Hope in the Abyss, Dreams Shattered

Fumihito was tired.

His body lay against the barren ground and the river only continued to grow against his ears. The sound of crashing waves and roaring tides sounded like they were getting distant and the figure above him only seemed disappointed. His hands were at his side flat against the ground and his face was pressed against the cold rock as a shudder tore through his body.

“What do you… mean?”

The figure simply turned around and began walking away, leaving him there.

“Don’t… Don’t leave without explaining yourself! Who are you? What do you want? Why are you here?”

They finally stopped for a moment, their body just a foot away from the roaring tides that once made up a river and now an ocean. It didn’t even cross his mind that the world around him seemed to grow distant, like everything was moving but him. The mysterious shape turned around just once before a barren skull was revealed, brilliant white spheres of light making up their eyes as they peered at him.

“...The question shouldn’t be why I am here. The question should be why are you here?”

With one single step, their body sunk into the raging waters ahead of them. The world around Fumihito grew dull and his eyes were growing tired as he looked back down to his hands. They were fading, like his existence was becoming nothing, but he still had a question.

Why…

Why did all those spirits look so…

“Oi, Fumihito! You’re not dead, right? I really don’t wanna be hovering over someone’s corpse like this. It’s not very becoming of a former paladin, especially a thief. You awake?”

His eyes snapped awake and his body suddenly sat upright before a sharp sense of pain erupted across his body and arms. It took a pair of hands pressing him back down to the ground to even keep whatever curse of pain shut between his lips. He could see the sun shining above and Scrimgeour’s skull hovering above him with a tilt of his head.

The undead managed to slip a hand beneath his head and gave him a gentle pat on the cheek. It was cold, as usually expected for a skeleton exposed to the elements, but he was curious about why it was day and what happened.

The dream came back to him, the figure in it staring, and the words left behind.

“Good to see you’re okay. I was trying to wake you up for a good hour or so. Hard to tell since I’ve had to keep my eyes peeled in case anybody comes to check the outside, but…,” the undead paused and glanced at him.

“There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

He raised his brows and looked down at his body. There were shallow cuts made across his body, his shirt had been shredded to ribbons, and he could see a few faint markings left against his skin. They all looked similar to imprints of hands pressed against his body or wrapped around his arms and legs.

‘I don’t remember any of these. Was this because of…’

The memories from last night came back to him like a flood. How there were so many spirits dragging him down beneath the depths in an attempt to smother him out. He remembered every single being at the time. How their faces were shrouded beneath the black muck and their limbs wrapped around him, desperate and pleading for salvation.

And he remembered nothing but power swelling within before he pushed it out.

“Last night, the spirits. I remember talking to them or trying to, but things went out of control. I don’t… I don’t remember everything. They just all begged and pleaded. It was too much for me,” he mumbled as Scrimgeour helped him sit upright and leaned up against a slab of stone at his back.

Past the undead’s body, he could see Tartarus. The town looked relatively the same, but he swore he could see chunks of the walls broken down. It looked like something had struck it more than several times. There was even smoke in the distance rising from the center. His eyes narrowed as Scrimgeour spoke yet again.

“Aye, that sounds about right. Things sort of spiraled last night, Fumihito. You made contact, but I don’t think it worked. I think you must have done something, because…”

Now he could see the hesitation of Scrimgeour’s delicate limbs. Even if he was just all bone and expressions weren’t very common, he could still make out the nervousness of the undead. He looked up at Scrimgeour’s body and took a deep breath at the possibility of what could have happened last night.

“What happened last night, Scrimgeour?”

The undead paused as soon as he asked before they looked down at their feet.

“...They’re corrupted now, the spirits. I don’t know what it was, but you must have done something to push them over the edge. A lingering spirit is never inherently evil, but they’re still extremely sensitive. I think you must have pushed them over the edge, right past the boundary of lingering, right down to corrupted,” the undead pointed back to the town and shook his head.

