Authors' Note:

Hello again! Welcome to another OC chapter! This one introduces characters that were never present in the game, so let me know how you feel about it!

-Tangent

The wind swirled through the valley, disturbing trees and grass as it moved southward through the passage between the hills. The moon shone down upon the small, enclosed area, landing on the small house that sat in the middle of the valley, surrounded by the tall pines.

At the fringe of the forest, a shadow emerged from behind a tree, peering down towards the house. Light streamed from the windows, illuminating the cold, barren ground outside the building.

"Madness." Horace muttered. "This world has gone mad." He pulled his tattered cloak more closely around him, feeling it bump against the staff upon his back. He had traveled far, but he had finally reached it: a place of safety. With a shiver, he recalled what had happened to his friends and family for what felt like the hundredth time. He could not let it happen again, but to prevent it, he must approach the house. He set off through the cold wind once more, slipping and staggering down the steep hill.

An hour later, he emerged slowly from the trees and approached the small, wooden house. He had never been here in person. After all, he had threatened to kill him if he came back ever again. But there was no choice now, and he knocked upon the wooden door. He heard footsteps, and the door burst open to reveal a barefoot, bare-chested man wielding an axe in his hand.

"Who are you?" He demanded. Horace took a step back, then another.

"I need your help." He said, and lowered his hood so that the light fell upon his features for the first time. He had grey hair and a scraggly, unkempt beard. His eyes glittered in the light, and the man in the doorway stepped back, surprise.

"Horace?" Then, his eyes hardened, and he raised the axe again. "Why are you here?" He said dangerously, and the man named Horace raised his hands.

"I need your help, Vincent."

Vincent had let him in quickly, closing and locking the door behind him with a familiar speed.

"Anna is sleeping." He said quietly, pointing to the stairs. "Try not to wake her."

"It has been a long time since I have seen her." Horace said. "Almost five years since you left the village." He was sitting near the fire, grateful for the warmth. Vincent was still standing, running a hand through his short brown hair.

"Yes, well… Answer my question." He seemed almost scared, and Horace would have found the thought funny if he hadn't felt the same way.

"They're gone, Vincent. All of them." Vincent stopped, eyes widening.

"What?"

"The village… everyone… they've all been taken by the monsters." The man opposite him collapsed into a chair.

"… How did it happen?"

"You were right." Horace said, admitting the truth. "She came for us, and I was powerless to stop her."

"And so you ran." Vincent said, eyes boring into him. "You didn't even try to save any of them?" Horace looked at the ground in shame.

"My power was not enough." He grasped the staff on his back, shaking with silent grief. The two were quiet for a moment, and only the crackling of the fire could be heard.

"So, what will we do?" Vincent said. "If she has already taken them…"

"She will come for you." Horace said. "And she will find you soon." Vincent suddenly whirled around.

"Then why come here? Why bring her to my doorstep after all these years of hiding?" His voice grew louder, and he grabbed Horace by the collar. He did not move to defend himself, but merely choked out:

"I… I have a plan…"

"You have a plan? Need I remind you, old man, that your plan is what got the whole village in trouble in the first place?" Vincent was shouting now, his face contorted with rage. "And now you seek to bring me down with you?"

"Daddy?" A small voice came from the stairs, and Vincent stopped quite suddenly. The anger in his face slackened slightly, and he let go of Horace. A little girl with brown hair was standing on the stairs, bleary-eyed. "Why are you fighting?"

"It's nothing, darling." Vincent said, approaching her. "I was just… talking. Why don't you go back to sleep?" He carried Anna up the stairs, and Horace heard her settling down from his position on the floor. Vincent had every right to be angry at him. He had failed them, failed the whole village. But there was a way to make it right. His host returned, looking calmer.

"I'm sorry, Horace. They were your friends as much as mine." Vincent sat across from him. "Tell me what really happened."

"They came from the woods." Horace said quietly. "Dozens of them. Trolls, gryphons… I tried to fight, but there was no chance at all. Edward took Amari and fled into the forest. The rest, I do not know. Cigne ran to protect the children." Cigne was the village healer, the only one besides Horace with some fighting skill. "I fought until I could no more, and then… I ran." Horace looked up at Vincent with sadness. "The town was on fire when I left."

"Curse that witch." Vincent said darkly. "She's been haunting us ever since you defied her authority over us." They sat in silence for a moment, peering into the dwindling flames. Shadows danced upon the walls and Vincent's face. "So what is your plan?"

