The water droplets dripped onto the rigid, stony surface for a long amount of time, which Richard spent motionless in a strong limbo. When he was finally conscious again the sound of the dripping prompted him to open his eyes.

And yet, he was determined not to; he was paralyzed in intense fear and was content with the little ignorance he had left. The coldness of the stony floor was starting to get to him, too. It felt like it was impaling his shoulder blades. Eventually, a chilling burst of wind coerced him to open his eyes and sit on his bottom, his torso off the ground.

At first, the overbearing darkness that engulfed the room was too much for Richard to see anything. Having better to do than stare into the darkness, his eyes rapidly adjusted to the blackness. The room looked like some sort of a dungeon cell. Richard was horrified by the realization; the door of metal bars was separating him from the eerie, barely illuminated corridor with the cell on the other side of the wall consumed in total darkness.

THUD

THUD

Richard grasped the sides of his head in panic; he knew nothing about the source of the echoing footsteps, but it was probably getting closer and closer. He frantically crawled around his dungeon cell sensing nearby objects with his trembling hands, searching for any sort of a potential hiding place. When his fingers came in touch with some sort of a primitive bed, he mind froze for a second before the ever increasing volume of the echoing footsteps urged him to crawl under the cell bed.

He waited in motionless, breathless almost, as an otherworldly and raspy breathing joined the audible echoing steps that were now originating very close to Richard. The hair on his forearms rose as the steps abruptly stopped, allowing Richard to further examine the irregularity of the hoarse, disturbing breathing; it kind of sounded like the originator was deeply sick and made Richard wish he, she or it would leave as soon as possible. To his relief the entity didn't stay dormant for too long; it begun generating step sounds that were ever increasingly lesser in volume, signifying that it was – thankfully – going away.

Even when nothing could be heard after the sound of the steps had diminished completely it took Richard a long amount of time to liberate himself from his limbo. Scouting in the darkness for any acoustical indication of sound, stretched his perception of time like it was a piece of rubber. When he finally decided to do something about his situation he timidly crawled out from under the bed, still having no idea of what he should do next.

He stayed on his knees for a long time his eyes long adjusted to the darkness. He stared at his cell door equally long and after no horrifying sound emerged from the depths of the building, he timidly approached the door in order to inspect it. He expected it to be locked. After all, what good is a cell door that is unlocked? So, when the door moved slowly and audibly under his influence, he was very surprised.

He stopped in his tracks yet again before a slightly open cell door, terrified of the prospect of being spotted by whomever. After further inactivity however Richard decided to take the risk and go through with his plan. He opened it a bit more; just as much as it was needed for him to go through and found himself in a depressing and long hallway that extended in both directions, cell rooms left and right. He grasped his clothes in awkwardness, baffled as to what to do next.

"I'm still in my pajamas… aren't I?" he realized.

He walked the corridor warily hoping he wouldn't bump into anything similar to whatever the originator of the hoarse breathing was. Richard overall felt as if he was picked up and tossed into that nightmare he had days ago once again. The locale was different but the atmosphere and vibe of despair we all too similar.

If this was some sort of dream as he hoped it was, he'd eventually wake up. Perhaps all he'd have to do was to be patient. But it was too real. A little bit too real for him to believe that he would simply wake up within the next five minutes. The nightmare was too real too, as well as that dream in which the man with the long nose had talked to him.

"Am I getting crazy?" Richard came to a halt as he steadied himself with his palm on the dungeon wall. "I'm just an ordinary person…" he repeated inwardly over and over. The corridor was diverging now, allowing for two different routes; one straight ahead and one to the left. But how could he choose which way to go? There was no way that all of this was happening.

And yet it was as far as he could tell, real. Wandering inside here, going to school, eating and talking to uncle Leonard all were equally real experiences. Was it all real or was it all… not real?

His thoughts were interrupted when he spotted something moving in the darkness ahead. It got closer and closer, but Richard was completely frozen in his tracks, his eyes widened in their effort to spot the figure in the darkness.

It was slightly larger than him, like an adult. However it was quite slouched. It moved awkwardly with its arms wildly swinging with each movement of its body. It was moving wholly unnaturally, like badly animated clay animation that Richard remembered watching over the internet when he was younger.

It stepped into the light revealing its black body that was covered in terrifying, inhuman unblinking eyeballs. Its head was like more like a worm's and less like a man's, except for the fact that it had two wide open eyes and a grinning mouth. It was wearing rugs that covered some of its skinny, clay-like body.

Richard felt disgusted by the sight, his body finally unfreezing itself and bending to his will.

He ran as fast as he could through the route on his left, indifferent to the possibility of attracting more unwanted attention.

He only stopped when his face collided with a metallic surface, causing him to slip and fall down. As he grasped his nose in his attempt to relieve himself of the pain he looked up to see what he had collided onto.