“They came down upon the town last night and broke through the barrier. I checked on it myself. It’s not working anymore, not like it used to do. It was made to protect the town against the lingering, but the corrupted are a step above it.”

The dead came through?

Tartarus was besieged by God knows how many spirits and all he could think about was how it might have been his fault, but that wasn’t the only thought that rose to his head. His eyes widened briefly at the thought of Erlana’s body lying amongst the ruins of a town before he shot to his feet. His body creaked and his limbs practically begged him to stay down, but he managed regardless even as Scrimgeour stepped in to try and stop him.

“Fumihito, slow down! You’re in no condition to…”

That didn’t matter.

“I can’t. Erlana… She’s… I need to go check on her.”

It hurt to walk even now, but he managed to his legs and pushed himself away from the slab of stone. The town was at least a bit of a walk away, but he could manage it. Scrimgeour was practically on his tail, their hood plucked over their head in an attempt to hide their identity.

“Look, I haven’t been able to go inside myself and see things, but you need to take this slow. I don’t know what happened, but the backlash from your magic must have hit. You’re physically fine, but your magic might have rebounded back against your soul,” and the undead was certainly trying to stop him by walking right beside him and trying to grab his worn limbs.

He just kept moving forward.

“I need to see if she’s alright. I have to know she’s okay.”

The spirits warned him exactly what would happen with his failure. He still remembered what they said. The spirits from the morning before had told him exactly what would happen if he were to fail and what would come of it. The town would be lost and the spirits would no longer be appeased, but Erlana?

She would die.

He couldn’t let that happen.

It wasn’t long before he found himself at the entrance of the town yet again. His eyes darted to the dead soil that spread across the ground. The grass had wilted and it looked like the markings etched into the earth were starting to fade. Scrimgeour grimaced before he looked around and planted his palms into the pockets of his robes, keeping his frame as subtle as possible.

Fumihito stepped through and what he saw horrified him to his core.

The town might have looked like a mess before, but it had never looked like it had been raided. He could see the boards that covered up the windows of every building were peeled right off and scattered across the roads, how the buildings looked like they had been ripped apart and clawed by wild animals, and the people…

There were people nursing injuries.

Some of them were being treated outside while a few others looked like they had been attacked by wolves. This entire town was a remnant of what it was before. It might have been in poor condition, but at least the people were alive. Now? Now all he could see was the damage that had been done.

But worst of all, this was all his fault.

‘I ran away. I told myself I’d save this town, I’d stop death, and look at what I did…’

How much of an idiot was he? To think that he could be so stupidly arrogant that he thought for even a moment a novice like him could stop the restless nights of an entire town. He didn’t save anybody. What he did was make it worse. Spirits lingering around and crying for help were pushed to the edge of corruption because of his failure as a necromancer.

Because of his failure as a damn savior.

“I… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I was just trying to help…”

Scrimgeour’s hand was on his shoulder as the undead surveyed the damage at last. He wasn’t sure what it was that Scrimgeour wanted to convey, but he knew enough to say that comfort wasn’t going to work here. Not when the level of harm done was on this scale.

“Fumihito, ignore it. Focus on Erlana first, alright? We can talk about this later.”

It surprised him how callous the undead had sounded bringing this up as if it were something that could be ignored. The realization that this was a man who had lived through a war only dawned on him once more when he looked past the undead’s stupid antics. He took a deep breath and gave a shaky nod, pushing forward and making his way right back to the inn that Erlana had booked for the two of them. She had to be there, right? She just had to be.

When Scrimgeour and he arrived, he saw nothing but the same disaster that had struck before. It looked like those who were visiting from outside the town were tending to the residents by handling their wounds. It wasn’t much, but it was more than enough to give some of them some measure of hope.

He approached the innkeeper who was nursing their arm near the counter and shakily bumped into the wooden slab with a cough.

“Purple hair… Have you seen anybody with purple hair and vermillion eyes? W-Where is she?”

The man’s eyes hardened for a moment before they shook their head.

