A bit shorter chapter, but I just felt like it was the right place to end.

A big thanks to all whoe have chosen to review, Fav or follow so far, really makes one's day! :D

Oh, and to answer the question of saitama1155, yes, it should be in the crossover section. I have the option to list it as so ticked on, so I don't really understand why it isn't showing up as such. Will have to look into it a bit further :P

But anyway, please, do enjoy :)

Arnvolt, Lost City of Light

The Abyss, in its relentless advance, displaced many families, peoples and cultures, all fleeing from the encroaching darkness.

They believed that by banding together, they could succeed where they had all individually failed.

Thus, they proved that the lessons they had learned from their encounters with the Abyss were the wrong ones.

The darkness of the interior of the wall was stifling, thick, choking. Even as Frisk's eyes slowly grew accustomed to it, they could barely see more than a meter ahead.

They were just about to call to the others to back out when a huge wave of light spread from somewhere behind them. Spinning around, they found the source to be Asriel's staff, a glowing orb of light that gingerly moved itself to the top of his head.

Cast Light

Ancient sorcery of the lost land of Oolacile.

Casts a bright light upon surroundings.

This light-producing sorcery is elementary but nonetheless demonstrates the achievements in mysticism of Oolacile. Such magic has not been developed even in Vinheim. Perhaps due to their positive and cheerful disposition, the monsters of Ebott had little trouble translating this light-giving spell for their own use.

"Huh, that's a neat trick" Frisk said, slightly impressed. The proud smile they got from the prince in response did it more than justice.

"Top of his class in sorcery school" Chara said proudly, as she playfully punched his shoulder. The prince, in turn, blushed a deep red, and Frisk was once again taken aback by the sheer strangeness of it all; here they were, in the most cursed place in the realm, and they were in the presence of a living, cuddly teddy goat.

They shook their head. Yes, they were in the most dangerous place in the realm, and they had to focus.

"Enough dallying" Frisk called "Stay close to me; we don't know what's in here." Behind them, they heard both of them step up, even Chara, thankfully, fell in line without a spiteful remark.

For almost a full hour they walked, Frisk in front with sword and shield, Asriel in the middle, lighting the way with his staff, and Chara, knife drawn, watchful for any beast or creature that might attempt to sneak up on the group, all the while looking for a way out of the inside of the wall and into the city proper. Walking along chipped and broken stone and in near total darkness save for the light coming from the prince's staff.

They passed trough empty corridors, long-deserted guard rooms and deathly eery mustering halls. Here and there they found evidence of the city's previous occupants and of the many adventurers that had made the same journey they were now undertaking; a discarded, long-rusted sword lying on the floor, tattered banners hanging on the walls, even a long-forgotten feast hall, plates still laden with rotting, spoiled food.

Yet most damning was a large cluster of not-quite decomposed adventurers lying in a corner. Frisk had stopped up upon laying eyes on them, feeling a tingle of trepidation run up their back.

There were about five bodies, most of them naught but skeletons now, but a few of them still had rotting pieces of flesh hanging from their bones, couldn't be more than a few months old.

And the bones themselves...

Almost none were whole; most snapped and drained of their marrow, as if some fiendish ghoul had overcome the group on its own, and made a feast of the spoils.

If the legends about the city were only half-true, Frisk knew that could very easily be the case.

Behind them, they heard the prince whimper in fear at the grizzly scene, and the light coming from his staff dimmed as if he was trying to blind them from the sight. Chara instead, gave off a concerned grunt.

"What could have done that?" the rogue asked. Frisk merely shrugged "Whatever is was, it might still be here, stay sharp" The prince tenderly reached a paw back and in quick response, Chara stepped forward to take it into her hand.

Once again they walked for what seemed like hours, passing trough rooms that seemed like carbon copies of the ones they just exited. Slowly, even Frisk's determination started to crumble at their inability to find an exit into the city, the fear and darkness settling upon their shoulders as a deep dread that threatened to drive them mad. There was no life here, not even spiders crawling in their webs or mice digging into holes in the wall, nothing.

Behind them, the prince was now openly in tears and the rogue was vigorously watching the darkness behind them, breathing heavily.

"There's something out there... in the dark" Chara whispered quietly, eliciting a loud, fearful sob from Asriel. Frisk, instead, almost turned around to berate the rogue, partly because her sentence frightened them, but also because of the breakdown in whatever discipline the group had left it caused.

But instead, they felt a gentle breeze slide across their cheek.

Frisk eyes immediately snapped to where it came from, finding an old oaken door, the wood rotten and holed in several places.