He first saw something akin to a shield. A knight's shield worn out from the passage of time. It was held in front of a battle ready warrior who was looking at Richard in surprise.

He was covered from neck to hips with a buff white jacket, his legs and arms protected by metal plates and gauntlets. His head was protected by a hat-like helmet. But the most notable aspect of this warrior was the beak and feathers on his face.

As the clay-like monster from before stopped 4 meters away behind Richard, joined by two others of its kind, the crow-headed knight simply shoved Richard aside with his shield and proceeded to walk towards his adversaries.

He held his sword tightly, the rest of his body relaxed and yet on alert. He lifted and steadied his shield on his hip as the clay-people approached one by one, their sickening grins never leaving their mouths.

"Have at me scoundrels!" he declared defiantly with his weird voice tone; an unprecedented mix of talking and cawing.

The first one, encouraged by its opponent's challenge closed the distance. Its weapon, a rusty short sword, was far smaller than the Crow-Knight's longer sword, who used his greater range to his advantage casually slicing through its neck. The stumbling clay-man was further distanced by a well performed straight kick that landed on its abdomen, knocking it to the ground.

The second clay-man approached aiming clumsily for the Crow-Knight's head, but the attack was effortlessly nullified when he raised his shield. At the same time, he slashed at its ribs taking it down instantly.

The third one stepped forward more cautiously its short sword raised warily, all of its eyeballs tracking the Crow-Knight carefully. It was nonetheless taken by surprise by a well-aimed attack towards its right knee that caused it to fall over. It was finished off by a thrust to its torso.

"Well, that takes care of that…" he "cawed" smugly.

Richard was sitting by the dark, humid wall in total shock, having just the witnessed the death of these 3 beings. He wasn't sure about the intentions of the Crow-Knight either; he could be planning to murder him for all he knew. And yet his body betrayed him; he couldn't move no matter how hard he tried.

These creatures were wearing torn rugs – next to nothing – and yet they had attacked the Crow-Knight at the cost of their lives. Why? They behaved like mindless sacks of clay but Richard couldn't shake the feeling these creatures had some of a purpose being here. Something undoubtedly linked them to this place.

"Well then" declared the Crow-Knight, his cawing echoing within the hallway, "Where were we?"

He turned to Richard, giving the young boy a momentary glimpse into his psyche. Richard reacted as if he was electroshocked. He felt the imminent danger of death. He fumbled around the humid wall until he was stopped by the grip of the Crow-Knight.

"You evaded me days ago, but your luck runs out today!"

He raised Richard to his feet by the grip on the boy's neck of shirt.

"W-what do you mean?" was all Richard could say, his forehead soaked in sweat.

"You brought a person here… why? What did you to him?" said the Crow-Knight, his patience visibly dwindling.

"I've never been here before!" shouted Richard, making sure to tell the truth before his fear could paralyze his vocal chords.

"Silence fool!" he said pulling and pushing Richard back to the wall violently, "I'd have no qualms leaving you to their mercy! Speak up while you still can!"

"I-ah," Richard panted, trying to focus, "I have no idea how I even came here… it was an accident! I don't know who you're after but this is the first time I've been here!"

The Crow-Knight stared at Richard's eyes, seemingly glimpsing into the boy's psyche. For a while only the rhythmic eerie dripping could be heard, until the Crow-Knight finally settled his inward debate.

"Fine," he signed, "I can verify your words… but you must follow me. You can forget getting out of here alive if you try anything funny…" he finished with a stern look on his face.

Richard felt his body relaxed and the captured air finally escaped his lungs. Although his ordeal wasn't over yet, it looked like he did have a chance on staying alive.

"Get over here!" ordered the Crow-Knight, "in the front!"

…

The unfitting pair walked for what must have been half an hour when they finally reached the courtyard of the desolate fort, Richard in the front and the Crow Knight just behind him, sword unsheathed.

The sky was heavily clouded mostly hiding the lethargic sun, but it still was way brighter out here than within the fort. It was pretty humid though – even out here. The intense humidity attacked Richard's nose causing his senses to be briefly heightened. He stopped, risking injury from the tip of the Crow-Knight's sword.

His eyes travelled all along the melancholic scenery enjoying what was left of the architecture; it wasn't much but it had a quite distinct style. It mostly compromised of destroyed columns and walls with an arc here and there, all of it inhabited by a plethora of dully green moss from beginning to end. It gave Richard an impression that he was staring straight into the past. Up ahead in the distance there was a large closed door, oddly inviting with its beautiful embellishments on its surface, despite its obvious wear.

He'd seen a lot of photos and visited some museums too with his father when he was younger, but he had never felt so mesmerized by anything archeological before, and couldn't put his finger on why either. He had never appreciated anything of the sort before and, until now, he didn't think there was much to appreciate anyway.