"I… I hid an artifact within the village a few years ago. I found it while wandering the Land of Man, and I brought it back to the town for study. It was hidden in my house, underneath the floor."

"What does it do?" Vincent asked cautiously.

"I never fully discerned its purpose, but it clearly contained a powerful spell. I think it would grant the user enhanced magical and physical prowess."

"One that could put us on her level?" Vincent asked skeptically, and Horace shrugged.

"Do we have many options?"

"When you put it like that… no." Vincent muttered. Horace extended a hand to him.

"Will you help me?" Vincent stared at him for a moment, then stood up.

"I will. But…" He said, raising a hand. "I want you to swear one thing to me."

"What is it?" Horace asked, standing as well.

"You caused this problem, and I will not forgive you for that. I'm not trusting you out of hand, but I have no other choice. My only stipulation is that you protect Anna." Vincent said. "If she comes to any harm, I'll kill you myself." His eyes were narrowed, and Horace held up a hand in promise.

"I swear. I'll place charms before we leave." Vincent reached over to the wall and pulled an axe from it, spinning it in his hand.

"Then let's go."

Vincent had kissed his daughter goodbye while she slept, a tear rolling down his cheeks.

"Goodbye, Anna. I'll see you soon." He'd said, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the words were a lie.

Now, Horace had led him to the outskirts of the forest after placing a charm upon the cottage. When he had looked back, the house had vanished from view.

"How are we going to get there before she finds us?" He asked, and Horace held up a small scroll.

"Teleportation scroll. This will take us within ten miles of the village, but no closer." They continued on in silence for a few moments, and then Horace stopped.

"We have moved far enough now. Stand close to me." Vincent did, and he hurled the scroll into the air while chanting very quickly. With a flash of light, they were hurled through space to land in the middle of another forest.

"What happened?" Vincent whispered, looking around. The trees were sickly looking, and a thick fog hung over the trees, shrouding the sky and stars. It had a red tinge to it, and Vincent was reminded slightly of blood.

"The witch has done this." Horace whispered back. "Come, we must go." He unstrapped his staff from his back and began moving to the east. Vincent followed wordlessly, unsure of where they were going.

After half an hour, the scenery began to change. The ground began to slope downhill, and the trees grew farther and farther apart.

"I don't understand." Vincent muttered, looking at the remains of a burnt tree. "Why can't the Goddess prevent this? Aren't her daughters here as well?"

"I… do not know." Horace said. "I've heard the Goddess has gone silent."

"And what of the nymphs? Ishtar, Ceri, Nuha…" Vincent said. "Why have they abandoned us?"

"Perhaps they do not know." Horace said.

"Then the witch is far more powerful than we thought." Vincent whispered grimly. After another half hour, Horace raised a hand, pointing ahead. "We are nearly there. Be quiet, now." They proceeded cautiously as the trees vanished, and they emerged onto the edge of a cliff overlooking their hometown.

It had been utterly destroyed. All of the houses had been burned to the ground, leaving only blackened piles of ashes as testament to their places. Cracks webbed the ground, and several fires still blazed in various places.

"No." whispered Vincent. "It is gone." Horace nodded grimly.

"We will avenge it. Come." But he had taken only one step when a howl sounded throughout the woods, echoing through the mists.

"Wolves." Vincent hissed. As more howls sounded, he gripped his axe more tightly. It seemed as though there was a whole pack coming their way, and he remembered how vicious the enchanted beasts were.

"Too many. We have to hide!" Horace said, but Vincent shook his head.

"I'll distract them. You get to the artifact." Horace stopped, staring at him.

"Vincent…"

"Look, I don't like it either, but it's our only chance. I'll lead them off to the south, and you get down there and find that thing. With any luck, I'll get rid of them." They both knew how slim the chances were. The witch's hounds could track a scent for miles, and they only seemed to have gotten better. Behind them, Vincent saw yellow eyes beginning to emerge from the fog. Horace clapped him on the shoulder.

"I will se you later." As he turned away, Vincent began to run down the side of the valley, back into the trees.

The next few minutes were a blur. He dodged from tree to tree, running from the wolves that pounded after him. He heard them snarling and drooling, and knew what would happen if they caught him. As he dodged past a large, curved tree, one of the hounds leapt from the fog, teeth bared.

