There was a problem   

They were planning to follow the road up to the mountain pass and then over it, getting as far away from the scene of the massacre as they could before the night came. However, the road was no more. At some point during the last months, or maybe even just yesterday, a terrible rockfall occurred, obliterating whole segments of the narrow roadway and making its other parts untraversable. Sunny stood on the precipice of a vast chasm, looking down with no particular expression on his face. "What do we do now?" Scholar's voice was muffled by the collar of his scavenged fur cloak. His follower, Shifty, angrily looked around. His gaze stopped at Sunny - a suitable victim to vent his frustration. "I'll tell you what we need to do! Get rid of some dead weight!" He eyed Sunny's fine boots and turned to Hero: "Listen, your lordship. The boy is too weak. He is slowing us down! Plus, he's weird DOTSII I Int give you int tittps: The young soldier answered with a judgemental frown, but Shifty wasn't done. "Look! Look how he's glaring at me! I swear to gods, ever since he joined the caravan, nothing had gone right. Maybe the old man was right: the boy is cursed by the Shadow God!" Sunny struggled to not roll his eyes. It was true that he was unlucky: however, the whole truth was opposite to what Shifty was trying to insinuate. It was not that he had attracted misfortune to the slave caravan; on the contrary, it was because the caravan was doomed to begin with that he had ended up here. Scholar cleared his throat: "But I've never said that..." "Whatever! Shouldn't we get rid of him just in case?! He can't go on for much longer anyway!" Scholar gave Sunny a strange look. Perhaps Sunny was getting paranoid, but there seemed to be a bit of calculating coldness in the older slave's eyes. Finally, Scholar shook his head. "Don't be too hasty, my friend. The boy might prove useful later on." "But..." Hero finally spoke, putting an end to their quarrel. "We're not going to leave anyone behind. As for how much longer he'll be able to endure just worry about yourself." Shifty clenched his teeth, but then just waved a hand. "Fine. So what do we do then?" The four of them looked at the broken road, then down the slope of the mountain, and finally up, where a sheer cliff wall was broken apart by the falling rocks. After a bit of silence, Scholar finally spoke: "Actually, in the old days, there used to be a path leading to the peak of the mountain. It was sometimes used by pilgrims. Later, the Empire had widened parts of the path and built a proper road on top of it -now leading to the mountain pass instead of the peak, of course." He looked up. "The remnants of the original path should still be somewhere above us. If we reach it, we should be able to find our way back to the undamaged section of the road." Everyone followed his gaze, shifting uncomfortably at the prospect of climbing the treacherous slope. Except for Hero, of course, who remained as calm as a saint. Due to the rockfall, the slope wasn't an almost vertical wall anymore, but still, the incline was quite sharp. Shifty was the first one to speak: "Climb that? Are you insane?" Scholar helplessly shrugged. "Do you have a better idea?" No one did. After a bit of preparation, they began the ascent. Shifty and Scholar stubbornly carried the weapons they had picked up off the dead soldier's bodies, but Sunny, with some regret, decided to leave his newfound short sword behind. He knew that this climb was going to test the limits of their endurance. The sword might not have seemed to be that heavy right now, but every extra gram of weight was bound to feel like a ton all too soon. As the weakest member of the group, he was already struggling to keep up, so there wasn't a lot of choice. Shedding a few kilograms of iron was the right thing to do. Walking up the mountain road with the weight of the supplies on his shoulders was already hard enough, but climbing up the mountain itself turned out to be pure torture. Just half an hour later, he felt like his muscles were going to melt, with his lungs on the verge of imploding. Clenching his teeth, Sunny continued to move forward and up. He had to constantly remind himself to watch his footing, too. On this unstable, icy slope one misstep was enough to send a man tumbling down to his death. 'Just think about something pleasant,' he thought.

