Omaar's vision faded as he slumped against the cavern wall, memories of his childhood surfacing.
In the dense evergreen woods, three children trailed each other, foraging through bushes and dodging obstacles, chatting lively. Omaar led the way, Tengune followed, and Remina trailed behind.
"Omaar," Tengune pleaded, "how far do we have to go?"
"Just far enough to find that flower," Omaar answered, wielding a stick to clear the path. "It's her birthday, after all."
"Surely any flower would do," Remina smiled.
"No, it has to be special," Omaar smirked. "Only the best for her."
"Can we at least be back before sundown?" Tengune sighed.
"You're free to leave, coward," Omaar laughed.
"That's not nice, Omaar," Remina scolded, snatching the stick from him. Omaar glanced at Tengune's sad expression as he pouted, arms folded. "Sorry, okay?" Omaar apologized. Remina nodded, her expression lifting, but she tripped over a rock, falling with a heavy thud.
"Are you alright?" Omaar asked, rushing to help her up.
"I think I twisted my ankle," Remina grimaced.
"We should turn back," Tengune frowned, inspecting her ankle.
"Or we could carry her," Omaar suggested.
"I'm fine, I can walk," Remina affirmed, hiding a grimace as her feet wobbled.
"Who's carrying her first?" Omaar smiled.
"Since this was your idea…" Tengune smirked.
Omaar sighed, crouching for Remina to climb onto his back. She put up a fuss but clambered on, and they continued. Soon, Omaar's arms grew heavy.
"Tengune, your turn," he panted. "I can't take this anymore."
"Are you calling me fat?" Remina growled.
"Yes," Omaar smirked. Remina pounded his head relentlessly, and Omaar howled in pain. Tengune took her onto his back as Omaar stretched with relief. Suddenly, leaves rustled unnaturally in the silence. A woman emerged from behind a tree, slowly approaching the children. Her smooth, bark-like skin was draped in black robes, a cloak of white feathers, and a pointed black hat. The children shrank back as she knelt, her hand flicking out. A force yanked Omaar into her clutches. She traced strange shapes with her hands, tapping his forehead, and he fell asleep.
Tengune set Remina down and charged, but a flick of the woman's hand sent him crashing into a tree. She rose, a knowing smirk curling her lips as she gazed at Tengune before vanishing into a thick forest mist. Tengune stumbled to his feet, and Remina limped to help. Panting and panicked, they rushed to Omaar's home, banging on the door.
Grey opened it, raising a brow. "What is it? Where's Omaar?"
The children stumbled over their words, gesturing wildly. Hansi emerged from the garden, removing her gloves and kneeling with a chuckle. "Alright, one at a time."
Tengune motioned for Remina. "There was a woman in the forest," Remina said. "She had a big black cloak and a huge hat. She took Omaar."
Hansi's eyes widened as blue tattoos in the shapes of flowers manifested on her skin. She bolted from the house, a gale nearly knocking the children over. Grey sighed, grabbing a dagger from an ornate box. "Wait here," he said, following Hansi's trail.
Through the lush woods, Grey passed the corpse of a rune bear, its neck snapped, stomach torn open, unfazed as he tracked Hansi. She plunged into a dense fog, moving cautiously through the eerie silence.
"So you've come," a woman's voice laughed, echoing from all directions. "I expected your husband."
"Where's my son?" Hansi growled.
"Safe, sound, asleep," the woman assured.
"Who sent you, vile witch?" Hansi shouted, head snapping about. "And how did you know?"
"So many questions, so little time," the witch giggled, her tone joyous. "Two questions, two answers. All good things come in pairs, after all."
"Answer me!" Hansi snapped.
"Question one," the witch said playfully. "Your god is unhappy. You abandoned your home and kin, mocking the moon for a man and birthing a sin."
"Coward!" Hansi howled. "I found something worth living for."
"But at what cost?" the witch chuckled. "The curse of man is the greatest evil."
