Aether Nexus: Curse of Love & Hatred

In a dimly lit corridor of an island-bound fortress, a calm, yet stern, voice reverberated off the frigid stone walls. The very same walls that were lined with the mangled corpses of multiple cloaked guards. "Care to explain yourselves, Captain Bacho and Munia?"

The mentioned pair consisted of two individuals. One was a tall and lean man named Bacho. His straight, blue-green hair and slightly tanned skin were the only features not obscured by his black cloak, of which hid his trembling well. Cowering in fear behind Bacho was Munia, a short woman with long, amber hair. Her fear, however, was on full display.

Both fidgeted anxiously as they stared into the dark abyss where the voice originated. Attempting to explain, they managed only fragmented, nervous stutters. Stutters that were silenced by the herald of advancing footsteps towards them.

“Don't make me ask you again. How did you and your personnel..." The stern voice's owner said as they stepped into view. "Let. Her. Escape.” The dim light from the torches only revealed their gold-lined black cloak and gold amulet. Bacho could almost hear the screaming of the damned from within the black crystal embedded in the center.

Munia desperately pleaded her alibi. “P-Please understand Director Tehew, w-w-we did everything up to standard to contain her, but s-she did something to the two guards on rotation! When someone else came to check on them, their bodies were covered head-to-toe with bite marks! N-Not only that, but right beside their bodies and all over her room were an abundance of dead ra-!”

“So you're telling me she commanded rats to attack the guards?” Tehew's voice condescendingly expressed, cutting off Munia.

“I–I… I…” Munia could only stutter, her amber eyes filled to the brim with tears and pale face turning sickly blue, as she knew her fate if she answered wrong. The air thickened with tension as each advancing step echoed through the silent dungeon.

“How about your answer, Bacho?”

Gulping what felt like a gallon of saliva, Bacho dropped to one knee and gave his statement. “Ahem… Sir Tehew… M-Munia speaks the truth. I was there when their screams were heard down beside her cell. We rushed down into the dungeons as fast as we could, but by the time we got to them, they were being swarmed and mauled by cadaverous rats. For…” Bacho gulped again, “For how she escaped… We found a hole leading to the outside. It’s my belief she somehow controlled the rats to dig an escape route. Most likely the works of an awakened Soulful or Cursed Technique… I s-swear, that is the entire truth…”

Tehew stopped in his tracks. “Do you two even know who she is directly descended from?”

Bacho attempted to answer, but all that emerged were faltering breaths, as he knew the answer would only confirm how much they screwed up. Eventually, Munia managed to stammer out the answer. “G-Giona Tamaki, s-sir…”

“Giona Tamaki, not only the first witch, but the most formidable of them all in Eranovum's history. Her blood may run through every witch that came after her, but that girl’s bloodline was the purest we’ve ever encountered. Yet, you let her get away…” Tehew's sneer deepened. His black hooded cloak seemingly lifted by an enigmatic aura emanating from every surface of his body, as if his rage was taking on a tangible form.

Bacho immediately jolted up straight in fear, allowing Munia to hide behind him again. “D-D-Director Tehew! Bacho and I will go and find her, I swear! Whatever it takes! I beg... Please give us the chance to prove ourselves!”

Considering his options, Tehew sighed, the aura he emitted vanishing in an instant. “Alright… I’ll give you this one chance to correct this mistake. Though, please don't confuse it for the the goodness in my heart. It's only because I was able to make an intrigruing discovery thanks to the experiments with her.” Looking up with the biggest smile on his face, Tehew continued. “If I hadn’t, you two would have already been dog food for my friends.”

Dropping to her knees, Munia sat on her hands coughing and gasping for air. The consequences of holding her breath for the past few minutes finally caught up with her. “T... T-Thank you, Director! This place is in the middle of Aseria Ocean, s-she couldn’t have gotten far...” Munia said through ragged breaths.

Bacho himself sighed in relief as he realized both he and Munia avoided certain demise.

Pleased with their fear-induced response and submissive loyalty, Tehew smirked and turned his back, walking deeper into the darkness of the corridor.

Lifting a trembling Munia to her feet, Bacho hurriedly heaved her towards the corridor’s exit. Each mutilated corpse they stepped over reminding them of their grim fate should they fail.

“Oh, you two, one more thing…”

Bacho and Munia froze yet again in their steps. They didn't even need to turn around to know the exact image behind them, the murderous intent they felt alone painted a vivid picture. Tehew was slightly turned to his left, his left eye gleaming a blood lusted red. Soon after, numerous shadowy figures of various shapes, sizes, and weapons appeared behind him, desperately awaiting for the command to rip and tear.

“Don't dare come back here until you've found her—Do I make myself clear?” Tehew threateningly asserted. With a snap of his fingers, the shadowy figures behind him all roared and launched themselves down the hallway.

