"Aspirant Sandu, your nightmare is over."
You might be wondering how I got into this situation. Well, so was I.
It had started a week ago when I first exhibited signs of the Nightmare Spell: constant fatigue, irresistible sleep, and the like. Two days ago, I showed up at the police station and nearly gave the officer a heart attack. He was scared witless when he heard the Spell had claimed another victim. I was immediately locked down and soon entered my First Nightmare.
The First Nightmare is a trial by nature. Those affected are transported to the distant past of a parallel world and must resolve a conflict to survive. Usually, the task is simple—slay a monster—but it is by no means easy.
I saw a burned forest, charred beyond recognition, in a time so distant it seemed to be the beginning of the world. Then, the vision shifted. The world went ablaze, and a moment later, the charred wasteland was replaced by a vast, beautiful forest. I was no longer watching from a distance; I was inside it.
"What's the matter?" asked a tall man clad in archaic armor. He looked like he had stepped straight out of ancient history. I looked down and found myself wearing similar gear. It seemed I had become a warrior of a bygone age.
"What?" I managed to answer.
"You've been sitting there dazed for a good two minutes. What happened? Did you notice something?"
"Ah, no. Sorry about that. I'm fine now, really," I said sheepishly.
The man gave me a strange look and resumed walking. I followed, looking around the forest. A carriage moved at a slow pace near us on a dirt road. We were clearly its escort. All around us, the beautiful forest rose toward the sky. Sunlight reflected off transparent leaves that looked as though they were made of glass. The air was fresh and sweet, giving an otherworldly beauty to the scene. I hadn't seen anything this breathtaking in my entire life. Some trial—this looked like paradise.
We continued walking for some time. Eventually, I managed to strike up a conversation with my fellow soldier. I learned his name was Athleius. We were guards for a wealthy man taking a shortcut through the woods. The man's wife was sick, and the carriage moved slowly to avoid disturbing her. Two servants tended to the Lady inside while Athleius and I kept watch.
We walked for hours, taking frequent breaks. When night fell, we set up camp. I took the first watch while Athleius went to sleep. Finally, I had some alone time. Not that I wanted to sleep anyway—though my legs felt like they were falling apart from walking more in one day than I had in the past year.
There was one other thing I had to check, and I needed the silence to do it. All carriers of the Nightmare Spell can learn about their Aspect. All they have to do is turn their gaze inward and think about their identity.
When I did, a series of runes—looking straight out of a video game—shimmered into existence. I had never seen their like before, yet I understood their meaning perfectly. The Spell translated them for me:
Name: Sandu
True Name: -
Rank: Dormant
Aspect: Paper Tiger
Aspect Rank: Dormant
Description: "The soul of a predator in a body of paper. Can you survive this burning world?"
What did the Spell mean by that? Was it calling me weak? Too weak for this world? Is the Spell stupid? Does it want to pick a fight?
I moved on to my Attributes. If I was lucky, I might have something useful.
Attributes:
[Spiteful] – You cannot pass out due to spite.
Huh. Not what I expected. I didn't think I was that spiteful. I usually let people who bump into me walk away with only a light beating… I'm basically kindness incarnate!
Still, it wasn't great. I had an Aspect with a poem instead of a useful description, and it was only Dormant rank—the lowest of the low. Worse still, I didn't know my Aspect type. Usually, they fall into Combat, Utility, or Sorcery categories. Without an Active Ability yet, I was flying blind. I'd have to survive the Nightmare first to truly understand my power.
After digesting these discoveries, I woke Athleius and went to sleep. The First Nightmare is usually short, so I knew the trial would face me soon. I needed my rest.
A shrill cry woke me. It was still dark, though the first hints of dawn were touching the canopy. I looked around, and my heart plummeted.
What is that?
A three-meter-long, dog-like creature was pinned atop Athleius, its fangs sinking into his shoulder. He was struggling, but his sword was sliding uselessly against the creature's hide. His movements were slowing, his life bleeding out into the dirt.