It was a monstrous imitation of wolf, with matted black fur and spines that erupted from the back menacingly. The yellow eyes matched the teeth that gnashed, and Vincent swung his axe forward in a powerful arc. The sharpened blade caught the creature in the chest and knocked it away, black blood spurting from the wound. But more were coming, and he knew his only chance was to keep running. And so he did, the terrain becoming increasingly more rocky and uneven as he clambered over boulders and up hills. He had entered unknown territory now, and he prayed he would not slip and injure himself.

Twice more, the wolves caught him, and he had to fight for a few seconds. On the third attack, his axe slipped, and a wolf bit him on the arm, causing him to yell and hurl it from him back into the mist that was always present.

I've probably gone.. a few miles? If I can shake them and get back to Horace…" The wolves howled again, drawn to the scent of fresh blood. Vincent ran once more, his legs aching and his lungs burning.

And then he hit a rock wall and stopped. Spinning, he saw the first wolf emerge from the mist, teeth bared.

"Come and get it. You won't have her!" He snarled, and the monster leapt. He slaughtered it, but more were coming, and he knew that he would tire eventually. He took down two, then three, fighting the wolves that came in endless waves…

And then, they stopped suddenly, pausing just outside his vision. Vincent was panting, bleeding from several cuts all over his body. His axe lay limply at his side, covered in blood and fur. It was then that he heard it: footsteps.

"Well, it seems that the game is up." The female voice echoed through the mist, and he stiffened. It was the witch. A dark figure appeared in the mist, surrounded by the creatures. He could not make out her face, but there was no mistaking her cold, evil voice.

"You." He snarled, raising his axe. The wolves stirred, but did not attack. "What do you want?"

"What I want?" The woman said. "Oh, Vincent. You already know why I'm here." Vincent looked around, seeking an exit or a way to escape up the cliffs. "There's no use running. I've got you just where I want you." She raised a hand, and chains burst from the ground, wrapping around his arms and legs and pulling him to the ground. He screamed as the chains wrenched his arms and legs down to the point of near breaking.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked. His axe was just out of reach, but if she stepped just a little closer… His fingers felt for the axe subtly, and the witch stepped closer.

"I've got plans of my own, and they won't work without you and your people."

"We're not special." Vincent groaned. "Why us?" The witch laughed now, a high, cold sound.

"You're right, Vincent! You aren't special. But you will be when I'm done with you." Vincent felt terror rush through him. So this was it.

Horace, it's all up to you now. The woman stepped even closer, and he swung the axe clumsily. She merely stepped aside and kicked him so hard her felt his ribs crack. Vincent screamed again, and she raised her hands. They began to glow red, and Vincent struggled frantically.

"They'll.. they'll stop you! The Goddess.. the nymphs…" He spat, glaring at her.

"My family has been occupied as of late. They cannot stop me where I'm going." The woman said cruelly. "And neither can you, or that pathetic excuse for a sorcerer." The red light brightened, and it was last thing Vincent would ever see.

Horace snuck behind the ruins of a burnt house, panting. There had been several monsters within the village, and he had been sneaking around for at least half an hour. Finally, he had made it to the ruins of his home, near the northern edge of the village. He could still hear the hounds howling, but the sounds were faint.

Just a little longer, Vincent. His house had certainly seen better days. The roof had collapsed, and the rest was little more than a smoldering wreck. Clambering into the wreckage, he moved aside burnt wood and ash, looking for the door to the basement.

"Come on… come on… where is it?" He shifted a large beam aside, and there it was: a metal door set into the stone flooring of the house. It was blackened and warped, but intact. He wrenched it open and pulled out the chest that lay underneath. With shaking hands, he opened and pulled the exquisite necklace from the velvet cushion, feeling the power surging through his palms. It was silver, with a diamond mounted in the center. But he could not study it now. He slipped it into his pocket and rose quietly, looking around to see if anybody had noticed.

A massive flash of red light burst into the sky from the south, and he whirled around, heart pounding.

No… He wanted to deny it, but he knew in his heart what had happened: Vincent was gone.

"Goodbye, old friend. May you find peace, wherever you are." The moment passed, and Horace set off towards the north end of the village. The red light was not a good sign. If she was here…

No, don't think about that. Just keep moving. Get somewhere safe, and then we can avenge them. But where could he go? Apparently the Goddess had closed the gates to her realm, meaning that he was stuck. With little options remaining, he headed back into the forest, the best place to hide at the moment.