  But what happy thoughts could he summon? Failing to come up with something else, Sunny began to imagine what reward he was going to receive at the end of this trial. The boon of the First Nightmare was the most important thing given to an Awakened by the Spell. Sure, later trials could provide them with more abilities and vastly improve their power. But it was this first one that determined what role an Awakened would be able to play, how great their potential would be, and what price they would have to pay... not to mention giving them the necessary tools to survive and grow in the Dream Realm. The main benefit of the First Nightmare's Boon was simple, yet possibly the most important: after completing their trial, Aspirants were bestowed with the ability to perceive, and interact with, Soul Cores. Soul Cores were the basis of one's rank and power. The stronger your Core was, the greater your might would grow. The same went for Nightmare Creatures, with a deadly caveat that, unlike humans, they could possess multiple cores a lowly beast had just one, but a tyrant like Mountain King had five. Coincidentally, the only way to improve your Soul Core was to consume Soul Shards scavenged from the corpses of other Dream Realm inhabitants. That's why Awakened went out of their way to battle powerful Nightmare Creatures despite the risk of death. The second benefit was less straightforward, but nevertheless vital. After completing the First Nightmare, Aspirants were elevated to the rank of Dreamers - colloquially known as Sleepers - and gained access to the Dream Realm itself. They would enter it on the first winter solstice after passing the trial and remain there until an exit was found, thus becoming fully Awakened. That time between finishing the First Nightmare and entering the Dream Realm was very important, as it was the last chance to train and prepare yourself a person would receive. In Sunny's case, that time was only about a month, which was as bad as it gets.

 And then there was the final benefit, unique to every Aspirant passing the trial... the first Aspect Ability. This was the "magic power" that elevated Awakened above mundane humans. Aspect Abilities were diverse, unique, and powerful. Some could be categorized into types - like combat, sorcery and utility - but some were simply beyond imagination. Armed with the power of their Abilities, Awakened had been able to save the world from the flood of Nightmare Creatures. However, that power came with a catch. With their first Ability, every Awakened also received a Flaw, sometimes called the counter. These Flaws were as diverse as Abilities, ranging from comparatively harmless to crippling, or, in some cases, even fatal. 'I wonder what type of Ability a temple slave would get, Sunny thought, not too optimistic about his prospects. 'The choice of Flaws, on the other hand, seems to be almost limitless. Let's hope my Aspect will evolve at the end of this fiasco. Or, even better, change completely

If the Aspirant performed especially well, there was a chance of his given Aspect going through an early evolution. Aspects, just like Soul Cores, had ranks based on potential power and rarity. The lowest rank was called Dormant, followed by Awakened, Ascended, Transcendent, Supreme, Sacred and Divine although no one has ever seen the last - one. 'With the amount of crap it had put me through, the Spell - if it has any conscience has to give me at least an Awakened Aspect. Right? Or maybe even an Ascended one!' Finally, there was a tiny possibility of receiving a True Name - something like an honorary title bestowed by the Spell to its favorite Awakened. The name itself had no benefit, but every famous Awakened seemed to have one. It was considered to be the highest mark of excellence. However, the number of people who had managed to get a True Name during their First Nightmare was so small that Sunny didn't even bother thinking about it.

Who needs excellence? Give me power!' He cursed, feeling that this attempt at wishful thinking had only made him more depressed and angry. 'Maybe I'm allergic to dreaming.' An allergy like that would be truly ironic, considering that he was destined to spend half of his remaining life in the Dream Realm - if he even survives long enough to get there, that is. However, Sunny's mental escapade was not completely useless. Looking up from the slippery rocks under his feet, he noticed that the sun was already considerably lower. Come to think of it, the air also seemed to be much colder. 'At least it helped me pass the time, Sunny thought. The night was approaching

By the time they decided to stop, Sunny was on the verge of fainting. After hours and hours of traversing the rough mountain slope, his body was almost at its limit. However, to everyone's surprise, Shifty seemed to be doing even worse than him. The roguish slave's eyes were muddy and unfocused, aimlessly wandering around. His breath was ragged and shallow, as though something was exerting pressure on his lungs. He looked feverish and unwell. As soon as Hero found a suitable place for a camp, Shifty simply collapsed on the ground. The most unnerving part about all of this was the lack of angry cursing that they had already gotten used to. The slave lay silent and motionless, with only movements of his chest betraying that he was still alive. Several moments later, he uncorked his flagon with a shaky hand and greedily drank a few large gulps. "Conserve your water," Hero said, a hint of concern somehow finding its way into his usually stoic voice. Disregarding these words, Shifty drank more,emptying the flagon completely.