"Face me!" Hansi yelled, toppling a tree with a swift kick.
"Question two," the witch continued. "I'm a witch, darling; I know everything."
"Show yourself!" Hansi hissed, felling another tree.
"Up here, darling," the witch smiled. Hansi looked up to see her atop a high branch, Omaar dangling unconscious above. Tears in her eyes, Hansi glared. "To be graced by the queen of the coven herself," she growled. "I hope this is a trick, Clouise."
"No tricks here," Clouise laughed. "Your son is as good as dead."
Hansi leapt, crashing toward Omaar, but Clouise pulled him into her clutches. Hansi darted off a tree, nearly ramming Clouise, who hoisted Omaar as a shield. "Coward, put him down!" Hansi screamed, narrowly avoiding him.
Clouise wove runes, creating a well of heavy gravity. Hansi strained against the crushing force. Clouise refocused, burning runes onto Omaar's chest. "Phew," she smirked. "Might be my finest work."
Clouise glanced back, spotting Grey's menacing aura. Hansi seized the moment, leaping from the gravity well to snatch Omaar, sliding past. Clouise sighed, hands raised. "I thought I had more time. Be careful. Death marks are incredibly volatile—"
A swift cut to her neck, and the clone dispersed into dancing feathers, drifting away. Grey approached Hansi, who clutched Omaar, crying.
"Take care," Grey cautioned. "She could have more clones about."
"Look at him, Grey," Hansi snapped. Grey knelt, inspecting the sizzling, pulsing death mark. He tried to touch it, but a force repelled his hand, burning his fingertips.
"Let's take him back," Grey affirmed. Hansi nodded, wiping her tears. Hansi carried Omaar through the woods, her steps heavy, as they returned to their wooden garden home. Hansi and Grey piled books around Omaar, laid down on a rug. Tengune and Remina were sent away as they worked to undo the mark sewn into his chest. Day after day, no progress came. Hansi bawled, punching the floor. "I can't do it, Grey," she cried. "Layers and layers, I can't break this."
"I can find someone who can," Grey said.
"No, you're the only reason they haven't stormed this place," Hansi pleaded.
"Then eat," Grey smiled. "It's been three days, and you're no use dead." She reluctantly took the plate, eating as they watched Omaar.
In Omaar's mind, a swarm of lives unfolded. Lives upon past lives. White crows cawed, a soothing melody his only companion. Omaar reeled, the melody deafening. In one life, he darted through the evergreen, only to be blown back, his chest hollowed. In another, he fell off a cliff, impaled through the chest by sharp rock. In another, friends stabbed him in the back through his chest. In another, he killed his mother and father, only to die by a shadowed figure's hand. In the next, his parents strangled him. Always cloaked in shadow. Always out of reach. Every life ended in swift death, only to start another. Again and again. Death after death. Omaar lay asleep for a year, trapped in his mind's prison, until, after slaughtering his village, he died again.
He woke at home, surrounded by his parents. His eyes widened, and he lunged at Hansi. She dodged, restraining him, holding him tight. "It's okay, Omaar," she cried. "It's me, you're safe."
Grey smiled at an elf of fair skin, draped in luxurious garments, with purple eyes and golden freckles. "Thank you for your help, Lurio," he said.
"I'll put it on your tab," Lurio frowned, turning to leave. "Always something stupid to drag me into."
"If you don't mind, I've got another request," Grey smirked.
"What?" Lurio hissed, folding his arms. "I'm charging extra."
"Can you teach that beastman magic?" Grey smiled. "His name is Tengune."
"You're not serious," Lurio laughed. "Beastmen aren't great with magic."
"I know," Grey affirmed, "but you'll find he has potential."
"If I miss Eldurado's Grand Prix," Lurio hissed, turning to leave, "it'll be your head."
Omaar stirred, eyes cold and hollow, empty of the life they once held as Hansi wiped her tears. He stared at Grey, then at the mark on his chest. "Father, I have this ma-" The mark burned, searing his chest, as he screamed and fell unconscious. Hansi caught him.
