D/D Chapter 3 : Forced Journey.
Author's notes: Hey everyone! I'm adding some Nyx facts in my author notes to give you guys a deeper understanding of her character and the significance of her curse in Al's journey. So keep an eye out for these tidbits.
Fact of the Day: Many gods, including Zeus, feared Nyx not because she was malevolent, but due to her unpredictable nature and powers that rivaled even the mightiest deities.
"Speech."
"Thoughts."
The morning sun barely broke through the trees as the village chief walked the familiar path to Al's cabin. The crisp air nipped at his skin, but an uneasy chill settled in his stomach. Accompanied by a couple of villagers, he felt the weight of guilt pressing down on him since he had pushed the responsibility of hosting Lady Nyx onto Al. Knowing Al preferred solitude, the chief regretted thrusting such a burden on someone who cherished their peace. A nagging feeling that something was wrong only heightened his concern.
"Eh, chief, you worry too much," one of the villagers piped up, trying to ease the tension. "What's the worst that could happen, ay?" He chuckled lightly, his tone casual, but the chief's frown only deepened.
"Something doesn't sit right with me…" the chief muttered, shaking his head as unease clawed at him with each step closer to Al's door.
They reached Al's small home, a structure that blended seamlessly into the surrounding greenery. The chief raised his hand to knock, calling out, "Al? You in there?"
Silence met his ears—thick and heavy. After a moment, he knocked again, louder this time. "Oi, Al! Open up!"
When only the rustle of leaves outside answered him, the chief's frown deepened, his heart racing slightly. The door loomed before him, seemingly unyielding, and he hesitated for a second before pushing it open.
The door creaked, echoing in the stillness of the room. As they stepped inside, dread filled their veins at the sight of Al sprawled on the floor, unconscious. Morning light spilled over him, revealing a dark pressure emanating from his form. It was a suffocating presence, palpable and thick, making the air feel heavy with malevolence.
The villagers paused, their eyes wide with fear at the sight before them. The oppressive aura emanating from Al held them back for a moment, but panic soon surged through the crowd. Hesitant yet determined, they approached cautiously, shaking him gently, desperate to rouse him from his unconscious state.
"Al?! Oi, Al! You alright, mate?" one of them called out, the worry evident in his voice.
Kneeling beside him, the chief's hands trembled slightly, urgency clear in his expression. "Wake up, lad. Come on!"
Gradually, Al stirred, a groan escaping his lips as his eyes fluttered open. Disoriented, he blinked against the blurriness that clouded his vision, struggling to make sense of the concerned faces surrounding him. His body felt heavy and drained, as if the very weight of the curse had wrapped around him like a shroud, suffocating his spirit.
As he struggled to gather his thoughts, words eluded him, and he could only manage a soft, "Oh… huh…" Confusion clouded his expression, mirroring the turmoil churning within him.
"Lift him up!" the chief commanded, urgency creeping into his voice. The villagers sprang into action, working together to carefully hoist Al from the floor. Their expressions were a mix of concern and determination as they supported him, ensuring he wouldn't fall again.
"Let's get him to Elysia!" one villager suggests, and they all nod in agreement, hastily making their way out of the house, Al's limp form cradled between them.
As they step outside, the chief glances around, his heart sinking at the realization of Lady Nyx's absence. "Could she… could she have done this?" he mutters to himself, unease twisting in his gut.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the village, in a quiet cabin nestled among the trees, a young woman sat at her desk, savoring a peaceful morning with a cup of herbal tea. The cozy scents of chamomile and dried herbs filled her hut, creating a serene atmosphere that reflected her calm demeanor. Her silver hair was pulled into a loose braid, adorned with small flowers, and her deep blue eyes sparkled with tranquility. Everything seemed idyllic—until a sudden, ear-splitting crash echoed through the room as the door burst open, splintering wood flying everywhere.
"What the—?!" she yelped, nearly spilling her tea. Her heart raced as she jumped to her feet, instinctively ready to defend herself. "Who dares to—?"
