Re:Cursed

Nyxil landed on her feet.

The same could not be said for the teens around her.

With her heart thrumming, she took in the landscape around them before anyone else even realised they had solid earth beneath them. Her first thought was that Ep'Nanorschi had tossed them into a Dark Star. It was an obscene, alien sight. After only a few seconds, she discarded the assumption; there was corruption, sure, but not nearly enough for the inner workings of those disasters.

Still, the appearance of what was essentially an entirely different world left her with doubts.

They were no longer on Coral. The existence of a horizon at all was proof of that. Tall buildings at the bowl's rim of Coral's upper side could hardly be called as such. But here, dark grey sand bordered a yellow sky. A sky that was almost too bright to gaze upon.

Directly overhead, pervading near all the sky, an omnipresent sun hung. It was so massive, taking so much of the sky, that each of the menacing flares were a divine arm that flickered from one side of the horizon to another in moments. Nyxil noticed that the sky itself wasn't yellow, but the background of flares that created the strong, sulphuric colour. And yet, the massive star made even that seem dull.

When Nyxil finally snapped her burning eyes from the sky, she found what was almost certainly the location of the Trial, if nothing else than it was the only place where one could 'reach the top' in this lifeless landscape. A temple of black stone. A pyramid reaching for the eerie golden sun. One that stretched higher than any surface building on Coral.

Another Trial participant fell at Nyxil's side, and she turned her attention to ring of shattered sky that circled the pyramid. It was identical to the fractured space created from Ep'Nanorschi's ritual in every way except its inverted colour. The dark reflection of where they'd come from remained only for long enough to dump the last of the teens before it folded out of existence.

So this is where the third Trial is to take place… a Null Scar.

Nyxil had never seen one herself. They were a massive investment for the cults, and a good one was valuable. So valuable that it was astonishing that the Bodytwisters were willing to use one for a Trial regardless of whether they'd extracted everything they could from it or not.

Null Scars were… not well understood. They were an entire category of ritual that every cult poked their toes into, but none had learnt how to control them. Nyxil could know that by the simple fact that none of the cults had found themselves with an endless wealth of powerful artefacts. Such was their import. If there was a way to control the randomness that surrounded the Null Scars, every cult wanted it.

Not only did the rituals require sacrificial materials that were difficult to source, along with relatively high sacrifice requirements, but you had no idea what sort of alternate world had been summoned until you dove in. With how dangerous some of them could be, that in itself was a deadly risk. Even high creed cultists could disappear in an untested Null Scar. Knowing that, it goes to show how valuable some of the resources inside are for cults to continue to search.

Those around her slowly rose to their feet. Nyxil's eyes leapt to one who leapt up faster than the others. She was surprised to see Grif only a few metres from her. Or, Grifvoi now. Enraptured by the sight of a place so contrasting to Coral, he didn't notice her. He stood like a man amongst boys surrounded by the other teens. Whatever the scriptures had been feeding him gave him a full head of height, as well as enough muscle that he probably weighed almost three times Nyxil.

Now that she was this close, she could tell the runes along his arms were very different from the crown curling across his forehead and over his ears. Those along his arms looked… sane. The crown didn't. That was the only way she could think to describe it. Nyxil struggled to imagine anything human could ever concoct such an unsettling pattern. Not only was the skin marred by the runes, but it the veins in his head had been warped to twist in line with the lines that coiled like a snake. She swore it moved.

"The Adjudicator said to reach the top, right?" it took Nyxil a moment to realise Grifvoi was speaking to one of the Scriptures that lingered near him. Not her. "Isn't that too easy?"

As if on queue, a solar flare crashed along the surface. It crossed the distance from the horizon to mere kilometres behind them in a second, scraping through the dark sand and leaving an inferno in the gorge it left behind. The divine roar of the sun's wrath crashed through them, and knocked many to their knees. Nyxil barely stayed upright as the immense heat crackled around her.

Grifvoi didn't budge.

No longer did those flares shifting across the sky seem so harmless.

Nyxil didn't wait for her fellow participants to regain their feet. She was sprinting for the base of the pyramid before she even remembered the Adjudicator's warning about being under the sun. As much as she'd love to believe the cultists in charge of this Trial wouldn't put an entire generation of perspective cultists in a Null Scar where they could be wiped out by a single accidental flare, this was Ep'Nanorschi. She wasn't known for kindness.

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…Or caution.

The temple had many entrances along its base, and just before she reached its cover, Nyxil caught sight of a dozen exposed sections up its side where black stone crumbled. Would they be safe if the sun struck the pyramid directly?

It had to be. It was the only structure that stood on this desolate landscape.

Her skin stopped tingling from the heat the instant she reached the shade of the pyramid's wide entrance tunnel. In fact, the dark hall was cold. As soon as she escaped the light barrage, a chill ran down her spine, leaving each of her spikes raised.