"Grey, what happened?" she cried.
"Lurio was right," Grey pondered, kneeling to inspect the mark. "He can't even speak of it. She was thorough." They let him rest as Omaar's mind swirled, running through a sea of white crows, no end in sight, seeing that cloaked woman again. As he approached, a force blew him back, revealing the void in his chest. He woke. Every day, in a land of dreams, death haunted him. Every day, those crows followed, the melody ringing as he lived. Every moment, death clawed at his heels. Yet he survived. Yet I'm alive.
An ant pounced on Omaar, but in a flash, its head was severed, green blood spraying, showering Omaar. He stood, drenched in green, running his hands through his hair, a smirk curling his lips as another ant slammed the ground with a splash. Omaar was gone. The ant's head snapped back and forth, only to be cleaved and decapitated. One after another, monsters lunged at the party, their heads swiftly vanishing. An ant charged Kamitafa, its arm cleaved mid-swing, its head meeting the same fate.
"Wow," Kamitafa gasped as she watched the ants drop like flies. "I can't even see him." Jessie shoots another ant and it pauses, unable to hurl its acid. Omaar observes its effect before splitting its head.
"I've walked, ran, and fought with death knocking," Omaar smirked, gliding unseen as the glowing blue water washed away the thick blood clinging to him. Flames, water, blades, and bullets flew past. "Yet it could not take me, for I am fate's greatest rebel." An ant leapt behind Miograce. She scoffed, annoyed, pushing Jessie aside and dodging its strikes. Omaar appeared behind her, smiling. "Duck," he said. Miograce dodged as he cleaved the ant's head, slicing a fragment of her hair.
The ants' scuttling faded into the tunnels. The party regrouped, panting, as green blood pooled in the glowing water. Omaar and Miograce locked eyes.
"Oh," Omaar chuckled, eerily close, "won't you heal me, priest?"
Her eyes narrowed as she smiled, clasping her hands. A golden aura flared, healing Omaar's arm and body to prime form. "Such strong divine magic," Omaar smirked, the tick-tock pounding in his skull. "Pray it doesn't bite you one day."
Omaar walked off. Miograce stood, glaring, aggressively biting her nail as crows cawed in laughter above. The melody spiked in Miograce's head as she glared. She smirked, joining the seven.
"Jessie, what is that weapon?" Kamitafa gasped. "You were amazing!"
"It's nothing, really," Jessie smiled sheepishly.
"Indeed, her help was vital," Hemphie agreed.
Jessie blushed, deflecting compliments as Miograce approached. "I'd never have imagined you'd wield a Valkyrie," Miograce smiled. "May I take a look?"
Jessie stumbled over her words, searching for an excuse. Omaar stepped behind her, leaning close, his whisper sharp in her ear. Miograce watched, breathing deeply. Tengune and the goblins called for them to move on.
"Sorry, it's just—the Valkyrie's quite unstable," Jessie laughed nervously. "I'll show it when it's fixed."
as they chatted eyes narrowing as melody continued its endless humm. party regrouped, the damp cave air clinging to their skin, footsteps echoing through the narrowing corridor.
"The village is just down this path," Hemphie explained, "though it's a bit of a long walk." Light flickered from his fingers, casting soft beams ahead as he led the way.
"Once there, we can eat and rest," Kamitafa smiled. "We could use it after that fight."
Everyone nodded, pressing forward. Miograce approached Kokutafa, leaning in close, her voice a low murmur. A faint glow pulsed in the palm of her hand as he held it out in front of her. Kokutafa's eyes narrowed, her lip curling in disdain as she glanced at Omaar, her fingers tightening on her chain-linked daggers. Miograce's smile widened, her palm glow intensifying as she continued their hushed talk. Omaar watched, as they chatted, his eyes narrowing as the melody continued its endless hum. His gaze shifted to Jessie, who bantered lightly with Kamitafa, her eyes fixed ahead. Tengune and Hemphie led the way, debating magic, their voices mingling with the cave's trickle.
