Mabinogi

Story 1: Heroes of Uladh

It was a clear night in Tir Chonaill, a quaint, tiny village at the north of the Uladh continent. A boy, about the age of 15, looked out the window of his small home. Navy blue hair, which was always a mess, and precocious eyes set apart his face from the sleek build to his body. In this village, he went by the name of John; the origin of his name was due to him being found here instead of claiming Tir Chonaill as his birthplace. Abandoned as a small child, he found refuge here amongst the welcoming villagers. He was fortunate enough to be raised and cared for by many of the residents, even ending up with a gift of the house on their behalf. In the years that passed, he became a student at the local school of survival education and a part-time worker around town, aspiring to be a competent adventurer with enough fundings from his work.

At this time of night, John stared through a window at quiet scenery outside, wishing in the back of his mind the same ease for himself. Tomorrow filled the boy with anxiety, as he was to continue his education into combat mastery, a class he had been avoiding. Not being in the ideal physical shape drove him into strictly taking magic classes. However, from that, the most he had learned were the basic manipulation of the Lightning element and Erg recovery, known as the art of Healing. His estimation of himself scared him even more; he had never handle a weapon before, dismissing the one time ago when, while working for the local blacksmith Mr. Ferghus, he was given a short sword that broke the first time he used it, due to the current condition it was in. Trying to put his anxiety away, John went to bed, with uncomfortable thoughts of what would happen tomorrow.

"Darn," mumbled John as he went to get a broom. He woke up the next morning trying to prepare his breakfast, but his stubborn fear shook his grip, causing him to drop a glass cup. With the pieces of glass shattered all over the wooden floor of his kitchen, he felt this was just the end of the beginning.

It wasn't long before John had to make his way to sch

ool, still trying to look for the longest delay between him and combat class. As he headed off, he mentally reviewed over some basic skills for close-quarter fighting he had read in a book, personally given to him by the residential guard Trefor. The boy felt a sense of hope as he mouthed virtually almost every word he had gotten from the reading, but his dreadfulness forced realization of what is reading and what is experiencing. With every step, the gnawing of his peace of mind wore tighter, until he entered the front yard of Tir school. Eying the barley dummies standing forever patiently, the irking scent of sweat mixed with the blurry rays of the sun Palala filled his thoughts. Both drenched the fenced yard, instilling a small sense of vigor in the small crowd of students near the front end. Guilt pooled into John as he saw that every recognizable student had already gathered, except him; a sure sign that he was tardy. Relief temporary came, as he saw no signs or presence of the combat teacher anywhere. As John hurriedly blended into the group, some of the students took notice of him, but none of them spoke a word to the boy at all. John let out a little sigh as some of them even edged away from him. He wasn't sure who, but after the rumors spread about him being a disciple of the Fomors, he never was addressed by his peers since then. The adults of the village knew it to be just an unsound rumor, but the younger generation were more gullible to separate John from the rest of themselves.

"All right! Trainees, attention!"

The stern voice of the combat teacher Ranald startled John. His lack of attention saw to the appearance of the former mercenary almost in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Your assignment today is an assessment exam. The test is to clear through the town's infested fortress, Alby dungeon. The objective is to exterminate the Giant Spider at the farthest end of dungeon. That is all. Cl

ass dismissed!" With that said, the ruffled teacher left, heading towards the school door.

The blunt imperative left John in a mix of surprise and horror. Letting underage kids run though a dungeon alone? he pondered, That doesn't seem like a very good assignment, let alone a smart one. Befuddled, he started musing the motives of this assignment, scrutinizing the objective. A few moments later, a cool breeze interrupted his senses, which sharpened themselves when they noticed a difference in the area. Looking around, John found himself alone; his peers had already set out. Berating at himself for his constant musing, John quickly perused the nearby weapon rack that he saw earlier, only to find in despair a wooden blade left. Not willing to continue his self-scolding that left him this blade, he swiftly picked up the light sword and exited the school grounds, heading to the north side of Tir Chonaill. On his way there, he checked the status of the wooden weapon, finding it worn on the edge, most likely by the use of other students. Dissatisfied with the sharpness, he stopped at a large, grainy rock, nearby the village healer's cottage. With as much caution as his hastiness would allow, he carefully held the blade near each end with his hands, then began grinding the blade's edge side against the rock, sanding off excess wood. Within several minutes, he sharpened the edge to an acceptable point, after being content testing it with a finger. "It's better than nothing, I guess," said John, after blowing off the sawdust from the blade. Heading back on his way to the north, he knew where Alby was because he passed by the uphill path to the entrance often when he made trips to Sidhe Sneachta. Just the thought of Sidhe Sneachta aroused his desire to be there; it was his place to be when he wanted to be alone. Being the area up to the far northern reaches of Uladh, the place is as close as a taiga as travelers there would have called it, constantly but silently snowed upon without an end. The snow, just the snow itself, always seemed so comforting to John when he spent his time in the entrancing forest.

