Shattered Illusions

The sharp ring of clashing steel reverberated through the cavern. "Stay back!" Nabilah yelled, her blade dancing in an arc, knocking away a sword aimed at her.

"Shield!" Putri shouted, her glowing staff creating a shield that fended off several approaching guards with a low hum.

Pyu, agile as ever, let out a quick "Watch it~pyu!" She dodged and weaved between her attackers, her claws leaving scratches on their armor with a satisfying sound of metal against metal.

For a moment, it seemed as if they might hold their ground. But then, the guards redoubled their efforts, closing in like a noose. A swift kick disarmed Nabilah, sending her sword skittering across the floor with a clatter.

All the while, I stood there, my heart pounding like a drum in overdrive. The weight of the parchment and charcoal in my hands felt absurdly out of place in this life-and-death showdown. As Nabilah, Putri, and Pyu struggled against overwhelming odds, a knot of dread tightened within me.

I unfurled a sheet of parchment, desperate to sketch something—anything—that could tip the scales. My charcoal hovered over the parchment, but it was as if my imagination had run dry. Art block. Right here, right now, when our lives were on the line.

"Gotcha!" A guard smirked as Pyu leapt to avoid a blade but found herself caught in a magic net that hummed with energy.

"Let me go~pyu!"

Putri's staff was knocked from her grasp by a guard with a magical blade, the wood clattering uselessly to the ground. "No!"

Cornered and disarmed, they had no choice but to give in. The Queen's guards moved in, pressing their swords against their necks. My stomach dropped; this was all kinds of bad.

The empty parchment stared back at me like an accusing eye. My hands trembled, not from fear, but from the crippling weight of my own creative impotence.

"Why the hell is this happening?" My words echoed back at me, as empty and hollow as the chamber we stood in.

The Queen locked eyes with me, and it felt like I was staring into an unending void. "Still consider yourself the hero in all of this?"

I forced a shaky smile, even as I felt the oppressive weight of her gaze. "Well, aren't we all the heroes of our own stories?" My voice wavered, barely masking my doubt. "Your Majesty, if there's a role for villains, it seems you've auditioned quite well."

The Queen's eyes burrowed. "You still don't take this seriously, do you?"

She waved her hand, and my world transformed...

The throne room doors burst open, and a messenger—exhausted and anxious—hurried inside. He kneeled before the Queen, visibly perspiring as if carrying the weight of a dreadful secret. I watched intently, a knot of foreboding tightening in my stomach.

"Your Majesty, I come bearing troubling news from Eldenridge," he said, urgency quaking in his voice.

The Queen leaned forward, her expression one of genuine concern. "Speak."

I listened as the messenger began to unspool his grim tale. A lone survivor from an expedition in the Misty Peaks had returned with stories of grotesque creatures emerging from darkness itself. Each word he spoke felt like a blade twisting in my gut.

"And the Heartstone, Your Majesty," the messenger continued, each syllable heavy with desperation.

The Queen pressed him, "Yes? Out with it."

"Its light is fading, Your Majesty. We must discover why it dims and restore its magic before utter darkness descends."

As if animated by an unseen force, the Queen swiftly rose from her throne and issued commands. "Ready my viewing basin at once. I must observe this darkness myself."

Her guards scrambled to follow her orders, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was about to be confronted by my past. The Queen moved to another room containing a silver basin of enchanted water. She peered into it, her eyes narrowing as if discerning uncomfortable truths.

I saw her gaze intensify when the image in the basin shifted to an expedition making its way towards the Mystic Peaks. It was the expedition I had been part of. I observed her eyes narrowing further when I, the odd traveler, used my reality-bending magic. Each incantation seemed to send out a pulse of dark power, tainting the environment.

The basin then displayed my emotions as palpable shadows, dark tendrils that clawed at the world around me. Even the Heartstone's protective radiance seemed to wane under this influence. Dread filled me, as I realized I was the source of the spreading malevolence.

The Queen’s expression hardened as she saw shadows devour my comrades, pulling them into an abyss. She had seen enough. "Make haste to the Mystic Peaks and contain this scourge before it spreads further," she commanded her guards.

As they dispersed to carry out her orders, I felt the full weight of her gaze, now turned back towards me. My past had caught up with me, and I was tangled in a web of consequences far beyond my worst imaginings. 

Just as abruptly as they had appeared, the visions ceased, leaving an echoing void in their wake. I was back in the cavern, the chill of the stone floor beneath me and the weight of the Queen's stare pressing down like an anvil. But her eyes, filled with a mix of condemnation and sorrow, said everything that needed to be said. No words were required; the truth was laid bare before both of us.