But before she could finish, a chaotic group of villagers stumbled in, their voices blending into a mess of shouting.
"Help! You gotta help!" one villager yelled, pale with fear.
"We found him like this!" another exclaimed, gesturing wildly as they carried a limp Al into the room.
Her eyes widened, the shock of the scene making her forget her earlier anger. "What in the world happened?!" she stuttered, her healer instincts now fully kicking in.
"Put him on the bed!" she ordered, panic rising in her voice. The villagers scrambled to follow her command, carefully placing Al on the bed.
"What did you do to him?" she muttered, more to herself as she leaned over Al. "Can't even have a cup of tea in peace…"
The villagers, now catching their breath, looked at her with a mixture of hope and worry. She shot them a glance, her expression firm. "Alright, let me work. You boys stand back."
The villagers stepped back, giving her space, the young woman knelt beside Al and gently checked his pulse. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined him closely, noting the pallor of his skin and the rise and fall of his chest. Tension filled the air, and her frown deepened as she studied his unconscious form. After a tense few moments, relief washed over her as she finally sighed, a hint of a smile breaking through her concern.
"He's stable," she said, standing up straight. "He's in severe shock, but there are no physical injuries that I can find."
The villagers exchanged relieved glances, though the tension still lingered in the air, a heavy reminder of the uncertainty surrounding Al's condition.
The young woman wiped her hands on her coat and looked back at them. "I'll keep an eye on him and inform the chief once he wakes up. For now, let him rest." Her voice softened as she added, "There's not much else we can do."
With a shared nod, the villagers began to disperse, their hearts still heavy with worry, leaving the young woman to watch over Al in the stillness of the room.
After what felt like an eternity, Al stirred, his eyes fluttering open as the world around him gradually came into focus. The familiar scent of herbs filled the dimly lit room, anchoring him in the reality that he was in Elysia's cabin. However, his body felt leaden, as if weighed down by invisible chains, and every movement came with an effort that was far more oppressive than mere fatigue. He sat up cautiously, rubbing his temples in an attempt to clear the fog that clouded his mind. A sinking feeling settled in his chest, a gut instinct whispering that something was wrong—really wrong.
A sharp ache tugged at his heart, and scattered images flashed through his mind. The tea party with Nyx. Their debate. The kiss… and then her curse.
"Within the span of one fleeting year, thou must conquer the one-eyed black beast, a dragon of shadows that haunts this world. Shouldst thou falter in this grave endeavor, thy very essence shall be forfeit, and the cold embrace of death shall come to claim thee."
The memory of those words hit him like a hammer, the weight of her curse wrapping around his soul, cold and suffocating. His hand trembled uncontrollably, panic rising like bile in his throat. He was cursed—forced to face the one-eyed black dragon. A beast of legend, the final boss, The last Monster of the 3 great quests. How was he, a nobody from a forgotten village, supposed to defeat that?
Before he could spiral further into his thoughts, the door swung open, interrupting his despair. A young woman stepped inside, and Al's breath caught in his throat as he whispered, "Elysia…" while looking up at her.
"Oh, you're awake," she said, her tone casual and dismissive. "So what kind of trouble did you get into this time?"
As she approached, an uneasy tension filled the air, and she paused, a frown creasing her brow. "What's with that aura? It feels… dark." Her eyes narrowed slightly as if she could sense a miasma radiating off him, an unsettling energy that instinctively made her take a step back.
Al's frustration bubbled over, his heart racing as he replied, "I'm fucking cursed!"
Her dismissiveness faltered for a moment, replaced by concern as she assessed him more seriously. "Cursed? Really? How?"
He clenched his fists, his voice rising with anger. "That bitch of a goddess I hosted last night cursed me to fucking death! I have one year to lift it!"
Elysia's expression shifted from skepticism to shock, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Did she mention what you need to do to lift this curse?"
"Kill the fucking one-eyed black dragon," he snapped, his fists clenching in anger and fear.