"What's the matter?" cawed the Crow-Knight behind him.

"Nothing… I guess I like what I'm seeing, honestly." said Richard with newfound tranquility.

The Crow-Knight did not speak. Instead he "hmphed" deeply indicating that he was in deep thought. Perhaps he had never stopped to look at some old stones, thought Richard. Then again, neither had he in the past.

"Alright then, let's move out…" declared the Crow-Knight reluctantly, still in deep thought.

"We're going through that gate, right?" asked Richard, orienting his head to the side.

"Yes," replied the Crow-Knight sternly, "I suggest that you get it open right away."

Richard said nothing; he approached the old door with his eyes fixated on its worn wooden surface. He touched the big iron handle that was covered in rust and slowly pulled it open. It revealed a rather spacy room full of ceramic pots; but the room was otherwise empty. Like before reaching the courtyard, it was quite dark, but at least the damaged roof was allowing for some of the sun's rays to pass through.

Richard hesitated; The Crow-Knight motioned for him to get in.

The room smelled intensively of mucus and closed, tight spaces; as any room would smell if you hadn't opened the windows for a long time. Richard thought that it didn't make much sense; the roof was damaged and thus there should be air circulating. And yet not only did the room smell unpleasantly, it felt unpleasantly too. Richard didn't want to be there and felt that the room itself didn't want him there either.

The dim lighting allowed Richard to spot a door on the wall to the left, towards the end of the room. The entrance was almost completely covered by the assortment of ceramic pots everywhere.

"Is this a warehouse? Or –"

"Keep quiet!" the Crow-Knight cut him off.

After standing in front of the entrance for whole minutes the Crow-Knight finally decided for the both of them to move to the center of the room. He poked Richard, urging him to move forward. The pair slowly walked forward making as little noise as possible. They halted yet again when they reached the center, allowing Richard to spot a couple of broken pots here and there.

CRASH!

It sounded like a wall being collapsed, and seconds later it was accompanied by the striking sounds of ceramics breaking. Richard was caught in complete shock, instinctively turning his head to the right, frozen in place.

"Curses!"

Before his brain and eyes could register anything he felt a strong force push him meters forward, causing him to land on the stone floor face down.

He heard loud footsteps, growling and more hoarse breathing. In panic, he inelegantly crept forward not daring to look back as gigantic object was being rammed on the ground.

"Over here you dalcop!" the Crow-Knight cawed.

The taunt was immediately followed by the striking sound of ceramic and stone breaking, and the roar of an irritated beast.

Richard, after having crept an additional distance from his original position, rolled on his back to have a look on the nightmare that was taking place behind him.

The beast was vaguely humanoid and very tall; at first it looked like a shiny, indistinguishable mass of fat with arms and legs. As it moved about in an effort to hit the Crow-Knight with a massive club it revealed more of its features to Richard; its body was covered in several thin protrusions that generated light.

Suddenly and without warning, the monster oriented its head towards the boy, causing it to move about aimlessly in a state of acute terror. The head of a creature resembled a monstrous angler fish that one could find in the depths of the ocean, with distorted facial features that resembled a tragedy mask. It roared menacingly and walked towards a terrified Richard brandishing its enormous club.

Thankfully it was distracted when a dirtied and messy Crow-Knight cut deeply into its left leg (from Richard's perspective) with his longsword. "Go upstairs, fool!" he cawed as he swiftly stepped backwards dodging the monster's grip. But his luck ran out as a wild swing of the club launched him onto the midst of numerous ceramic pots by the wall.

Smoke and dust was lifted off the ground but the brave knight remained prone on the floor, allowing the monster to freely attend to the defenseless boy who awkwardly crept backwards in despair. As the monster approached, Richard started noticing a big mass attached to its back, serving as weight that that the monster appeared to constantly carry around. It kept snarling in succession as it get closer and closer, but something progressively muffled the threatening roar until it was but a whisper in the dimly lit room.

His vision was blurred. He tried standing up as well as he could, while he felt the vibrations caused by the monster's steps.

THOU ART I

Richard, practically blind, stumbled backwards. Though he could not see the threat in front of him, he could feel its malevolent intent as well as the club's windup.

I ART THEE

Richard stood in shock as felt a powerful torrent of warm wind emanate from his solar plexus. A word appeared in his mind, marking itself into his consciousness like hot iron.

"PERSONA!"

Two ashen hands gripped the club.

The monster snarled in a mix of irritation and fear.

No matter how hard it tried, it could not regain control of the club.

"You very well know that this is useless," said an otherworldly deep voice that resembled many people talking at the same time, "it would be best if you forfeited."