Kokutafa's shoulders stiffened, her glare lingering on Omaar, who lagged behind, his expression guarded. Miograce leaned closer, her whisper sharp, and Kokutafa's jaw clenched, a flicker of contempt crossing her face. Hemphie's light grew brighter, revealing the sprawling cavern housing the goblin village, its lights twinkling like stars. The party gasped, stepping into the glow.
The village was densely packed, homes, markets, and parks nestled in a garden of luminescent flowers and fungi, their sweet scent mingling with damp air. Mana crystals scattered across the cave's ceiling, a massive one glowing at the center. Trees with blue leaves bearing strange yellow fruit lined the west. Crumbled stone pillars and constructs of a time long past dotted the area. As the party approached, goblins, hobgoblins, and their children formed a crowd around them.
A muscular hobgoblin with short hair stepped forward, gripping a spear. "I wasn't expecting you to bring guests," the goblin growled, sizing up the party. "What's the meaning of this?"
"Sorry, Thorren," Kamitafa apologized. "It was a decision we thought best in the moment."
"These are envoys sent by the elven village," Hemphie explained. "If all goes well, we'll have, at least, talk of peace."
"All this for chatter and no action," Thorren sighed, eyes fixing on Tengune. "As long as they don't cause trouble."
Kamitafa smiled and turned to the party. "We'll rest for now," she grinned. "Take a look around. If you're hungry, head there." She pointed to a large wooden building on the east side. The party nodded and began to split. Thorren approached Tengune, leaning in with a puzzled look. "And what manner of creature are you?" he asked.
"Oh, well, I'm a beastman," Tengune smiled sheepishly.
"Oh, really?" Thorren smirked. "I thought beastmen only had one head."
"Apparently I'm the exception," Tengune laughed. "Who might you be?"
"I'm Thorren," he smiled. "I oversee this village. I'm also the village blacksmith."
"He crafted our weapons," Kamitafa added with a grin.
Tengune's eyes lit up as he grabbed Thorren's hand and shook it. "It's an absolute honor," he exclaimed. "Your work is incredible. I'd love to learn the runes you used."
Thorren laughed as goblins gathered around Tengune, asking a mountain of questions. Tengune tried to smile through the barrage. Jessie watched a group of goblins struggle to raise a wooden beam for a new building. Omaar approached and tapped her shoulder. Jessie jumped, skirting back as Omaar glared.
"That Valkyrie really does nullify magic," Omaar pointed out, folding his arms and pondering. "Give it here. I want it." Jessie pressed her lips together as Omaar leaned in. "Don't make me remind you I'm letting you borrow my weapon," he hissed. "I wouldn't recommend pushing your luck."
"I need it just as much as you do, Omaar," Jessie snapped.
"Of course you do," Omaar smirked. "Without it, you're nothing. But don't think i won't rip it from your corpse."
Jessie stepped back. Suddenly, a goblin child screamed as the builders lost their grip, the wooden beam falling toward the boy. The party trudged, weary from the cave, but Jessie darted forward, diving to grab the child and gliding out of the way as the beam slammed into the ground. The crowd swarmed around them as Omaar glared, leaning against a pillar.
"Are you two okay?" Thorren asked, running over.
"It's fine, just a scrape," Jessie smiled, dusting herself off and helping the child up.
"Jessie, thank you, you've been such a help," Kamitafa said.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't really thinking," Jessie smiled sheepishly.
"Don't apologize. You've done a great deed today," Thorren said. "We're in your debt." As the crowd surrounded Jessie, Tengune broke away and found Omaar glaring silently. He stepped in front, blocking his view. "Don't even think about it," Tengune growled.
"Oh, I'm thinking about it," Omaar smirked. "I want my Valkyrie back, so I'll get it back."