My stomach churned in a turmoil of regret and self-reproach. I had thought myself an artist, sketching the outlines of my dreams and ambitions in a foreign world. But I was blind to the fact that my brush was tainted, each stroke imbued with a darkness that bled into the canvas of this reality. I had been drawing nightmares, not realizing that I was the monster lurking in their depths.

The weight of my actions settled in, heavier than any ink or pencil I had ever lifted. I had wielded unimaginable power, only to paint a world darker and more terrifying, filling it with shadows born from my own turmoil. It was a revelation that cut deeper than any blade, the ink of my past indelibly staining the pages of this kingdom's future.

And there I stood, locked in the Queen's gaze, knowing full well that I had so much to answer for.

"I... didn’t mean for any of this."

"The Fated Fabricator can be a force of creation or destruction," she said, her voice tinged with icy scorn. "Your emotional instability made that choice for you."

Putri's eyes widened, her voice shaky. "Nanang, what’s happening?"

A heavy shame pressed down on me as I looked away. "I'm the cause of all this. Everything that's happened to your father, to the villagers—it's... because of me."

"W-what are you saying? That can't be true!" Putri stammered, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"The shadows... the ones who took your father and the villagers... it was... me!" 

Putri struggled against the guard holding her, her eyes pleading. "We can still undo this! There has to be a way to pull them out of that pocket dimension!"

"Pocket dimension?" The Queen chuckled, the sound chilling to the bone. "Nobody has ever returned from there. Alive, that is."

My knees were weak, almost giving way beneath me. The weight of the Queen's words seemed too much to bear. I'd fancied myself a hero in this strange world, but what good is a hero who brings ruin in his wake?

The Queen's icy chuckle resonated like a dirge in my ears. All this time, I was just trying to make sense of a world I never asked to be part of, using the only skill I knew: drawing. Instead, I'd sketched a tragedy for these people. No comic relief, no happy ending—just raw, unfiltered chaos.

"Pocket dimension?" The Queen sneered, the sound chilling to the bone. "Nobody has ever returned from there. Alive, that is."

My legs felt like they might buckle at any moment, not from the physical strain but from the unbearable weight of guilt and shame. Each word from the Queen was like another brushstroke on a canvas I wished I could tear apart and start anew.

The Queen raised her staff, its end glowing with a foreboding light. "For the balance of the universe, your existence can no longer be tolerated. Goodbye, Nanang."

A quiet resignation washed over me. I was ready to accept whatever came next, ready to atone for the unintended disaster my drawings had wrought. My eyes met Putri's, and for a brief second, our gazes were a complex tangle of emotions neither of us could untangle.

Regret? Pity? Love?

Just as the Queen's staff began to unleash its arcane energy, Putri shouted, "No! There has to be another way!"

Ignoring her captor's grip, Putri lunged toward me, a look of desperate resolve in her eyes. But the Queen's magic was faster—a bolt of arcane energy shot forth, striking Putri through the chest instead.

Time froze. Or maybe that was just me, as I couldn't process what had just happened.

The gasps and shouts that filled the room felt like distant echoes, secondary to the stunned look on Putri's face, her eyes meeting mine one final, heart-wrenching time before she collapsed.

"Putri? Nooooooo!"

My scream reverberated through the cavern, each echo a stab of anguish that multiplied my torment. Pain lanced through me, a tsunami of sorrow crashing down. I caught Putri's limp body as she fell, cradling her close. The spark that once animated her eyes was gone, replaced by a haunting emptiness.

As if summoned by my despair, the creeping shadows swelled into existence at the periphery of the cavern. They weren't mere figments this time but tangible darkness, inky tendrils spreading like a virulent plague across the floor, walls, and ceiling.

Pyuan and Nabilah, restrained on the other side of the chamber, shouted in terror, but their voices barely registered. I was emotionally numb, insulated by the grief that hollowed me out.

I saw the Queen's eyes widen in alarm. Her guards recoiled, their bravado replaced by palpable dread. The shadows spiraled inward, swallowing everything they touched—stone, metal, flesh. The Queen's scream was muffled, her body and staff vanishing into the void. Her guards followed suit, their horrified shouts dissipating into nothingness.

The shadows reached me last, their cold tendrils wrapping around Putri's lifeless form before latching onto me, as if yearning to consume the source of their summoning. Her vacant eyes were the last thing I saw before an all-encompassing darkness swallowed me.

A choked whisper escaped my lips, barely audible against the encroaching silence, "I'm sorry, Putri..."

And then everything went dark.