 Scholar didn't look much better than him. The arduous climb took a heavy toll on the older slave. Despite the unbearable cold, he was sweaty, with bloodshot eyes and a grim expression on his face. Being the weakest of the three, Sunny had somehow managed to endure the best. "Can't we just melt the snow once there's no more water?" Hero gave Scholar a complicated look. "There might come a time when we won't be able to make a fire, as to not attract unwanted attention." No one commented, knowing perfectly well whose attention they had to avoid. The memory of Mountain King's horror was still fresh in their minds. Luckily, today Hero had managed to find a natural alcove in the mountain wall, perched precariously behind a narrow ledge. The fire was well hidden by the rocks, allowing them to enjoy its warmth without the fear of being noticed. No one was in the mood to talk, so they just roasted slices of oxen meat above the flames and ate in silence.

By the time the skies had turned completely black, Shifty and Scholar were already asleep, lost in the thrall of their own nightmares. Hero took out his sword and moved to the edge of the rock outcropping. "Try to rest, as well. I'll take the first watch." Sunny gave him a nod and lay down near the fire, dead tired. Falling asleep inside a dream was a new experience for him, but, unexpectedly, it turned out to be quite mundane. As soon as his head touched the ground, his consciousness slipped into darkness. After what felt like only a second, someone had gently shaken him awake. Groggy and disoriented, Sunny blinked a few times, finally noticing Hero hovering above him. "These two didn't look too well, so it's better to give them some time to recover. Don't let the flames go out and wake us up once the sun starts to rise. Or if... if the beast appears." Sunny silently rose and changed places with Hero, who added a couple of logs into the fire and was soon fast asleep.

For a few hours he was on his own

The skies were black, with dim stars and a sharp crescent of the newborn moon. However, its light was not enough to pierce the darkness that enveloped the mountain. Only Sunny's eyes seemed to be able to do SO. He sat quietly, looking down the way they came. Despite the fact that they had managed to climb quite high during the previous day, he could still see the distant ribbon of the road. He could even trace it back to the stone platform where the fight with the tyrant had taken place. The tiny dots littering the stones were the dead bodies of the slaves. As he was watching them, a dark figure slowly crawled on the platform from beneath the cliff. It stayed motionless for a while and then moved forward, scraping its claws against the ground. Every time a claw hit one of the bodies, the tyrant would grab and bring it to its maw. The wind brought the muffled sounds of crunching bones to Sunny's ears. He flinched, accidentally pushing a small rock off the ledge. It fell, hit the slope and then rolled down, causing a few more to follow. The noise of these falling rocks sounded like thunder in the silent night. Far below, the tyrant suddenly turned its head, looking directly at Sunny. Sunny froze, petrified. He was scared to make even the tiniest sound. For a while, he even forgot to breathe. The tyrant was staring directly at him, not doing anything. A few torturous seconds passed, each feeling like an eternity. Then the tyrant calmly turned away and continued to devour dead slaves, as though he had not seen Sunny at all. 'It's blind, Sunny suddenly understood. He inhaled, watching Mountain King with widened eyes. It was true. The creature could not see. Looking back at everything that had happened earlier, he grew more and more certain of his guess. Those milky, expressionless eyes. Come to think of it, he never saw the tyrant moving them at all. And back when Sunny was pushing the wagon off the cliff, the tyrant only reacted after the wagon's had started to fall, scraping loudly against the rocks. Of course! It was all making sense now. *** At the break of dawn, Sunny had woken the others up. Hero had hoped that a full night's rest would do Shifty and Scholar some good, but his hopes were crushed. Somehow, the two slaves looked even worse than before. It was as though yesterday's climb had overstrained Scholar too much. However, Shifty's condition could not be explained by simple overexertion. He was deadly pale and shaky, with half-conscious eyes and a lost look on his face. "What's wrong with him?" Scholar, who himself was not doing very well, helplessly shook his head. "It might be the mountain sickness. It affects different people differently."