"She's proven herself capable with it," Tengune argued. "Why take it from her now?"
"Because I want to," Omaar smirked. "I don't need a reason to take what's mine."
"You can't do that, Omaar," Tengune barked.
Omaar kicked off the pillar, locking eyes with Tengune, leaning forward with a smile. "You think you're fast enough to stop me?" he smirked, then walked deeper into the village. Tengune sighed, returning to the crowd.
Meanwhile, Miograce approached Kokutafa, who sat on a bench nestled in glowing flowers. "They veil their intent in hope," Miograce whispered, watching the goblins gather around Jessie, "but we know how this will end."
"Fine, let them betray us," Kokutafa hissed as Kamitafa took Jessie's hand, leading her to the mess hall. "We'll kill them after, and the chief will see these fools can't reason."
"You cannot underestimate them so," Miograce chuckled, watching Tengune trail Jessie as Hemphie and Thorren talked. "They've already proven they can equal you."
Kokutafa's eyes narrowed at Omaar, her jaw clenched. Miograce leaned in close, meeting Omaar's gaze before he vanished behind a pillar. "If you want your chief to understand," she continued, "you must show him the truth: such a divide cannot be undone."
"Why would you help us?" Kokutafa questioned.
"God sees all," Miograce said. "If I can show you the way, all can share divinity."
"You mean to convert us to your faith," Kokutafa growled, raising a brow.
"God can give you protection," Miograce smiled, "to no longer be hunted like game. Is that not what you want?"
Kokutafa paused, gazing into the distance. "He needs to go first," she glared.
"I'm aware," Miograce grinned, leaning in to whisper in her ear.
Jessie and Kamitafa entered the mess hall hand in hand, the space buzzing with goblins and the aroma of meat and fruit wafting from steaming platters. They sat at a large table as Kamitafa called for food. A muscular hobgoblin barked orders, and others began preparing a feast.
"Is that weapon from your home, too?" Kamitafa smiled.
"Kind of," Jessie smirked. "It's similar but not the same."
"Can I take a look?" Kamitafa asked. Jessie paused, then smiled, pulling out the Valkyrie and handing it over. Kamitafa inspected it curiously as Jessie explained its workings. Kamitafa gasped in awe, handing it back. Jessie pocketed it.
"To think there's an empire with weapons like these," Kamitafa exclaimed. "I hope I get to see it one day."
"The others talk like these Aetherions are to be avoided," Jessie said. "Maybe they're not so friendly."
"I'll make friends with them," Kamitafa grinned.
"You really think so?" Jessie asked, raising a brow.
"Others often forget that when you're kind, they're often kind in return," Kamitafa said. "With kindness and honesty, even those with ill intent can't bring themselves to harm you."
"But what if they aren't so easily swayed?" Jessie argued. "I've seen it happen. When people decide they don't like you, you'll never change their mind."
"Others follow each other," Kamitafa affirmed. "If everyone likes you, they'll do the same."
"Kamitafa, I think you're too kind for the world you live in," Jessie smiled.
"If I'm too kind, then I'll make this world kinder," Kamitafa laughed. "One step at a time, I'll travel the world. Even if I don't succeed, if I can make this place a little better, I'll be happy." Jessie nodded, her smile fading as she pondered Kamitafa's words. Two goblins began arguing, and Kamitafa jumped up to calm them.
Tengune approached, sitting by Jessie. "You two move fast," he smiled.
"Sorry, I had to keep up with her," Jessie beamed. "It's amazing how much energy she has."
"Are you enjoying yourself?" Tengune asked, watching Kamitafa soothe the goblins.
"Yes, everyone's so nice here," Jessie said. "I really feel they're good people. If the village chief sees this, surely he'd change."
"He doesn't care if they're good-natured or not," Tengune sighed, his frown deepening. "He wants these goblins gone, regardless."
