Cuvitidala was a desolate land that stretched miles underground. It was underneath a forest, as tangled roots hung and decorated the ceiling. Ithel thought of it more as a cage, but the people of the sparse village thought of it simply as home.
By their alabaster skin and discolored tones, it'd suggest that they and their ancestors have lived underground for centuries. The sunlight never touched the hollow kingdom, and thus it never touched the humans living there. The surface was claimed to be dangerous and overtaken by beasts that ruled with the authority of a Goddess—the surface that was once regarded as the sacred, holy land Thinis, and the alien beast that stole it from mortal hands was the Fell Star.
He wanted to laugh, to scoff. If only his chest didn't hurt so much.
The mind of a dying life taken and inserted into the brain of a child born to underground mole people... of another world. What kind of terrible story is this?
Agartha was practically a gold mine of lore. It was unknown territory no one knew about. The mysterious society that detested Sothis with all their being, and was the people behind the curtain playing puppets with everyone. The ones who slithered in the darkness. Those Agarthans.
Ithel should've been excited. Ecstatic, maybe. He would've been the first to know what Agarthan society was like, their magitek technology was fascinating and possibly the first of its kind to appear in Fire Emblem. He was a lore nerd. He craved it. Though, even if he craved to obtain the mysterious mechanics behind the brains of Those Who Slither, Ithel wasn't protected by a screen.
Cuvitidala was sparse in land and in population. It was once a holy ground dedicated to an ancient pantheon of Thinis. No one was allowed to go in nor was anyone allowed to go out. The old magic from before the Fell Star's ascent still lingered, thus drenching any inhabitant that lived there.
In other words, Cuvitidala was essentially a cage protecting those inside. To those who slither among Agarthans, anyone who comes out was ripe for picking.
As such was Ithel's current situation.
The cell door flung open. Light filtered in. Ithel's body was tossed aside, unconscious. The accidental hitchhiker that stole the boy's body numbly watched in silence. The man in the dark robe delicately lifted Ithel's wrist and watched it drop limply on the crumbling floor.
The man mused. "The boy's dead. Yet, his magical aptitude spiked earlier. Could it be that the Old Gods are angered that we've taken one of their own?" The Agarthan mage left, shutting the door behind him with a click.
For a few moments, the soul decided it was safe. Ithel's corpse trembled before ceasing. The alive-yet-dead boy opened his eyes with a grim face.
Hijacking bodies... is not going to be a regular thing.
But hey, guess who's writing serious fanfic for once? I usually write on the humorous side because it's easy to think about the wackiest things. Serious things make my brain hurt but school is coming to an end in a few weeks and I want to write something to vent. I guess you could say this is the normal fic you come across, serious yet humorous. Everything in one, yeah?
Thus, this came to life.
This first chapter will only serve as a prologue to see how many people like it or is interested. I don't know. It came out of the blue.