probably kill me in some way, or should I find a way around the ever-stretching ravine?
The answer was simple!
Leonidas pulled Blush—his pink sword—out of its scabbard without a sound and settled the blade in front of him. He moved his right leg backwards, and left leg forward, doing the same with his arm.
The stance looked solid at first glance...only that it wasn't. Leonidas was sure he wouldn't be able to hold it for more than a few minutes; after all, it was the complete opposite of what he was used to.
The first step.
The ground quaked slightly beneath his feet, pebbles rising off the ground for a good few seconds before gravity reclaimed them.
Second step.
His hair whipped, as if an invisible arrow moved across his face at immense speed.
Third step.
The mist curled open, no longer writhing tentacles, but instead a mouth shaped like a dragon's mouth, with air like teeth and a forked tongue slithering inwards.
Fourth step.
Leonidas was in stabbing range; he could touch Blush's edge to the fog mouth.
Fifth st—
Just before Leonidas could take the fifth step, something grabbed him by the collar and judo flipped him, slamming his back on the hard ground with a bone-breaking crack.
Wha...
He couldn't even form his own thoughts as a blade, black as the night sky itself, was touching his neck, drawing a thin line of blood. Leonidas's eyes traced the blade all the way to its wielder and a breathtaking sight revealed itself.
A woman stood above him, dressed in a glossy black metal armor that encased her like a carapace. Spiked dragon-shaped pauldrons dominated her shoulders, with matching sets of gauntlets encased her arms, and a chestpiece of a similar design covered her upper body.
Long raven hair cascaded down her back in waves, strands of hair lifted by the flute following wind. Eyes a similar hue stared down at Leonidas with unmistakable malice.
Who?
Before Leonidas could voice his thoughts, the woman spoke. Her voice was unnaturally soft and pleasing, but Leonidas knew better than to judge a book by its cover.
"Who are you? What are you? And what were you doing? You have three seconds to answer me before I cut your head off."
She spoke so fast Leonidas nearly missed half of what she said, but he managed to compose himself.
"Knight. Human. And trying to get out."
The woman's expression remained unchanged at his words, as if she had expected them. Though Leonidas doubted they didn't affect her at all.
Women are scary. Especially ones in armor
Like any half-sane person, Leonidas was scared shitless, but he didn't let it show on his face and waited for the woman's next question.
"What exactly is your name, knight, and are you insane? You certainly seem like it?"
The sword pressed deeper into his throat, drawing more than just a thin line of blood. "And don't even think about reaching for your swords, I'll cut your head off before you do. State your name and circle of affiliation."
She paused as if to let the word sink in, then continued, "Hesitate, and I'll cut your head off. Lie, and I'll stab you in the heart. Reach for your weapon again, and I'll make sure your permanently maimed."
Leonidas flinched at the last one. He didn't want to lose his only remaining arm, so he wisely told the truth.
"Insane...I might be a little insane, but hey, a mental patient doesn't know that they are mental, but I know, so I'm not insane."
"As for your other questions, I'm from the Circle Of Frost, and my name, crazy lady, is Art. Just Art."