"In there!" They shouted with relief, and briskly dashed forward, throwing the door aside.

The room revealed to them was both relieving and troubling. A great gate stood half-opened with blood-red evening light shining trough the crack, leading into the city.

But in front of them was a troubling omen.

In the dim darkness just beyond the reach of the light coming from Asriel's staff sat a circle of about 12 robed dead monks around a single, large individual. All of them were shriveled, emaciated figures, their arms frozen in a strange gesture towards the middle figure.

With a fear choked breath, Frisk realized that it was still alive.

The centered one bore an illustrious robe that despite its apparent age, still showed many icons and heraldic images upon it. The figure was kneeling in their direction, quietly muttering prayers of some sort

"Ch-C- Chara!" Asriel whimpered as he tightly gripped the rogue.

But another heard the prince's plea as well.

The kneeling figure suddenly stopped its sermon. Slowly, gently, it raised its head to regard the tree newcomers with empty eye-sockets and hanging jaw.

"A hollow..." Frisk uttered, tightening the grip on their sword and shield. In a way, this was a mixed blessing; combat helped to take their mind away from the dreadful place and their task, but from the looks of it, this was no ordinary hollow.

As their side, Chara suddenly appeared "Stay back Asriel" she said, as she drew her kitchen appliance weapon.

In the face of their resistance, the robed hollow stood – no – hovered to its feet, and let out a bone chilling scream. A scream that spoke of anger and a hunger it could never understand and never sate. In its hand small, dead orbs of magical light began to form

"So, any ideas!?" Chara asked as she spread her stance in a preparation of a dodge.

"Get around it" Frisk offered "I'll try to hold its attention while you-"

They were interrupted by a powerful sphere of energy that slammed into their shield with bone-rattling force and they slid back along the ground. To their side, Chara picked up on the unfinished instruction and dashed into the shadows, out of sight.

The robed hollow hovered closer as it prepared a new barrage. It's jaw opened and snapped rapidly as if it was imagining chewing on their flesh already. It represented another mystery around those suffering from The Darksign. While the curse practically drained one of all memories, personality and spirit, sometimes an individual had been so powerful in magic or arms in life that a sliver of their majesty stayed with them, even in undeath.

Frisk took a moment to stand up straight, and roll their now sore shoulder. Chara would have to hurry; a few more of those and they would be done for.

Behind them, the light coming from Asriel's staff suddenly grew bright orange, and an immensely muscle-soothing sensation overcame them. They looked back, finding the prince, wet trails on his cheeks but a stout determination in his eyes, pointing his staff at their back. Out of it came small, dust-like wisps the seeped into them.

Great heal

Glorious miracle used by high-ranking clerics. Restores a large amount of HP for self and those in the vicinity.

Only a select few have learned to recite this epic tale in it's entirety, but those who do are amply rewarded. The magical academy of Hotland spent many decades and bent many of their greatest minds to translate this spell. While they were successful, it still requires great skill and a deep desire to lessen the burden of others to cast.

Frisk quickly nodded their thanks before returning to the robed hollow, just in time to block another near arm-shattering magical orb and they were once again sent sliding back.

But this time their foot got caught on something.

With a surprised yelp, Frisk feel onto their back. They struggled to get up, but their sore arm and heavy armor frustrated the effort. Looking up, they saw a hungry look on the hollows face and a triumphant snarl escaped it's dried lips.

Just before the hollow could cast the orb that would have finished Frisk, the ghastly creature suddenly lurched forward with a pained howl. It took Frisk a moment to spot the great green cape fluttering around its head and the person it belonged to; Chara, having jumped onto its back, wrapped an arm around the hollow's throat and plunged her knife deeply into its neck

"NOW, IDIOT! WHILE IT'S STAGGERED!" She called.

Frisk immediately jumped to their feet and charged forward. The hollow thrashed maddeningly, trying to dislodge the rogue on its back, but her grip was firm and she would not yield.

As they got into range, Frisk tightened their grip on their sword and jumped up, smashing the blunt sword into the hollow's ribs, and feeling the brittle bones shatter beneath the skin.

The hollow let out a strangled cry of pain and lowered a thin hand to blast Frisk away, but the sellsword quickly lashed out with their shield, bashing the hand to the side before following up with another sword strike that shattered the hollow's knee-cap. Once again it let out a pained growl, but its voice became more and more distorted as Chara's knife repeatedly sunk into its neck.