The tunnel was dark, but not nearly as dim as the unlit halls in the depths of Coral. Regardless, it was difficult to see. The blazing yellow square of the exit was enough to blind her of any details hidden by the dark.

Nyxil lowered her shroud, and took in the details while her human eyes struggled to adjust. The tunnel split about a hundred metres ahead. The T intersect held the only paths forward, so without even glancing back to the teens she could hear scampering through the entrance after her, she moved into the dark.

Her gem's focus trailed over the walls. Etched scenes continued one after the other, all depicting a distinct pyramid and sun. Nyxil wasn't sure what sort of story the walls were trying to illustrate, as the small details seemed to jump around incomprehensibly, but she could guess it was a sort of mythology or historic record.

Not that she was sure there had ever been people here in the first place, or this space was simply manifested by the ritual.

The imagery of the represented people in the carvings was lost on Nyxil, but there was no missing the major differences. In the depictions closer to the entrance, the sun was far smaller. As she moved inwards, the carving of the star took ever more space on the stone canvas. Always directly below the sun, and later in front of it, the temple remained unchanged… until a point near three quarters to the end. The pyramid was the site of carnage. Dead lay on each step; their blood seeping into the stone. All the people that had once been depicted around the base of the pyramid were gone.

Before that point, the temple held a bright, almost golden colour. In the last few, the pyramid was black.

The people were back in the next panel, except, compared to before, they seemed… altered. Little could be expressed through a carving with such sparse details, but the people now reflected the dark shade of the pyramid. Only one remained unaltered. The one important enough to have been drawn with a sceptre and stood a head over any other drawn person.

When Nyxil reached the final carving, her feet halted. There was no breeze, but an icy wind crept through the tunnel. She shuddered.

In the final panel, the sun was depicted as an eye… in the exact same way she'd seen a billion stars in the Dark Star. The image was still and unmoving, but that did nothing to stop Nyxil from feeling ike the eye was suddenly watching her. Pervading her soul.

The sun now engulfed the entire canvas. All ground around the pyramid was gone, as were the people. Besides one. A dozen solar flares, like tendrils of the beings in the Darkness, shattered the pyramid. From within, the sceptre holding person was lifted into the being's embrace. And the man welcomed it.

"Who would have ever thought you'd be one of the people I'd be warned about."

Nyxil snapped her shroud back into place, and momentarily noticed that it was impossible to see the latter etchings in the dark stone with her human eyes, before turning to the speaker.

Grifvoi stood tall in the centre of the hall, surrounded by half a dozen other Scripture acolytes. Behind them, the wide tunnel held a hundreds of participants unwilling to push past Grifvoi's group. So Nyxil found herself with an audience.

"I thought for sure you would keel over from those curses of yours one of these days. Not that I'm alone in that. Really, your survival should be an eye opener to most that they should put more effort in." Grifvoi shook his head. "But I'm curious, what did the Fleshsmiths do to you? You were too weak-willed back when I was in the ward for this much growth."

Nyxil ignored the question. Instead, her eyes flickered through his lackeys, then through the crowd. Mavi wasn't here. That was probably a good thing.

"You consider yourself strong-willed, then?" she asked.

"Of course," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What else am I supposed to think when all my ward — well, not all anymore — lack the strength to take the opportunities they have right in front of them? It is laziness and fear that holds them back."

"Well, alright," she said, barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes. Did he not realise that he'd started with one of the most desirable additives there were? Nyxil had been there herself; whatever opportunities he believed most people had, were not nearly as accessible as he thought.

There was some legitimacy to the idea that if you were determined enough, you could gain strength, but it was laughable that Grifvoi thought that was the path he was on.

"I'm sure it was an honour to meet after all this time." Nyxil spun on her heel. "But I'd rather get on with the Trial."

"Stop."

Nyxil paused, glancing over her shoulder. Grifvoi's casual demeanour was gone. He no longer acted as if this was some greeting, but sharpened his gaze to that of a predator eyeing his prey. She raised an eyebrow. He wants to try me already?

"Maybe you don't understand the position you are in," he announced, voice brimming with authority. The six Scriptures around him stepped forward, each unravelling scrolls adorned with rituals. "Let me make it clear: you have proven yourself somewhat capable, and I cannot have you muddying the waters of the final Trial."

There was a murmur of a hymn behind her and she spun to find the floor suddenly covered in slimy mushroom-like growths. There would be no crossing it without the use of her wings. At the far end, a ripple in the air made way for a Scripture acolyte who proceeded to fall to his knees and throw up into the mushroom field. She didn't miss how the mushrooms threw themselves at the vomit and latched on like leeches until it was all gone.

Nyxil turned back to Grifvoi, her hand falling to her rapier. "Seven on one?" Her touch feathered across each of their souls. "Bring it on."