Jessie's expression turned somber, her gaze meeting Tengune's. "Omaar wants his weapon back," Tengune said, his tone darkening.
"He told me," Jessie replied. "I… I don't want to give it to him. There's no telling what he'll do with it."
"I agree," Tengune said.
"And he obviously doesn't care about the goblins," Jessie continued. "He doesn't care what happens to them."
"I agree," Tengune affirmed, palming his face with a sigh.
"Then why does it feel like you're trying to convince me to give it up?" Jessie cried, her voice rising.
"Jessie," Tengune said, his usual warmth replaced by a cold stare. "He will kill you." Jessie froze, sweat beading as she met his gaze. "You underestimate his malice," Tengune continued. "In his eyes, you're nothing but a fool. He'll part your neck from your shoulders and forget you existed the next second." He grabbed her shoulder, leaning closer. "A Valkyrie won't save you from a dagger in the dark, nor can my flame shield you," he growled. "You won't have time to scream or beg—not that he'd care. You don't want this fight, Jessie."
Jessie stared wide-eyed at Tengune in shock. She slowly eased back. Tengune released her, and they shared a moment of silence. "I'm sorry," Tengune apologized. "I just don't want you to die."
Jessie cracked a smile, holding Tengune's hand. "I understand," she said, her head hung low. "You're right, I can't do this."
Tengune's ears twitched, his fur bristling. "Actually," he smirked, "I think there might be a way we can find common ground." Jessie looked puzzled as a group of goblins slammed a feast onto the table: meat platters, fruit and plant dishes, and a giant ant's head in a bowl. The feast arrived, interrupting their talk. Tengune and Jessie spoke briefly before Kamitafa ran over.
"Finally!" she yelled. "You have to try some black ant soup." Jessie gulped, eyeing the ant's head swirling in the broth. Tengune stood, sharing a glance with Jessie.
"Are you not having some?" Kamitafa mumbled, her mouth stuffed with food.
"Thorren promised to show me some runes, so I'd better go while I've got time," Tengune said. He winked at Jessie before heading out of the mess hall.
In a back alley hidden from the village streets, the air reeked of damp stone, crows' caws echoing above. Omaar crouched, his dagger pressed to a goblin's throat. Cloaked in shadow, the goblin pleaded, but Omaar's empty stare silenced him, a finger to his lips. The goblin glanced at his friend's corpse in the dark alleyway, crows watching from above.
"An Oracle?" Omaar asked, intrigued.
"Yes," the goblin shivered. "She lives in a tent in the north part of the village."
"And she's skilled in magic?" Omaar smirked.
"She knows plenty about ritual magic and curses," the goblin said. "I can take you to her if you like."
"No," Omaar replied. "You've played your role." He cleaved into the goblin's neck, dodging the spraying blood. Omaar wiped his dagger, eyes cold, then dragged the bodies into a dense thicket. He stepped out, dusting his hands, his thoughts flicking to Jessie's Valkyrie, a prize to fuel his defiance.
Tengune approached, folding his arms. "What now?" Omaar sighed, glaring at him.
"Give me your hand," Tengune hissed, removing one glove and handing another to Omaar. They each donned one, and Tengune passed him a valorium bullet, its gleam meant to pierce magic wards.
"Is this a joke?" Omaar growled.
"Quite the opposite," Tengune affirmed. "I don't know what you're planning, but I'm sure you can work with this, right?"
Omaar sighed, pocketing the bullet. "Is this meant to stop me?" he chuckled.
"We're not your enemy, Omaar," Tengune pleaded.
"Not yet," Omaar smiled. "So I just have to get my blade ready first."
"You think I'd raise my flame to you?" Tengune said, looking down. Omaar leaned in.
"Would you not?" Omaar inquired. Silence fell. Crows swarming around Tengune, cawing with a deathly warning as the curse's melody hummed louder, the clock pulsing faster. "If I raised my blade at her," he pressed, "would you kill me?"