“The Dagny lass? She went out last night, but that’s all I know. We got swept up by the spirits like everybody else. I couldn’t tell ya where she was at all.”

Why did she go out last night?

His eyes widened at the thought of her being there at ground zero before he stepped outside yet again and looked around the barren roads. The people of the town were already focused more on themselves than they were on Scrimgeour and him. It wasn’t like they had much of a choice after what he had unleashed last night.

“Scrimgeour, we need to find her. She has to be here, right? Somewhere? She’s a mage, so that means she has to be able to protect herself.”

He whipped right back around to look at the undead who seemed more concerned with the state of things than his inquiry. However, he was given an answer when the undead shook his head from side to side and reached over once again. Another firm grasp of his shoulder and he could feel that same sense of pain erupting across his body. The urge to keel over and hit the ground was heavy.

“Calm down, Fumihito. You panicking won’t solve anything if you’re rushing into things without thinking. We’ll just need to look around for a bit more. Maybe if we’re lucky we’ll be able to stumble upon her some…”

A rather violent response was about halfway through his lips before he saw a bundle of purple hair walking through the streets. To be more exact, he could see Erlana off there in the distance with Viggo lobbed over her shoulders. The large man was using Erlana for support from what he could see and if he didn’t know any better, he was sure the baker would have collapsed to his knees.

His injuries were horrid.

Viggo’s arm was practically wrapped in thick bloody bandages dripping with crimson, his face marred by a single cut running across his brow. He could already see Erlana struggling to carry the man before he was rushing out with his arm being waved around in the air.

“Erlana! Erlana, are you okay?”

She looked up in surprise before the worry in her eyes grew at the sight of him bounding toward her with Scrimgeour hot on his tail. If there was ever a time she would have thought Scrimgeour would

“F-Fumihito? Scrimgeour!? You’re okay! I’m…”

She was cut off by Viggo groaning loudly, blood dripping down his lips. He was already rushing over to sling an arm underneath the large man’s body and keep his bloody arm from staying low.

“We can talk more when we get him a doctor! What happened to him, Erlana?”

The woman paused for a moment as they helped Viggo off toward the inn where most of the townfolk were being treated. Scrimgeour kept his distance behind them, most likely so he could avoid revealing what he was and causing more panic for no reason. The two of them managed to carry him off to a stray chair laid out at the front of the inn before plopping the large man down onto the seat.

“I was there at the center of town. I was going to go find you, but the spirits broke in. At that point, I was pretty much defenseless. They would have probably killed me if it weren’t for Viggo stepping in, but…”

She looked down at the ground and shook her head. Last night was a close call with death and if she didn’t have Viggo there to fight them off with his bare hands, she might have been injured. It was a horrifying experience, but what made it worse was the constant screaming everybody had undergone.

And for once, it wasn't the spirits screaming. 

“He fought as hard as he could, but they overwhelmed him.”

Viggo coughed once more and grinned at the two of them. Fumihito couldn’t even believe the man was fine after fighting spirits with his hands alone. From what he could tell about Viggo’s state though, it was probably a one-sided fight.

“Ah, don’t you two worry. This? It’s nothing,” the man smiled through the blood that stained his teeth before another haggard cough escaped his lips. He rested a fist against his lips as Fumihito stared at him.

At the sight of him.

“I did what any other person would do. I helped, simple as that… I don’t know what we’ll do now though. The barrier was all we had to keep the spirits out, but if they’re corrupted? None of the mages here can purify that many spirits. We’ll have to leave and hope for the best, but I’m not sure if any of us can make it out.”

And he was right.

He saw the state of this town and even ignoring that, it came back down to the people. There were possibly more than half of them laid out with injuries and most of them were already sleep-deprived. There was no chance they’d be able to make a trip without having to leave so many behind. The barrier repelled the spirits from wailing and torturing them, but now?

Now they could break through and they wouldn’t just wail at people. The only way any of them would stop was if everybody died. He couldn’t see any other way past that eventuality and that’s exactly what it was now. An eventuality.