What do I do? Do I run? Probably not. If this is a Nightmare, this beast is likely the monster I have to kill to resolve the conflict. Judging by Athleius's struggle, the beast is at least of the Awakened rank.
That is terrible luck! Awakened monsters are far stronger than Dormant ones. They are so alien that they seem to obey a different set of laws compared to mundane beings. There was no way back, and the way forward was guaranteed death. Great! Just wonderful!
At least it seemed preoccupied with eating Athleius. I took my spear and sprinted toward the creature's flank. I lashed out with everything I had, putting all my strength into the strike.
It was useless. The beast turned and shattered my spear with a single, contemptuous swipe. A second later, it was atop me, sinking its fangs into my flesh. The pain was exquisite. Having lived a sheltered life with a low pain tolerance did nothing to prepare me for this. I screamed in agony and bit down on the beast's leg in a fit of animalistic rage. It was a futile act; a sharp crack echoed in my jaw as a couple of my teeth broke against its tough hide.
But then, my free hand gripped the dagger at my belt. I lunged forward and drove the blade deep into the beast's eye. It went in all the way to the hilt, piercing the brain and killing it instantly.
I did it. I actually did it.
Hot blood flowed over my face as the beast's body went limp. It had clawed me in its final moments, leaving ragged, dirty wounds, but I was alive. I couldn't believe my luck—until I saw that a huge chunk of my shoulder and arm was missing. The pain returned in all its sickening glory.
Then, I heard the voice:
"You have slain an awakened beast: War Hound"
"You have received a Memory."
Memories are rare boons from the Spell. The drop rate is notoriously low, and they usually match the rank and tier of the slain foe. Without checking the description, I summoned it. A thin, brittle straight sword formed in my remaining hand from a shower of sparks.
I used the new blade to cut into the monster's flesh and retrieve the Soul Shard from within. Enduring the white-hot pain, I tore off my shirt and pressed it against my shoulder to stop the bleeding. It didn't do much, but it slowed the flow. The Nightmare was technically over, but it would take a few more minutes for the illusion to dissolve.
I stumbled and crawled toward Athleius's body. I plunged my sword into his chest and took the Soul Shard from his remains. The servants emerged from the carriage then, looking at me with frightened expressions. I drew closer, forcing a subtle, bloody smile onto my face.
"The beast is dead," I rasped.
They looked at my deathly pale face, slick with gore. They seemed relieved—the bastards. They were relieved they had survived. Nobody cared that I was dying or that Athleius was gone. They were just happy it was us and not them.
But that wasn't the truth. As I drew closer, I plunged my sword into the chest of the first servant, then turned on the next. I fished for their Soul Shards and made my way into the carriage.
The master was kneeling by the bed. It appeared his wife hadn't made it; his face was a mask of tears as he clasped her cold hand. At the sound of my approach, he turned. The sorrow on his face instantly shifted to pure terror. That same expression remained even after his severed head rolled onto the floor.
I stared at the bloody crystals in my hand. There was one large one belonging to the Awakened beast and five smaller ones from the humans. The driver had managed to get away, but it didn't matter. I was turning cold. Each breath was a struggle, and my movements were sluggish from the blood loss.
I took the crystals and crushed them with the pommel of my sword, one by one. A wave of dark energy washed over me. I checked my runes:
Soul Fragments: [7/1000]
I sighed. A second later, the world vanished.
"Aspirant Sandu, your nightmare is over."
I was transported to a void where etheric strings created a vast, cosmic tapestry. It reminded me of a human brain. Was I inside the "mind" of the Spell? My missing arm was back, and the terrible wounds had vanished, but the phantom pain remained.
A voice washed over me:
"A cockroach bites the hand of death, and then bites the hand that feeds him."
Assessment: Abysmal.
Your Flaw: [Clear Malice] – The dark feelings hidden deep within you become visible to all.
Aspect Ability: [Bravado] – When activated, you become the warrior of your dreams while your body collapses from the strain.
Abysmal? What? I thought I did great! I killed the beast! And what is that ability? It sounds incredibly painful.
The Spell is officially on my hitlist. I'll make it learn to fear the quiet kid.