For a moment, the silence between them felt like an eternity. Elysia's brows knitted together, her initial nonchalance replaced by genuine concern. "The Black Dragon?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Al, that's... that's impossible." Her heart raced as the gravity of his words settled in.
Al leaned forward, his voice low but intense. "Do I look like I'm fucking joking?" Desperation bled into his tone as he locked eyes with her, willing her to understand the hopelessness of his situation.
Elysia bit her lip, her mind racing. For a moment, she was lost in thought, her gaze distant as if trying to grasp something just out of reach. Then, slowly, she spoke. "I think… I think there might be another way."
Al's eyes narrowed. "How?"
"There's a healer in Orario," Elysia said, her voice steady but laced with urgency. "Airmid Teasanare, the Dea Saint. She's the best healer in the world, known for breaking curses—even ones as powerful as this. If anyone can help you, Al, it's her."
He blinked at her, the weight of her words sinking in. Orario? The city of adventurers, gods, and monsters? His heart pounded, his thoughts racing, "That's… that's a world away." he muttered.
Running a hand through messy hair, Al tried to make sense of everything. "How the hell am I supposed to get there? And what then? Just walk up to the best healer in the world and ask for help?"
Elysia folded her arms, watching him carefully. "You don't have a choice, Al. If you don't do this, you'll die. You've got a year, and time's already ticking."
He scoffed, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "Yeah, no pressure, right? Just hop over to Orario, get a saint to fix my little curse, and everything's fine."
Elysia didn't flinch at his tone. She stepped forward, her gaze softening but still serious. "It's your only option, Al. Orario's the only place that can offer you help. Staying here will only get you killed."
A heavy silence settled between them, the weight of her words pressing on his chest. Al stared at the floor, his mind whirling. Orario wasn't just far—it was dangerous. But what choice did he have?
After a long moment, he let out a slow breath, rubbing his eyes. "Fine. Orario it is."
Elysia's expression softened, relief flickering across her features, but she knew the gravity of the situation was far from resolved. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, the urgency of Al's condition weighing heavily on her mind. "I'll inform the chief about what happened," she said, her voice steady. "He needs to know."
With that, she stepped out of the room, giving Al a moment to himself in the hopes that he could gather his resolve. As she left, she found the chief sitting at his desk, furrowing his brow in thought.
Concern etched across his face, he looked up at her. "Elysia, what happened? Is Al alright?"
Taking a deep breath, she began to explain, her words tumbling out in a rush. "He's cursed. Nyx—the goddess—she… she gave him a year to kill the one-eyed black dragon. If he doesn't, he'll die. He needs to go to Orario looking for a healer that can break the curse."
The chief's expression shifted from worry to shock, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Th-the Black Dragon?!" he echoed, his voice barely a whisper.
"Yes," Elysia confirmed, her tone serious. "He can't stay here. It's too dangerous for him, and Orario is the only place that can offer him help."
A heavy silence hung in the air as the weight of their conversation settled between them. The chief's mind raced, torn between his fear for Al and the urgency of the situation. Elysia's gaze hardened, worry etched on her features.
The midday sun broke through the clouds, casting a warm glow over the village. Al stepped outside, the familiar sights and sounds wrapping around him like a comforting embrace, yet they felt oddly distant. The laughter of children and chatter of villagers filled the air, a bitter reminder of what he stood to lose, propelling him into the uncertainty ahead.
As he walked toward the forest, the reality of his decision settled in. This was his home, a place he often loathed for its suffocating familiarity. Still, nostalgia tugged at him, a weight he couldn't shake. He had to move on; a mission awaited him, and lingering would only deepen the ache of leaving.
Reaching his small cabin nestled among the trees, he paused at the door. Taking a moment to gather himself, he inhaled the familiar scent of wood and earth before stepping inside.
Inside, Al moved quickly, gathering his belongings for the journey ahead.
He packed essential provisions: dried fruits, jerky, bread, and a canteen of water. Camping gear—a small tent, a bedroll, and some flint for starting fires followed.