Tengune didn't answer. Omaar scoffed, walking away, leaving Tengune alone as he headed north. Tengune stared after him, taking deep breaths. He clenched his fist, cursing, then stomped off south.
Omaar headed north through the village until he reached a lone tent on a small platform atop a pillar, lit by flickering lamps. A spiral staircase led up, and Omaar ascended. Peering inside, he saw only an empty void. Drawing his dagger, he lunged into the darkness until candles lit one by one, revealing a cramped, dimly lit tent. The air smelled of musty parchment, candle smoke curling around books and trinkets scattered on the floor. An old goblin sat at the center on a pillow, waving Omaar to sit opposite her. He sat, his eyes locking with hers, glancing around warily.
"An elf," the Oracle smiled. "Hair like clouds, eyes like daggers. What brings you to my humble abode?"
"Answers," Omaar responded. "I want information."
"And what kind of information do you seek?" the Oracle asked. "Knowledge of your fate, or something more practical?"
"I need no advice," Omaar affirmed. "Fate is mine to bend. I want to know about curses."
"Is that so?" the Oracle chuckled. "The great spark of youth. Very well. What do you wish to know?"
"How do I break a curse or spell put on me?" Omaar questioned.
"So you are cursed. That explains your intriguing mana," the Oracle smiled.
"What do you mean?" Omaar pressed.
"You're cloaked in death," the Oracle laughed. "But I'll help, since you asked." She used her mana to draw two circles with a line connecting them. "Spells can be cast in three forms: rune-casting, for immediate, efficient effect; ritual casting, for powerful, prolonged effects; and self-casting, using one's own mana, channeled with hand signs or incantations." She leaned in. "Curses usually fall under ritual. Self-casting is rarely used alone, often amplifying rune or ritual casting."
"And prayer?" Omaar asked, his eyes narrowing. "How does it affect magic? I know Malevians are masters of it."
"Prayer commonly gathers mana for rituals," the Oracle explained. "But Malevians are unique. They access abundant prayer magic instantly, from anywhere, as if tapping a shared resource. It lets them cast rituals without delay."
"How so?" Omaar pressed, tensing.
"Their divine connection fuels it," she said. "No need for prolonged chants—raw power, ready at will."
"So what does this have to do with my curse?" Omaar frowned.
"Patience, child," the Oracle laughed. "Curses create a mark on the target and caster, linked to each other." She drew a line in one circle. "To break a curse, you need the runes used. Each rune has an opposite, like an encrypted password. Find the right combination, and you can break it."
"I'm no mage, but I have this," Omaar said, pulling out the valorium bullet. "Could this stop it?" He explained its purpose as she eyed it with intrigue.
"It severs mana bonds but not ritual curses," she frowned. "A bullet would need to strike both parties to sever the connection."
"Would it stop revival?" Omaar asked.
"Revival?" the Oracle pondered. "If the bullet disrupts external and internal mana, it's possible. Otherwise, it depends on the revival's nature."
Omaar pocketed the bullet, rising. "Before you leave, elf," the Oracle said, "what drives you?"
"Peace of mind," Omaar replied.
"You don't live a peaceful life," she smiled. "Is it because of the curse molded onto your flesh?"
"You know of it?" Omaar growled.
"I've sensed its mark before," the Oracle clarified. "Witches are skilled in ritual magic, curses, and alchemy. To break that curse, find the one who cast it."
A goblin burst into the tent, begging for help, then noticed Omaar. He struck twice, and the goblin fell unconscious. The Oracle sighed as Omaar drew his dagger.
"You know far too much," Omaar smirked. "You must die."
"So I may not aid your enemies," the Oracle smiled. "I knew you'd be my end, as the stars foretold."
"Sorry," Omaar apologized, "but it's you or me, and I'll always choose me."
"Do what you must, child," the Oracle grinned. "May the crow mother release her grip on you one day."