The hollow, while strong in magic was weak in body and under the relentless assault it collapsed. It fell to its knees, managing to fire off one last magical orb, which Frisk easily deflected with their shield, sending it off somewhere into the darkness, before toppling over completely, dead. As it did, a glowing sphere manifested above its corpse and Frisk cautiously reached out to touch it.

Soul of Arcanist Alasan

Soul of Arcanist Alasan, one of many such powerful sorcerers tasked with upholding the magical shielding embedded into the city walls.

With enchanted walls made to keep out the abyss, and a large army tasked with fending off other threats, Arnvolt was thought to be all but unassailable from without.

Ironic then, that the city's inevitable fall had to originate from within.

Chara stood over the body, breathing heavily "Sheesh, that was just about the nastiest hollow I've ever met"

"Indeed" Frisk concurred "And it was the first critter we met, which just tells that me that we really should turn around and head back for Astora"

Chara immediately fixed a set furious red eyes upon the sellsword "Still you persist in giving up!? If you are so afraid of death, then you can turn tail yourself, coward!"

That was it.

"Easy for you to say!" Frisk snapped back "You and your weakling brother are both branded! It's easy for you to be brave when you can't truly die! But you know what? I've done my part. If you two are so deadset on this foolish quest, then fine. But don't come crying to me when you hollow out or your sheepish brother turns into a damn tulip!"

Chara stood stock-still, save for a slight quivering of their lower lip, and eyes burning with barely contained rage.

"You. Take. That. Back..." She said slowly. Just now, Frisk noticed the strangely deadly kitchen knife still clutched in Chara's hand and they tightened their own grip on their sword in anticipation.

When Chara suddenly jumped towards them, they almost smashed their blunt sword into them, only holding back when they noticed Chara hadn't raised her knife or were even aiming for them.

She was aiming for someone behind her.

"ASRIEL! WATCH OUT!" She screamed with desperation.

Frisk made to follow, finding the reason for Chara's sudden outburst, and feeling their heart sink in their chest.

A large rock, fallen from the roof and headed straight towards the prince.

"MOVE, ASRIEL!" Chara screamed, but already Frisk could it was too late.

All they saw was the large rock crashing down into the shocked-looking prince, and him turning into a large gust of dust as it did so.

For a moment, time stood still for Frisk. Sound became naught. The room was quite clearly crumbling- the powerful magic expended by the hollow clearly too much for the ancient stonework to bear. All around them, large boulders and stone were collapsing.

Chara was on her knees, hands on her shaking head.

"No, no, no, no, no, not my brother!" She bawled trough her hysterical fit.

Frisk regarded her in a strange, shocked manner. In the blink of an eye, the prince of monsters had perished and the once hard-boiled cutthroat rogue was bawling like a small child.

The impact of a large rock impacting less than a meter from them woke them up. Immediately, they fell to their knees, grabbing and shaking Chara by her shoulders.

"Hey! Snap out of it! The whole room is coming down, we have to go!"

But Chara only shook her head harder.

"No! Asriel, my brother, he's gone!" She screamed.

"No, he's- he's branded by The Darksign, he'll be back!" Frisk answered, nervously eying the half-opened door to freedom behind them.

"But... we don't where he'll appear! He'll be alone! He doesn't... he can't stand being alone! And in a place like this!" Chara shouted back, at least now looking at Frisk, but from the looks of things they had mere seconds before the whole room collapsed.

"We'll find him, I promise! Just, get up so we can-"

Those were the last words spoken by Sellsword Frisk in this life, as another large roof-tile fell down, crushing both the knight and the rogue to bloody pulp on the floor. The last feelings and sounds Frisk heard in the small fraction of a second in which their life was snuffed out was of their skull and spine cracking under the immense weight.

…

And yet...

This was not to be Frisk's first death.

For those branded by The Darksign, death is a mercy forever denied to them. Instead they are cursed to wander forever as mindless hollows, knowing nothing but hunger, pain and rage until the end of time and the embers rekindling.

But perhaps, the cruelest thing of all is not knowing whether one is cursed or not.

For The Darksign to appear, one has to die at least once. Perhaps fate's own cruel way of dangling sweet release before one's nose before evilly tossing it away, never to be retrieved.

That is what Frisk knew of the fate of those cursed by The Darksign.

And why their first response, when they suddenly opened their eyes beneath the evening sky wasn't to jump in joy and shout in happines at having cheated death.

Instead, they screamed.

They screamed in despair, horror and denial at having been denied just that.

This Dark Adventure is just getting started...

That said, the next chapter I'm gonna write will probably be for The Price of Peace. I'm thinking of making one chapter a week, hopping between these two stories.

But until then, stay safe, hold unto hope and try not to hollow!