As he moved through the trees, he saw a second red light burst into existence from the village. It spiraled into the sky, and Horace looked back. For a brief moment, he thought he saw a shape soaring through the sky, but he blinked, and it vanished. The man kept moving, clutching the necklace that was hidden in his pocket.

He had just passed between two narrow trees that formed an archway when something moved in front of him, swirling through the mists. Unstrapping his staff, he sent a blast of fire at the shadow, but it passed straight through and vanished. A lone figure reappeared through the mist, chuckling.

"Did you really think you could get away?" The witch said, and Horace paled.

"Stay back!" He warned, raising his staff. "I'll… I'll…"

"You'll what?" The woman said cruelly. "Stutter at me? I'm afraid you've lost, Horace. Now, give me the necklace." He paled even more.

"You… know about it?" The witch chuckled again.

"You think I didn't, after all this time?" She lowered her voice. "It is the reason I'm here."

"But why? What does it do?" Horace demanded, summoning more fire to his hand. If he could distract her enough…

"There's no point in telling you." She said with a smirk. "Not when you're about to die." Horace raised his hands, but the witch merely snapped her fingers.

The earth shook, and he staggered to one side. Behind the witch, several large shadows were moving toward her. There were six of them, all different sizes. Two of them loomed over the rest, their footsteps shaking the earth. They emerged into the light, and he stared at the monsters in horror.

Six of the most dangerous beasts he had ever seen were slowly encircling him. There was one that looked like a mix between a wolf and bear, a massive figure with a lone eye in its head, and a chicken that had scales upon its legs. He retreated another step, arms trembling. One of the beasts, a dragon with multiple heads, snarled at him. The witch raised her hand.

"Kill him." They lunged, and Horace ran as fast he could in the opposite direction.

He dodged a blow from the cyclops, which literally cracked the earth as it landed. Knowing that the smallest of them were likely the fastest, he hurled a scroll at the wolfish one, ensnaring it in vines and branches that spurted from the ground. It howled, and Horace kept running.

Suddenly, there was a screech, and one of the creatures swooped down from the sky, wings open and claws bared. He ducked just in time, and the razor-sharp tips cleaved through a nearby rock. But now the dragon was closing in, and it breathed a gout of fire so hot that it melted through the multiple trees between him and the monster. He blocked it with a blast of his own and sprinted through the trees. The two behemoths in the back were coming closer, and he knew his only chance was to get as far away as possible.

Acting swiftly, he pulled two scrolls from his pack: invisibility, and cloaking. Throwing them to the ground, he generated a massive smoke cloud to shield himself from the red eyes of the monsters. He ducked as the claws of the bird passed over him, and he crept away stealthily, cloaked in magic. Behind him, the monsters roared as they tore the forest apart, looking for him.

Half an hour later, Horace ducked behind a boulder, leaning against it while he caught his breath. His legs hurt, and he knew he couldn't keep moving much longer.

I think I lost them. But what on earth are they? He knew of no spell that could summon such powerful creatures. Regardless, he knew he had to keeping going to stay live. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to cast another teleportation spell.

It was then that the smallest beast, the wolf, sprang from the shadows and bit down upon his arm savagely. Horace screamed in pain as the monster snarled, trying to rip his arm off. Summoning fire into his left hand, he slammed the blaze into the face of the beast, sending it flying off of him.

No choice now, I've got to put this one down before the others get here. Did it track me by scent? The wolf circled him, then lunged for his length. Horace slammed his staff down onto its head, driving it to the floor. With his bleeding arm, he cast a spell that flung the monster away and slammed it hard into a tree. As it hit the ground, the wolf rolled over and growled even louder. With blinding speed, it leapt for him again, but Horace had retrieved a scroll from his pack.

This one was rare, but I suppose it's time. As the wolf lunged, the scroll vanished into thin air. Immediately, tendrils of earth shot upward, ensnaring the wolf and dragging it to the ground. The earth opened up, and the monster was swallowed by the earth, which sealed itself after a few moments. The ground quivered for a few seconds, and then went still. Horace slumped to one side, clutching his arm.

That took a lot of my energy. Can't teleport now, but I just need to get farther away… if I can. He staggered to his feet and began moving through the trees. At least I got one of them. Suddenly, he felt a tremendous impact on his back, and he flew headfirst into a tree with a crunch.