Fils voice sounded raspy and weak. "I'm fine, assholes. Get out of my face." Shifty had trouble forming full sentences, but still insisted that he was alright. Hero frowned and then took most of the supplies the defiant slave was supposed to carry before adding them to his own load. After hesitating a little, he gave some to Sunny, too. "Did anything happen while we were asleep?" Sunny stared at him for a few seconds. "The monster ate the dead." The young soldier's frown deepened. "How do you know?" "I heard it." Hero moved to the edge and looked down, trying to make out the distant stone platform. After a minute or so, he clenched his jaw, showing signs of uncertainty for the first time. "Then we'll have to move faster. If the creature is finished with all the bodies, it will come for us next. We need to find that old path before nightfall." Frightened and dejected, they set out again and continued to climb. Sunny was slowly dying under the weight of the added load. Thankfully, Shifty and Scholar had already drunk most of the water, lightening it a little. 'This is hell, he thought. They climbed higher, and higher, and higher. The sun was climbing with them, slowly approaching the zenith. There was no talking, no laughs, only strained breathing. Each of the four survivors was concentrated on his own steps and footing. However, Shifty was falling farther and farther behind. His strength was abandoning him. And then, at some point, Sunny heard a desperate scream. Turning around, he only had time to see a panic-stricken face. Then Shifty fell backward, his foot slipping on an ice-covered rock. He hit the ground hard and rolled down, still trying to grab onto something.

But it was too late.

Frozen in place and powerless, they could only watch as his body tumbled down the slope, leaving bloody marks on the rocks. With each second, Shifty looked less like a man and more like a rag doll. A handful of moments later, he finally came to a halt, hitting the top of a large, protruding stone in a pile of broken flesh. Shifty was dead.

The three of them stood motionless, looking down in uneasy silence. What happened to Shifty didn't come as a shock, but it was still a hard thing to digest. An ominous feeling settled in their hearts seeing the broken body of their companion, it was too easy to imagine one of them sharing the same fate. No one knew what to say. After a minute or so, Scholar finally sighed. "It's a good thing that you took most of the supplies he had been carrying." 'A bit heartless, but not wrong, Sunny thought, giving the older slave a careful look. Scholar frowned, realizing that his mask of a kind-hearted gentleman had slipped for a second, and hurriedly added in a somber tone: "May you rest in peace, my friend." 'Wow. What a performance.' Actually, Sunny had not believed in his benevolent act for a second. Every kid from the outskirts knew that people who acted kind for no reason were the ones to be most wary of. They were either fools or monsters. Scholar didn't seem like a fool, so Sunny became cautious of him from the moment they met. He got this far by being a mistrustful cynic, and there was no reason to change now. "We have to go." Hero said, casting one last look down. His voice was even, but Sunny could feel a well of emotion behind it. He just couldn't tell what that emotion was. Scholar sighed and turned away, too. Sunny stared at the bloodied rocks for a few more seconds. 'Why do I feel so guilty?' he thought, bewildered by this unexpected reaction. 'He got what he deserved.' A little unsettled, Sunny turned around and followed his two remaining companions. Just like that, they left Shifty behind and continued to climb. At this altitude, traversing the mountain was getting harder and harder. The wind was slamming into them with enough force to throw a person off-balance if they were not careful, making every step seem like a gamble. The air was becoming too thin to breathe. Due to the lack of oxygen, Sunny was starting to feel dizzy and nauseated. It was as though they were all slowly suffocating. Altitude sickness was not something one could overcome with effort. It was subtle and overbearing at the same time, affecting the strong and the weak with no regard to their fitness and endurance. If his luck was bad, an elite athlete could succumb to it faster than a random passerby. It was just a question of your body's innate aptitude and adaptability. Lucky ones were able to get over it after experiencing mild symptoms. The others were sometimes crippled for days or weeks, suffering from all kinds of torturous side effects. Some even died. As though all that wasn't bad enough, it was getting colder, too. The warm clothes and fur weren't enough to keep the chill at bay anymore. Sunny felt simultaneously feverish and freezing, cursing every decision he had made in his life to end up here, on the endless icy slope. This mountain was not a place for humans. And yet they had to go on. A few hours passed. Despite everything, the three survivors continued to struggle forward, slowly moving higher and higher. Wherever that old path Scholar had talked about was, by now, it couldn't have been far. At least that's what Sunny was hoping for. But at some point, he started to doubt if the path even existed. Maybe the older slave lied. Maybe the path was long ago destroyed by ravages of time. Maybe they had already missed it without even noticing. Just as he was about to fall into despair, they finally found it. It was weathered and narrow, barely enough for two people to walk side by side. The path wasn't paved, but rather cut from the black rock by some unknown tool or magic, winding its way up the mountain like a tail of a sleeping dragon. Here and there, it was hidden beneath the snow. But most importantly, it was flat. Sunny had never been that happy to see something flat in his life. Without saying a word, Scholar dropped his rucksack and sat down. He was deathly pale, gasping for air like a fish out of water. Despite that, there was a slight grin on his face. "Told you." Hero gave him a nod and looked around. A few seconds later, he turned back to the triumphant slave: "Stand up. It's not time to rest yet." Scholar blinked a few times, then glanced at him with pleading eyes. "Just... just give me a few minutes." The young soldier was going to retort, but Sunny suddenly put a hand on his shoulder. Hero turned to face him. "What is it?"