Al then retrieved his spear from the corner—a keepsake from his late father, who had once served as a guard in the western kingdom of Rakia. The weapon, though worn, was a reminder of the lessons his father had instilled in him: survival, resilience, and the art of combat. Living alone in the forest had made those lessons essential, and the spear had become his constant companion, fending off the monsters that lurked beyond the safety of the trees.
But even those familiar threats paled in comparison to the task ahead.
That night, sleep evaded him. Al lay in bed, staring at the wooden beams above, each minute dragging painfully by. Anxiety gnawed at him—thoughts of the curse, the Black Dragon, and the dangers awaiting him in Orario clouded his mind. He was scared, truly, for the first time. And no matter how hard he tried, the looming uncertainty refused to let him rest.
The hours bled together, restless and heavy, until the first hints of dawn crept through the cracks in the cabin walls. Al hadn't slept a wink, his mind still racing. But as the soft light filtered in, it felt like a reminder—time wouldn't wait for him. The journey had to begin.
With a resigned sigh, he swung his legs out of bed and stood. The day had arrived.
He dressed up quickly, and after preparing a simple breakfast of bread and dried fruit, he double-checked his belongings, making sure everything was packed for the road ahead. Once satisfied, he stepped outside.
The familiar sounds of the forest greeted him—the rustling leaves, distant birds, the faint breeze. For a moment, he paused and took one last look at the cabin, the place that had been his sanctuary for so long. Memories of his parents, of the quiet life they'd built together, flooded his mind, bittersweet in the face of his departure.
But there was no turning back.
His footsteps were steady as he took the familiar path, this time toward the village graveyard. Each step felt heavier, as if the land itself was pulling him back into the past. The road ahead was uncertain, but the memories of those he'd lost would push him forward.
As he approached, the morning light illuminated the tombstones, enhancing the solemn atmosphere surrounding the resting place of his loved ones. The gentle rays seemed to soften the harsh edges of reality, but his heart still ached as he entered. The sight of the graves reminded him of the void their absence left in his life.
Taking a deep breath, he knelt before his parents shared grave, the weathered stone a testament to the love and memories they once shared.
"Mom, Dad," he began, his voice low and shaky. "It's been a while, but now it's going to be longer. I… I got cursed, and now I have to travel to Orario to find someone who can break it." He paused, taking a deep breath as the emotions surged within him. "So, uh, watch over me. Shit ain't gonna be easy for a while, but I promise I'll come back. So, until next time, take care."
He paused again, feeling the weight of his emotions shift slightly. "I'll figure it out, I won't let this curse change me."
With a deep breath, Al pushed forward, his pace quickening until he finally reached the village gate. The sight of gathered villagers greeted him, their faces a mix of support and concern. Quiet murmurs filled the air as they offered words of encouragement, urging him to return victorious and promising to welcome him home quickly.
"Just stay safe out there, Al!" one villager called, a hint of worry in their voice.
"Remember, we're all counting on you!" another added.
Al managed a half-hearted smile despite the knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be back before you know it." The words felt hollow, but he forced them out, trying to mask the uncertainty gnawing at him.
The chief stepped forward, a solemn expression on his face. He handed Al a pouch filled with money. "All of us chipped in for your journey. Use it wisely." He paused, offering a quiet prayer for Al's safe travels. "You can do this. We believe in you."
Al nodded, securing the pouch around his waist, a rush of gratitude swelling within him for the village's support. He turned to the gathered villagers, managing a lopsided smile. "Don't worry, I won't screw this up… probably."
After exchanging a few quick goodbyes, he dug into his pocket and pulled out the rare valis coin his father had given him. And with a firm bite, he felt a wave of comfort wash over him, a reminder of home and the strength he'd need to tackle whatever nonsense awaited him on this ridiculous journey.
As he set off, the villagers began to scatter, each returning to what they were doing. Only Elysia and the chief remained, watching him go. Elysia cast the chief a sidelong glance. "You doomed him, didn't you?"
The chief stuttered, "T-There's nothing we can do now... all that's left is to hope for his safety."