Omaar sliced her neck, blood spattering the unconscious goblin. He stared at her corpse. "I've killed all of you before," he muttered. "But in this life, I'll be the last one standing." He vanished from the tent without a trace.
Tengune approached Hemphie and Thorren on a farm, the air humming with insect chirps, soil damp underfoot. They tended crops as Tengune inspected a strange tree. Its bark was rubbery and soft, its center cracked as if smiling. He crouched, sifting the fertile soil, rich with nutrients. Unlike the elven village's drought-stricken fields, the goblins' crops thrived.
"These plants?" Tengune inquired. "They're not local. Where did you get them?"
"Quite right," Thorren confirmed. "From the western continent. Trolls gave them to us, said they could grow anywhere."
"A desert species," Tengune deduced. "But why do I sense…" He took a clump of soil, drew runes, and ignited it. The flame screeched into a blazing inferno. Tengune dropped it, quickly extinguishing the blaze. He stared, stunned, as the soil burned relentlessly. Thorren and Hemphie ran over.
"Tengune, what happened?" Thorren panted.
"This soil's full of mana," Tengune explained, frowning at its unnatural pulse. "Are these plants absorbing it from the ground?"
Hemphie and Thorren exchanged a glance, silent. "Well, these plants let us live down here," Hemphie smiled. "They're quite helpful."
"If they're siphoning mana this aggressively," Tengune muttered, lost in thought, mumbling to himself.
"Tengune," Thorren called, snapping him back. "You'll be moving off soon. Come, let me teach you something."
Tengune stood, approaching Thorren. "Give me your tome," Thorren said. Tengune obliged, handing it over. Thorren began to write. "See this," he pointed. "I can't give you too many, but I know you're of good nature. This is a force rune." He drew it in the air with magic. "It transfers mana into kinetic energy." Tengune gasped, envisioning new spells. "And this is an enhancement rune," Thorren continued. "It adds a property to a spell. Quite useful."
Tengune nodded, taking back his tomb with a quiet "Thank you." As they walked toward the village center, the path crunching underfoot, Hemphie glanced at Tengune's heads.
"Tengune, tell me, do they talk?" Hemphie inquired.
"What, my heads?" Tengune replied. "No, they've always been dormant."
"Do they not affect you at all?" Hemphie questioned.
"Other than making me look like a monster? No," Tengune laughed awkwardly, his expression dropping as he sighed. "I feel them move when I move, hear their breath, smell what they do. But they've only given me silence."
"Maybe they're waiting for something," Hemphie suggested.
"I doubt it," Tengune said, smiling softly. "But sometimes, I hear them in my mind, poking and prodding, discussing. They hate me, call me a fool."
"Then they can still perceive what's happening," Hemphie pondered. "They're not truly asleep."
"It's rare, but they've spoken," Tengune growled. "In my dreams, they laugh at my memories, claw and bite me."
"Do you think they want control?" Hemphie asked.
"They won't have it," Tengune affirmed. Hemphie smiled as they rejoined the group.
Kamitafa called everyone to the village center. They gathered as Hemphie spoke. "Now we'll head deeper in," he announced. "We've passed any threat, so it should be straightforward."
From a distance, crows circled above, their caws a faint warning. A bloodied goblin was dragged to a tree, screaming, "It wasn't me! It was him!" He pointed at Omaar. "He killed the Oracle!"
Omaar smirked, stepping forward. "You're desperate, using our arrival as a scapegoat to save your hide."
"Well, you'll get nothing, traitor!" a goblin yelled. The tree's roots rustled, then lashed out, grabbing the goblin and stuffing him into its maw. Jessie and Tengune watched, horrified, as Omaar's smirk widened. Kamitafa's expression turned somber. Miograce glanced at Omaar, his head held high, almost eager.
"He was found trying to escape after murdering the Oracle," Kokutafa explained. "We have no tolerance for such foolishness."
"Let's let Thorren handle this," Hemphie said. "Come on." The party ventured out of the village, deeper into the caves.