It's gone."

"What is gone?"

Sunny gestured down, back the way they came. "Shifty's body. It's gone." Hero stared at him for a few moments, clearly failing to understand what Sunny was trying to say. 'Oh, right. They don't know that Shifty's name is Shifty. Ahem. Awkward.' He wanted to explain, but both Scholar and Hero seemed to have grasped his meaning. Simultaneously, they moved to the edge of the stone path and looked down, trying to spot the place where Shifty had met his end. Indeed, the splattering of blood could still be seen on the jagged rocks, but the corpse itself was nowhere to be found. Scholar flinched back and crawled as far away from the edge as he could. The young soldier also backed away, instinctively grabbing the handle of his sword. The three of them exchanged tense looks, clearly understanding the implication of Shifty's disappearance. "It's the monster," Scholar said, even paler than before. "It's following us." Hero gritted his teeth. "You are right. And if it is that close, we will inevitably be forced to fight it soon." The idea of fighting the tyrant was as frightening as it was preposterous. He might as well have said that they will all be dead soon. The truth of it was painfully clear to both Sunny and Scholar. But the older slave, surprisingly, did not look panicked. Instead, he lowered his gaze and quietly said: "Not necessarily." Hero and Sunny turned to him, all ears. The young soldier raised an eyebrow. 

"Explain?"

'Here it comes'

Scholar

  The beast had traced us this far in just a day. That means that there are two most probable possibilities. Either it is smart enough to realize where we are going, or it is following the scent of blood." After a bit of thinking, Hero nodded, agreeing with this logic. The older slave smiled slightly and continued. "Whether it is one or another, we can throw him off our trail and buy some time." "How do we do that?" Despite the urgency in Hero's voice, Scholar hesitated and remained silent. "Why are you not answering? Speak!" The older slave sighed again and slowly, as though against his will, answered. Sunny was waiting for this moment for a while now. "We'll just have to... make the boy bleed. Drag him down the path, then leave him there as bait and go up instead. His sacrifice will save our lives." 'Right on time.'

If Sunny wasn't mad - and scared witless, of course - he would have smiled. His judgment, it seems, was eerily on point. Affirmation was always nice... but not in the situation where being right also meant potentially being used as monster bait. He remembered the words Scholar had spoken back when Shifty was campaigning to have Sunny killed - "Don't be too hasty, my friend. The boy might prove useful later on." These words, which had sounded benevolent then, now turned out to hide a much more sinister meaning. 'What a bastard!' Now it all depended on whether or not Hero would decide to follow through with Scholar's plan. The young soldier blinked, astonished. "What do you mean, make him bleed?" Scholar shook his head. "It's simple, really. If the monster knows where we are going, we have no choice but to abandon our plans to reach the mountain pass and go over the peak of the mountain instead. If the monster is following the scent of blood, we have to use one of us as bait to mislead it." He paused. "Only by leaving a bleeding man further down the path can we reliably avoid the pursuit no matter how it is tracking us." Hero stood motionless, his eyes jumping between Scholar and Sunny. After a few seconds, he asked: "How can you bring yourself to propose something so vile?" The older slave masterfully pretended to look aggrieved and somber. "Of course, it pains me! But if we do nothing, all three of us will die. This way, at least, the boy's death will save two lives. The gods will reward him for his sacrifice!" 'Gee, what a silver tongue. I'm almost convinced myself. The young soldier opened his mouth, then closed it again, hesitating.

Sunny was silently watching the other two survivors, measuring his chances of coming on top in a fight. Scholar was already halfway to being a corpse, so overpowering him would not be a problem. Hero, however... Hero presented an obstacle