After finding the path to Alby, John felt his back turn cold at the sudden drop of temperature, along with the crackle of a nearby crow, sitting on one of the many faded black, seemingly dead trees. Another feeling, much deeper, penetrated his foremost thoughts, and he could only described it as unpleasant and malicious. The dungeon entrance in front of John was by no means a friendly calling for any Human to enter, but with his assignment at hand, it was more of a calling to begin a test, more than anything else. Scared more than anything he had ever felt before, John began a small pondering of the motive of his assignment again, but the sound of the crow urged him to involuntarily enter the dim entrance on the side of the towering hill. The blindingly dark entrance felt like a flat plane to walk on at first, but soon shifted into what John figured to be a stairway leading down.

Upon reaching the bottom, he found himself a square, stone chamber, with a strong, dithering glow that John can't seem to pinpoint the light source from. He could only guess that the glow came from the walls themselves, which were amazing to his eyes. The three walls of the chamber were carven with a symbol of an equidistant cross encompassed in a circle, which John didn't recognize, but appeared to have the carvings of light rays emitting from the cross. Drawing his eyes more so was a platform in the middle with a large stone statue of a winged, long-haired woman bowing while holding a claymore, the blade of it towards the ground in a straight, perpendicular fashion. A sudden air of confidence and intensity filled in John as he gazed upon the incredibly detailed statue, admiring the beauty of both the craftsmanship and the woman. He wasn't sure how or even why, but just the idea of believing in the sight of this statue before him felt to be a blessing of some sort.

As John slowly walked up the steps of the platform towards the softly glowing statue, his right foot hit the edge of a smaller platform in the middle of the first one. Confusion struck him as he examined the smaller platform, but quickly faded as he inferred the platform to be the altar. More realization occurred as he started to see that the statue in front of him was that of the goddess, whose name or origin he wasn't told of. He wanted to continue examining the statue, but was interrupted as he heard footsteps behind him, echoing from the stairway. Remembering the instructions of entering a dungeon's inner rooms from his readings, John quickly scoured through his item pack searching for anything he didn't need as an offer to the goddess, being the only method of entering through her seal on the dungeon. Fumbling through his items, John tried to move his wrapped-up bread away from a small green gem he was aiming for, but the small piece slipped on the top of his hand. As he pulled out his hand that held the gem, the bread fell out and dropped onto the small alter. In an eye blink, the chamber around John melted from the bright, vanilla glow into a dimmed, almost twilight variant of itself. Surprised by the unexpected change, John looked around the environment again, which he found took its toll on him. The boldness that was with him seemed to have abandoned with the colors of the chamber; the chill of the entire place struck his entire body once again. He felt almost utter phobia as questions flew through his mind, asking him to reconsider the idea of adventuring beyond the lands of his village. But the sheer will of realizing he was competing with his peers in this mandatory task gave him enough energy to move his body from being stiff. Finding the clean-carved stairway's location to the back of the chamber now, John shakily gripped the wooden blade, then proceed down the stairs, slowly as if it would delay the worst to come.