Without hesitation, Bacho scooped up Munia and ran as fast as he could. His eyes reflected nothing but absolute fear. Fear that was justified from the sounds of gnashing teeth, breaking bones, and tearing flesh behind him.

-

That same night, in the heart of the bustling Reaon Kingdom, it was alive with revelry and merriment within a lively tavern. The air hummed with laughter, clinking tankards, and the harmonious tunes of a group of minstrels' lutes.

“Yo Alaric! Another cup for me and my newfound beastman friend over here!!”

“Oy, we need a table full of drinks over here too!”

“Don’t forget about us, Alaric!”

Amidst the jovial chatter, the bartender, a seasoned individual named Alaric Benom, swiftly maneuvered behind the counter, pouring and serving drinks with keen precision amongst the thirsty crowd. He wore a simple brown bartender outfit, including an apron. His messy red mullet and strapping face attracted many, despite only being seventeen. As he catered to the boisterous patrons, a humble smile etched itself onto his face.

However, outside the bustling tavern, in the dead of night and silence of the surrounding streets, a lone man stood. He wore a dusty gray mantle, carried various arcane rods on his back, and a large, gray worm-like creature coiled around his shoulders. The shadows seemed to not only conceal his features, but even follow him as he stepped forward.

As Alaric returned behind the counter, drying a glass mug with a cleaning rag, he noticed out of the corner of his eye the enigmatic man at the entrance. Preparing to greet the new customer, an unsettling sensation washed over him. A sensation that would soon be justified as the enigmatic man took his first step into the tavern.

Once one foot stepped inside, a subtle ripple of magic unleashed from the point of impact, unseen by most. Alaric though was an exception, mentally raising his guard in response.

At the same time, one of the arcane wands on his back began to glow, and one by one, the patrons slumped in their seats. Lively chatter faded into soft snores, tankards slipped from drowsy fingers, and a peaceful silence soon fell into place. Only Alaric was untouched by the spell, his gaze fixed on the one behind it all.

The stranger moved without even the slightest hint of hesitation among the slumbering revelers, as if he was some ghoul. He exuded such a menacing presence to the point Alaric subconsciously stepped back towards the barrister bookcase, bumping into it. The resulting ringing of glass bottles ominously chimed in tune with the approaching stranger.

Stopping in front of the bar, the man spoke, his voice deep and determined. “Be not afraid. Once I get what I need, I’ll leave.”

Alaric dipped his head in nervous consideration, his fiery red eyes burning through the bangs of his hair. “So you need something from here—or rather, from me... Why else would you put everyone else to sleep.”

The man didn’t respond, only reaching into the collar of his black shirt beneath his gray mantle. Revealing to Alaric a worm-shaped mark on his left collarbone, he pulled out a folded piece of paper and placed it on the counter. Sliding it further, the man took his left index finger and traced a sigil above the paper, as if the air was a blank canvas. The action prompted the piece of paper to unfold itself, making a symbol appear upon its surface: One big circle with another orb-like object in the middle. A tail-like protrusion sprouted from the bottom right, with a dot in the center of said orb finished the symbol.

It was a symbol Alaric tried his damnedest to forget. The Soul Divination Council's Insignia.

A long pause settled in the tavern, a pause eventually broken by a stern Alaric. “How did you find me…” He growled through gritted teeth.

“Skarlet... A common friend between us, you could say."

"Skarlet!?" Alaric thought to himself, shocked at hearing that name. Thinking about it some more, he straightened back up. “The Soul Divination Council… You want information…”

“All the information you have.”

Alaric clenched his teeth as he tried to muster the courage to respond. Yet, even though he hadn't heard of, or rather, avoided them for years, he could still faintly feel their grip over his very soul.

The mysterious man, with an accompanying set of goals, noticed and reassured Alaric. “It's alright. There are no listening ears around here.”

“How can you be so… I see, this odd pressure... Soul Amplification: Extension…”

“You know about Soul Amplification? Hm… Seems I was right to seek you out—Alaric Benom.”

“Tch... Look, I used to be a child assassin trained by an organization beneath the Council. Metaphorically… and literally.”

“The Nightstalkers... Black cloaks.”

“Yeah..." Alaric sighed, trying to calm his nerves enough to speak. "It was a miracle I even escaped from that damned group. Anyways, when it comes to locations, they have multiple. Labyrinths, fortresses, and bases, all of which they can move via the Soulful Technique of one of the chairmen. There are five chairmen in total, and the four main factions of the Council, the Nightstalkers being one of them, serve under them. Other than that, I have nothing short of unconfirmed rumors at best, misleading facts at worst.”