Horace tried to rise, but everything was blurry and slow. He managed to roll over, and saw the massive bird creature from before standing over him, claws bared. It did not attack, and he knew that the witch was coming. With a cackle, the mist swirled up into a column, taking the shape of his oldest enemy.

"Well, well." She said. "Look at the trash I found." The monster nearest him backed up as the other four monsters emerged from the mist, standing behind the woman. "I will give you credit though, for taking down one of them. However…" She snapped her fingers, and a dark red light appeared behind her. Horace stared in shock as the wolf reappeared in front of him, not a single mark upon its fur.

"How is this possible?" He whispered. "What forbidden magic are you using?"

"Oh, you'll see soon enough." The woman said. "I have decided that you may be of some use to me after all." She seized his hair and dragged the man up with supernatural strength. "Look at them." She snarled. "What do you see?"

"I…" Horace's eyes moved over each creature. "They are just monsters." She threw him to the ground, cracking several of his ribs.

"Wrong. Try again." He looked harder. Their legs, arms, faces… He went quite still.

He did not know what suspicion he had that made him say the name.

"Vincent?" The wolf creature suddenly shuddered, as though uncomfortable. Horace went deathly pale. "No… No!" He looked at the rest of them, peering into their eyes as though he could discern his friends beneath. "Amari? Edward?" Two more of them seemed to move slightly, and he knew in his heart what had happened. The woman cackled, and he felt strength surge through his veins. He leapt upwards, staff swinging, but the witch merely dodged his strike easily.

"What the hell have you done to them?" He roared, and she laughed even harder as he attacked again. This time, she flicked a beam of red light into his chest, and it blasted him backwards into a rock. He lay there, feeling blood trickle from his chest and arms, where several broken bones had punctured his skin. Tears filled his eyes.

I failed them… This is my fault.

"Now you see." The witch whispered, standing over him. "Give me the artifact." Horace reached into his pocket and pulled it out, the diamond gleaming dully in the dim red light. Her gaze became greedy as she saw it, and Horace knew what he had to do.

If there is one thing left to do before I die… it is to make sure she will never have it. With the last remains of his magic, he cast a fireball into the witch's face, knocking her backwards. The second spell was teleportation, but not for him. With a dull pop, the necklace vanished from his hands as though it had never been there at all. The woman leapt to her feet, rage turning her eyes dark red.

"What did you do, old man?" She kicked him, and he felt his sternum crack. But he laughed at her.

"It's gone now." She lifted him by his neck, his feet dangling limply.

"WHERE IS IT?!" She roared, and he only laughed harder.

"You don't get it?" He choked out. "I teleported it away randomly. Even I have no idea where it's gone, but I do know one thing:" The woman looked at him, her fingers tightening. "It's not in Aveyond anymore. You've lost." With a scream, she threw him aside and whirled on the beasts standing behind her. Her rage exploded, and all of them were flung backwards in a blast of red light. And then, she went still. Horace could not see her face behind her black hair.

"I guess there's only one thing left to do." She hissed, each word sharp and deadly. "Take care of you." She turned back, and he saw that her hands were glowing red once more.

"Kill me, but you'll never find it. The Goddess will stop you." He said, and she laughed bitterly.

"That fool cannot intervene, and you know it."

"But her champions can." Horace said, and he was rewarded with a brief flicker of uncertainty. But then it was gone, and she raised her hands.

"Well, I suppose you'll have to find out. Since you like your precious friends so much, I think I'll let you join them." And then, he knew what she was going to do. "Say goodbye, Horace."

His last thoughts were only of failure, and how the only thing he was leaving behind was broken promises. The red light filled his vision, and all went black.

Ean bolted upright in his bed, a scream caught in his throat. He whirled around, looking for the witch, expecting a flash of red light, but there was nothing. He was in his cabin with the other men on Ava's ship. His memory slowly returned to him. They had been sailing for almost two weeks.

We were going… to Eredar. He remembered fully now, but his mind kept racing through the vision he had just seen. No, not a vision. It was like a memory. The man, Horace, and Vincent, Amari, and Edward… Was that really them? He lay back down on his bunk, staring up at the ceiling.

"But what does it all mean?" He muttered quietly. "Vincent, what really happened to all of you?"

It was hard to return to sleep that night.