Upon entering the underground floor, John's mental focus began to waver. Losing his awareness of breathing, a sense of being light-headed fell upon him, and his track of time faded. Ugh... The blur of his vision taunted more to his waxing panic stirring inside. I need to rest. My head... Suddenly John lost his balance and slowly felt the forward fall of his body. His arms reflexively darted out to cushion the rest of his upper torso's landing, but his hands pressed against solidity sooner than he expected. Startled by his hands' discovery, John squinted his eyes to perceive another stone object in front of him. In a few seconds' glance, he found he was holding himself up on another statue of the goddess. The statue of the goddess? His vision sharpened with each moment he spent beholding the sculpture. His light-headed condition hasn't met the same success, but he felt the same confidence rush back, being absorbed with such a welcome feeling. Refusing to stop now while his remaining morale lasted, he shook off the embrace of the wonder and pressed forward past the statue. Thank you, goddess.

John wasn't sure of what happened the next few hours after his departure from the statue, but his fuzzy memory allowed him to push through despite his distorted sense of time. The subterranean dungeon was just as described in the stories and town rumors he had heard all through his life; dark, damp, cobwebs everywhere, and the scurrying of an insect or wild animal just outside of his attention.

"Just my luck," he mumbled as he cautiously walked through.

Heading forward, the dungeon became worse as he ventured deeper. As he opened every lock on every wooden door with keys he found on the floor, the lights dimmed around him gradually with each stone room he progressed through, and the damp cold air tightened its hold inside even more. Subsequently, he found one room left, which the boy found to be much more spacious than the previous rooms he was in. A large number of cobwebs dotted almost every aspect of this room, which John could only believe to be a chamber. Around the edge of the room appeared to be a small chasm running around the chamber's circumference. Curious to the purpose of this room, John cautiously ambulated forward, finding his steps echoing the entirety of his surroundings. So empty for a big room. What was this room for during the Fom- Did a pile of web just drop on my head? Disgusted by the drop, John slowly brushed the cobweb off of his hair with his left hand. He found the web he touched to be unusually warm. Confused, he tilted his vision upward to find the source, only to be horrified by bright red spiders crawling on the ceiling. A few of the abnormally large spiders seemed to be gazing at John with their multiple, slick eyes that reflected the internal dungeon lights. Fazed by the sight that nearly made the boy sick to his stomach, he ordered his legs to move, but discovered them frozen. He lost his judgment on what to do from there, letting time take place and hoping his stillness wouldn't intrigue the spiders to come close to him.

Fortunate forsaken John as three of the spiders dropped from the ceiling, landing steadily upward and without any painful indication on their legs.

"What the…!?"

Surprised and caught off guard, he stuck his right arm up in defense. The spiders, taking this as a threat, bared their wet teeth and their forelegs. The boy finally managed to compel his legs to take action, but fell to a quick ambush from the far right spider. It hurriedly jumped towards John and sunk its sharp teeth into his combat arm. He braced for the worst pain to come, but realized the cut to be just a sting on his wound, being a bit stronger than an average spider bite. However, the attacking spider hissed as it persisted with its hold, applying more jaw pressure on John's arm. The boy winced as he felt the pain worsen, trying to not move his arm or the spider lest it made the cut worse. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the other two spiders warily creeping forward, and was sure they were hesitating to overwhelm him. Using this to his timing, he tossed his wooden blade to his left hand, gave it a half-spin, then proceeded to stab the gnawing spider through its abdomen, pushing through its exoskeleton with all his might, until he can feel the blade going through the whole body. The spider shrieked and jerked around to each distance the blade went in, until its jaw let go of the forearm. The still-moving body leaked opaque, whitish blood as it slid off the blade, falling onto the floor on its back with a small thud. It continued twitching for a few seconds before coming to a still and died. Relieved for a frame of a second, John recovered with a quick turn to the other spiders closing in. Relying on a quick recollection of Ranald's swordplay practice, he swung at the nearest assailant and sliced it enough to push it back. He did not have enough time for a weapon blow to the second spider, so he stomped on it, feeling its shell-like head give away to his crushing. The reeling one, still alive, was recovering from the weak push back, rushing all its legs towards the enemy. In the wholeness of the moment, John recalled his training on magic, and felt an intuition. He wasn't sure what it was, but his instinct took over, and suddenly his mind began bending the power of Mana around him. He drew his focus onto this manipulation, mentally splitting the energy around him, Erg, into two polarities. One of the polarities instantly embedded itself on the encroaching spider, while the other one John began polarizing its Erg core with as much Mana as he can fill in. The smallest attention found the spider launching itself at John, but he successfully finished polarization and disbursed the explosion of Erg energy between his charged polarity and the spider's lessened one. The Lightning bolt burned its immense power into the body of the spider, sizzling it with the shock. It was blown backwards from the force of the impact, instantly dead the moment it was hit. Feeling the stabilization of Erg of his surrounding, John sighed in relief at the end of that threat.