The monster stayed quiet for several seconds as if it was contemplating. Meanwhile Richard's senses were returning to normal, allowing him to perceive his protector in detail.

The armored giant that was contending for the club's possession was covered in ashen silk, twirling around him the warmest summer breeze. The ornate, bearded helmet obscured most of the figure's charcoal face save for two glaring crimson eyes. The ornate helmet had a distinct ancient greek flavor that clashed with the rest of the equipment, which bore a European style unknown to Richard. A large oval shield was strapped to the back of the gigantic warrior. The red and black colors of the warrior's attire made for a beautiful if not frightening sight.

The monster regained its confidence within the interval of silence. It tried to regain control of its weapon once again, only have its face head-butted.

It let go of its weapon immediately, backing away as it covered its face with its monstrous webbed hands in pain.

"I shall not be made a fool of." declared the warrior with his otherworldly voice, his intention to kill all too clear. He dropped the club and swiftly delivered a blinding left jab to the monster's face, followed by an unexpected straight kick. The monster cried in pain, oblivious to the incoming right jab.

It resulted into a temporary knock out that caused the monster to fall on the floor with an intense vibration that travelled all around the building, causing the roof to tremble and a couple of debris to drop here and there.

The helmeted warrior unsheathed a peculiar weapon that Richard had never seen before. It resembled a katana, except for the fact that the curvature was oriented downwards.

"May you receive a better fate at your next life." He said as he circled his dizzy and prone opponent.

He grasped the long handle of his sword with both hands and delivered a deep diagonal cut into the monster's flesh.

It let a deafening scream escape its mouth, but it was in vain; it bled to death quickly drenching the floor tiles with its blood.

That monstrosity had just tried to kill him; yet Richard found himself averting his line of sight from the disgusting, fatty body that had bled to death; he felt extremely dirtied witnessing the event, almost as if it was polluting his very being.

Further inspection of the fatty corpse reminded Richard of the undefined mass of flesh attached to its back. It heavily resembled another separate body had been sewed to its back.

"Guilt." said the ashen warrior plainly, turning to Richard.

The giant's dark red eyes kept looking at Richard with a questioning look that had the boy at a loss. It was as the giant was expecting something out of him but Richard wasn't in the mood to ponder; he was merely glad to be alive.

"I suppose you are unaware of who I am, is that right?" asked the armored giant.

Richard, lacking the willpower and sanity to do anything else simply nodded.

"I am Derzelas. I am the patron of physical and mental vitality, lord of the underworld, master of reincarnation, provider of abundance, wielder of lightning and grantor of philosophy and knowledge!" he roared, his voice echoing all over the dimly lit room.

"Most importantly, I am you and you are me." He calmly added when the echo had subsided, disappearing into a silky veil of ash.

Richard dumbfounded as he was simply sat down, his mind completely devoid of any sort of activity, thought or process. His mind remained dormant and inactive for quite a while, until a distraction revealed itself.

"You've rescued both of us! Well done sire!"

"Huh?"

The Crow-Knight's weapon was sheathed, his shield was strapped to his back and he was visibly limping; he did not emerge unscathed from the impact with the gigantic club. Despite his impaired walking and blood-stained and dirtied armor he had a remarkable and unexplained air of confidence and eagerness about him, to the point where he was almost a different person. Before Richard could fully come to his senses, he was grabbed and forced to get up by the beaked warrior.

"T-thanks… mister…eh…"

"Call me Corbelus Schwarz young sire! At any rate we must go upstairs before more of them arrive!" he said with an unprecedented, friendly and helpful attitude that had Richard pondering during their ascendance. The knight was close to killing him and constantly had him at his sword's reach at all times. So what was responsible for this sudden change in his demeanor?

The pair came to a halt when they arrived before an arced door covered in intense and blinding fog.

"I have the suspicion that going through this gate will enable you to return to whence you came from, young sire!" he explained eagerly.

"Uh, my name is Ric-…"

He was pushed into the deep fog before he could properly introduce himself.

…

He was ejected through the old VCR straight onto the bed's footboard, loudly hitting it with notable force.

"Ouch…!" he said, rubbing his head and making sure to get his legs out of the VCR without throwing it off the bedside table.

He was stressed, exhausted and wanted nothing else but to fall into a deep slumber. Seeing as his pajamas were very dirty though, that would have to wait.

He approached his haversack in order to get out a spare set of pajamas, and sneaked like a thief into the bathroom to change and throw the stained pair into the laundry basket. He thought he was very lucky that the bathroom was upstairs, like the rooms.

Returning to his room was a task that happened with utmost caution. Once inside he switched the light on, closed the door, switched the light off and dived into his bed as quietly as possible

He changed orientation numerous times before managing to fall asleep, his consciousness swimming in a sea of images; dungeons, swords, shields, castles and beautiful columns from a bygone era.