“You should stop talking, Viggo. Rest for now, alright? You can settle these things later…,” he mumbled and pressed a hand against the baker’s to lower it. The man shouldn’t have been moving so much after last night. That much damage against the human body should have been anybody down.

It was a miracle that Viggo had managed to his feet through the entire night. Looking at the state of the people from outside the inn and to the streets full of injured, the entire town is a mess of crumbling ruins threatening to collapse. It was enough to tell him that he had done more than just failed.

He had doomed an entire town.

A warm sensation crept across his now bloodied hand after touching Viggo’s. His eyes rolled over to Erlana who offered him a small smile and squeezed his palm. Normally, a comforting gesture, but now? It felt like a shallow reminder of how close he had come to losing that touch. How close he had come to losing Erlana.

“...Viggo, I’m sorry, but I think it’s time we leave now.”

The older man didn’t seem to judge him for the choice. If anything, it looked like he was satisfied that he’d be leaving. Erlana didn’t agree judging by the way she wrenched her hand back and looked at him in shock.

“...It’s alright, boy. You two should leave while you can while we try and handle things from here. I wish you nothing but the best in your journey.”

He bowed his head once and steeled his expression before turning around and walking back into the inn to help Erlana pack her things and leave. Scrimgeour looked at him with his hood still draped over his head, but the undead didn’t say a word. All he did was cross his arms and walk back further down the road.

When Erlana caught up to him, the two were in her room with the door shut behind them.

“Fumihito, what are you talking about? You said you’d help save the village yesterday and now you’re giving up?”

The young man did his best to keep his expression calm and focus on rummaging through the room. Books and flasks were carelessly flung into Erlana’s bag as he narrowed his eyes and drowned out the sound outside. A vague image of a faceless woman and a small child came to mind once again and he pushed it away to the furthest traces of his mind.

Erlana, however, would not give him that peace.

“Fumihito, talk to me! You can’t just shut yourself out. Listen, if this is about last night, then we can try fixing it…”

He dropped Erlana’s bag back onto the floor and whipped right around to look at Erlana with a gobsmacked expression across his face. The one thing that he wouldn’t have expected her to even suggest was the idea of fixing this town after what happened last night.

“Do you even know what you’re asking? Erlana, this town was surviving before we came here and I messed things up. Now? Now they’re all going to die because of MY failure.”

She was quick to snap back at him, much to his surprise.

“But they weren’t LIVING! Fumihito, all of Tartarus had to deal with nothing but mental torment night after night. Do you think they had a better life? Because they didn’t and you can’t just give up,” her eyes were firm and she stood her ground. How could she even say that?

Living didn’t matter as long as you were alive. It was that simple and yet she didn't seem to grasp the concept. A dry chuckle flew past his lips before he knew it as he mashed his hand against his temple.

“Do you even hear yourself now? How insane that sounds? Because Newsflash, Erlana, they HAD a far better life before either you or I showed up here. People weren’t nearly dying, their homes weren’t torn apart, and you nearly got yourself killed because of me! Viggo nearly died saving you!”

It was a low blow and the effect was clear with how Erlana recoiled like he had struck her. He didn’t mean to hurt her like that, but it was like she was seeing things from that optimistic side of hers without thought. She was trying to tackle this without even giving him a reason for how they were helping when they quite literally sent this town to the beginning of a collapse.

“...T-That’s not… I didn’t mean to… I wanted to help you.”

Her tone had grown softer and he struggled to even look her in the eyes at all now. It felt like she’d melt right through the anger and he didn’t want to revisit the pain of everybody in this town being doomed because of his failure.

“Erlana, I failed last night. I didn’t make things better, I made them worse. I thought for a moment I could save them and look what happened,” he flung a hand toward the side and stared at her.

“Everybody is going to either die or abandon this place because of me. Because I was scared and I pushed the spirits back. What more could we do, Erlana? You’re a mage and yet you’ve let me do most of the work! You should be finding ways to settle this problem instead of tinkering around with potions and hoping I can solve this all.”