"That wasn't too bad."

He quickly glanced up at the ceiling to see if any more spiders would try against him, but found them rapidly hurrying away into holes dotting the ceiling. Content with his accomplishment, he threw up his arms in triumph, but flinched at the pain of his right forearm's wound. The covering sleeve was slightly torn, but the skin was penetrated. He found traces of his blood coming out, but knew it was not horribly bad. Good thing I packed bandages the night before. After applying a quick wrapping fix on his forearm and checking the ceiling one more time, the victorious boy paced quickly into the other end of the large chamber.

At the end of it, John could barely make out a door at the far opposite side, but saw another shining goddess statue inside. Running as quickly as he never felt before, he remembered the quick lesson that the statues served not only as blessings, but also as teleportation asylums to leave the dungeon. "Take that, weirdo place!" Yearning to see the outside and his home again, he failed to heed loud noises of scampering on the ceiling. A gigantic shadow behind John appeared, growing in size and darkness. A small booming sound echoed the room a few seconds after, in which a small quake shook the chamber, nearly causing John to lose balance. He froze in fear, guessing what the sound and quake could be, but deep down really knew what could have caused those. His head was almost paralyzed in terror to turn around, but when he did, he regretted trying. "G... Giant... Spider." A shrill sound emitted from the lumbering stature of the Giant Spider, colored burgundy in its whole self, which height was about halfway to the ceiling. Its exposed teeth dripped ooze of a yellow liquid that made John's blood nearly curl. It held its forelegs up in combat position, large sharp claws at their end, looking strong enough to cut into a thick tree trunk. John nearly couldn't hold back his outburst of repugnance as his nostrils caught the rotting stench of dead insects from the Giant Spider. From behind the colossal arachnid crawled forward more of the Red Spiders, eight of them, which made the three John had kill almost vain in comparison. His mind froze to do any thinking; he was utterly outnumbered.

"This is what I get for bragging."

At the instant the Giant Spider snarled and moved a bit, John sprinted towards the goddess statue inside the far end room, not letting anything in his mind deter his body's chance for survival. You are weak... reflected the sound in the distant dimension of his mind. Weak and afraid. A coward. You will never amount to undertake the depths of the outside world. A failure... You will remain here forever and die a sad life. He didn't care anymore; the arachnid mob was catching up to him. He passed through the door opening, trying to not waste his time looking upon the goddess statue. He intuitively touched the stone sculpture, and watched the warm colors and lights flood back into his vision as he warped back into Alby's entrance chamber.

"Phew," he sighed heavily.

The rest of his journey let him back to Tir Chonaill's school with labored breathing and a dizzied mind. Each step he took, he regained his composure and grip on reality. With each step he took however, he lost his thoughts even more about what he experienced the whole day. I'm so weak… Why did Nao even bring me to Erinn? John observed a few kids playing in Adellia Stream as he flimsily walked by. I haven't accomplished anything but being a nuisance to the people around me… At the school, he hazily glanced at the assembly of yet again all the students in the school yard, encircling the combat teacher, so he considered that he was the last one to finish. Being stricken with sadness, he put his unclean wooden blade back on the weapon rack. He looked away when two girls ambled past him. So… why am I here?

Ranald, seeing John back from Alby, sounded out his commanding voice, interrupting the boy's indistinct thoughts.

"So did everyone complete their assignment? Killed their spider?"

A monotone "Yes" from all the students answered the teacher, including John. I just want to go home and go to sleep.

"Then you are excused."

The exhausted boy fell asleep in his bed without a thing or thought to anything else the moment he arrived home into his bedroom. He didn't want to worry about anything anymore, but the untold horror that would haunt him was well on its way.