“I'm fine with any other information you can provide…”

“I… I don't… Fuck… Look, I may have heard where one of their bases might be—North-East from here, where the Aserian Ocean is. I've heard talk of a mysterious island sometimes seen in the middle of that vast ocean, blocked by a thick haze. Whoever tries to investigate it—never come back.”

Another awkward and long pause filled the air. Alaric’s brow furrowed as he tried to study the man’s obscured face out of morbid curiosity. The only thing he came up though were more questions.

Finally, the cloaked man slid some currency onto the counter. “Thank you, my friend.” Escaped his lips before he turned, walking towards the entrance of the tavern.

“Holy—This is an absurd amount of money! Most could never make this in their lifetime!" Alaric thought before looking back up at the departing man, gritting his teeth once again. "There’s no point in me asking why you want to meddle in the business of the Soul Divination Council, is there?” He blurted out, causing the man to stop in his tracks.

As the moments between mere seconds seemed to grow larger, Alaric sensed an increasingly thickening tension in the air. Brushing it off as typical discomfort in an awkward moment at first, he soon realized it was something else.

When the man turned around in response, a gray enigmatic aura soon started to spill from his entire body. The aura casted a faint glow around him and caused any loose clothing to levitate, including his hood, revealing only a glimpse of the man's toned complexion and dark lips.

“What the hell!? This pressure! H-How strong is he!?”

“The Soul Divination Council are messing with things that they cannot control—Things that will cause a disaster for us all. A war the likes of the Holy Catalyst War a millennia ago may ravage the entirety of Eranovum in due time." The man said, the aura he expelled slowly fading in intensity as he continued walking. "I will try my best to stop it before it takes place, but I very well may be too late and the wheel of fate has already been set in motion...”

Exiting the tavern, the man vanished without a trace, swallowed by a sudden gust of wind, leaving behind only haunting words that echoed solely for Alaric to hear. “Be warned, Alaric Benom. For when someone takes the dare to love, they also take the risk to bear the ‘Curse of Hatred’. Especially when those who so callously destroy and take from others are the most ignorant of this consequence…”

One by one, the patrons of the tavern groggily sat up from their forced slumber, all of them none the wiser. As the whispers and questions started to pour in, Alaric could only stand there, contemplating such a foreboding encounter. “That worm thing on his shoulders, the mark on his left collarbone, not to mention that tense soulura pressure… He… There’s no way he’s a...!”

-

"What the...?"

At a stone river bank was a boy and his two animal companions—filled with stuffing. The boy wore a green cotton sweater, complimenting his own green hair, with brown slacks. Most notable feature however would be his absent right arm, allowing for his right sleeve to billow freely in the wind.

The two animal companions behind him were in the visage of a fox and a bipedal bear, both of which towered over the boy in comparison. Their green, pillowy bodies were adorned all over with blue spiral patterns and stitching.

In front of them was a sight the boy never would have imagined coming across amongst his many hikes down the mountain—a petite girl, draped in a drenched and drab green cloth, lying motionless on the rocky shore.

Kneeling down beside her, he hesitated before making his first move. "I… I don't know what to do… L-Let me just make sure she's not an Enohay villa—!" Brushing the long and disheveled blonde hair out the way, her marred face came into view, shocking the boy to his core.

"Oh… Oh my—!" His voice came out hoarse, laddened with fear. "He-Her face, it's swollen! So many bruises and open sores, she’s in very bad shape… Who could have done this to her!?" He frantically thought as he examined her up and down, noticing that even her legs had numerous scrapes and dried blood running down her thighs.

Wanting to see the full extent of her damage, he lifted her cloak, only to be met with no other clothing protecting her bare body. The boy took a split second to register what he had done and freaked out. Only for a moment though, as the utter shock of what he saw quickly overtook his embarrassment.

Her entire body was dotted with untreated bruises and cuts—indicative of abuse. Her exposed ribcage cemented her poor condition. She also had one very peculiar mark on her left collarbone in the form of two intertwined black crescent moons. It was obvious to him most—if not all—of these conditions were not natural, they were all man-made.

As the boy stared at the poor girl's current state, his face became redder and redder. Not out of embarrassment though, but out of boiling anger. So many thoughts and questions raced through his head, he simply couldn't fathom why someone would do such a thing to another human being.

Finally snapping out of his shell-shock, he tried to wake her up and get some answers. "Hello, miss!? Are you okay!? Who did this to you!?"

The girl, however, remained unresponsive to his calls.

"Oh no…" He thought before checking for her breathing. "She's breathing at least—but it's faint! I have to get her some aid immediately, but Enohay Village is still a long way down. There's no telling how long she has left, or even if the ones who did this to her are currently nearby…" Taking a moment to weigh his options, the boy turned to his two stuffed companions. "Mumu! Nina! Help me carry her back to the cabin!"