She clenched her fists and looked at the ground, shuddering. It took everything she had not to break down, but she wouldn’t do that. She had grown beyond that and she wasn’t going to let those words stir her emotions, but…

“Did you just lie to me about going to an academy at all? You haven’t once used your magic to help me or even the town! Is this because of some crazy pride or some stupid mage thing I don’t know about or…”

But her eyes finally met his and the words died on his lips.

“I was born as a non-mage, Fumihito.”

She clenched her fists tightly and struggled to even form the words as she glared at him. It wasn’t full of spite or even hatred, but acceptance. A sad acceptance of what she had heard time and time again since the day she had been born.

“I never lied about my origins, but I wasn’t talented. I didn’t have the quality to become a true mage like the rest of my classmates. I was the one noble girl from birth told I could be anybody I wanted to be when I grew up,” she paused for a single moment before taking a deep breath, her voice growing hoarse.

“My parents told me that, but they never once showed me that they believed in me. I went out of my way to prove them all wrong, that someone like me can become a mage. I studied, I practiced, and I worked twice as hard compared to about half of my classmates who were nothing more than lazy rats!"

She could remember each grueling day of her youth spent trying to practice spells that ultimately never worked. How her fingers cramped flipping through books for hours on end, how she rarely got any sleep in the school library, and how her body always seemed to collapse the moment her back touched a bed once. It was torture and yet she had done it all in the hopes of changing something.

Anything!

Erlana clenched her fists and felt tears brimming around her eyes at the memories. How every bit of hope that swelled within her chest was crushed beneath the boots and words of every instructor she met.

“No matter what though, I couldn’t compete with others. I can’t learn magic like everybody else. I graduated and thought things would change, but they didn’t. Any colleagues I had scoffed at me being a researcher and my parents? It didn’t matter that I had passed, I'm sure of it. The only thing they probably cared about was my future and how a ‘noble girl’ shouldn’t spend her days toiling around with a useless job.”

Her face scrunched up in pain and Fumihito’s eyes softened at long last as she closed the gap between them and promptly mashed her hands against his chest. If she had put any real strength behind it, he was he'd have hit the floor The only thing that prevented it was the tearful woman’s face and her waning strength as grief took her.

“I thought, I really thought, that contracting a familiar like the Shepherd of Souls would change things. How I, someone born with the lowest chances at becoming a mage, contracted a god. Instead, I got you… And I was so disappointed when I found out. I honestly wanted to die knowing that you came up,” she brushed aside the tears from her eyes and felt a small smile creep across her face.

Maybe it was insanity, but…

“But you made me feel normal. You were the first person I met in years who didn’t treat me like a noble’s daughter or even go out of their way to belittle me for my craft. It felt nice being around someone like that, but I was jealous. Jealous of the fact that I spent my entire life trying to learn magic and you get it like it's nothing. Despite all of that, you do NOTHING with it!"

She pulled away and closed her eyes before reaching down and grabbing her bag. Meeting his eyes was a struggle and she couldn’t bother anymore. This was too much for her. He was too much for her. It served her right to think she could trust someone.

“...Erlana, I…”

The vermillion-eyed woman turned around and marched to the door with a frown on her face.

“That feeling like you can take on the whole world? It’s a lie people tell you. You can’t no matter how hard you work and I know that better than anybody else. Maybe everything I've done and studied is worthless, but I’m not going to stand by either and watch a town suffer for my mistakes. I… I’ll handle this on my own and prove them wrong.”

He should have stopped her.

But all he did was stand by and watch as Erlana stepped out and shut the door behind her. Fear controlled him and it was his choice to stand by and do nothing. That cold and horrid feeling he had when he remembered his faceless mother surfaced once again. Everything was his fault and nothing about that seemed to change.

His eyes narrowed and he collapsed onto the nearest bed with a shudder tearing itself across his body.

‘...My dream… I really am a hopeless idiot...’