“ELDER!” Cassia scread as she reached her hand toward the horrifying scene. Soren held her back as he gripped his wand tightly with his other hand. Neither him nor Myrin waited another second to expand their Soul Realms.
The chaos spread amongst the crowd. Uruk and Isha who were just about to congratulate their guests on their victory remained frozen in place, unable to grasp what was happening.
[Mortal. Do you truly believe an attack like that will harm ?] The anima in the air turned sharper than any blade. An aurora borealis of colors manifested around Her ethereal form—spreading across the old village.
But just as quickly as it manifested, the anima quickly grew silent.
[This… My anima’s representation?..]
It was as if the very truth of her anima’s existence was twisted.
Soren’s eyes widened. Is it the village’s barrier?! He glanced back at the Serpent Statue—its eyes glistening, as if gazing upon a long desired prey.
“Impossible!” Cassia panicked. “The barrier was never that powerful before!”
“But it is.” Elder Kaalan said as he twisted the scepter even further into Her chest. A strangely flowing color spread from the wound—one that Soren couldn’t help but look away from. His instincts were telling him not to even dare look at it.
“It has always been this powerful,” the Elder reaffird. “You were just unaware of its true potential.”
Soren glanced around for other enemies, but all he found was confused looks. It was as if the Elder was acting alone.
No wait! The barrier is maintained by the other elders!
None of which were in the plaza. They were likely maintaining the magecraft formation sowhere else in the village!
An erratic plan slowly ford in his mind, but his thoughts were interrupted by the other voices in the crowd.
“Elder, what are you doing!” Uruk finally awoke from his shock, “Why are you attacking Her?!”
“Elder Kaalan, what are you planning!” The other villagers one by one joined the chorus of protests:
“How can this be! Are the other elders aware?!”
“Are we waging war against the elves?!”
“Should we fight too?!” The guards all held tightly to their weapons, unsure of how to proceed.
Eventually, the Elder’s voice resounded in all their ears in a language Soren was only able to understand through [Eyes of the Fairy]:
“The ti has co. Rember thy selves.”
The villagers all looked at each other in confusion. But then, a sudden change occurred. One by one, their faces turned hollow, as if their souls had been dragged into a bottomless pit.
Soren and Myrin glanced at those around them nervously, only to realize the horrifying reality. A reality that the Blossom Sword Flower mirrored with Her next set of words:
[You… You’re a Fallen…]
Elder Kaalan didn’t smile. His old eyes simply stared at Her ethereal form, answering back with callous resolve:
“Indeed. And so are they.”
One by one, Soren watched in horror as those around him slowly transford. The flesh underneath their skin squird, as if maggots had burrowed inside. Then, their necks twisted unnaturally as they eyed the people they had just before called their guests. The sound of their bones breaking from such perverse motions didn’t even register, as if they were no longer even conscious enough to process such emotions.
Soren’s heart dropped.
Without hesitating for another mont, Soren grabbed Myrin and Cassia and activated Violet Mirage, turning them all invisible. He pulled the three away from the plaza where the remaining villagers began to fight against their own neighbors.
“Vynasians…” He mumbled, “They were all fallen Vynasians this entire ti?! How is this even possible…”
Pulling his companions behind an empty stone building, Soren finally caught his breath. He could hear the sound of battle raging behind him as the chaos spread out from the plaza. Strangely, he did notice a pattern—the Fallen villagers were all older mbers of the village.
The younger warriors like Uruk and Isha were not affected. They were even battling against their forr friends and family, trying to understand what was going on.
How did this happen? Just monts prior, they were all about to end things with the Blossom Sword Flower—celebrating their victory and resting in the village until their preparations for Mount Tolarion were completed…
How did it all descend into madness so quickly?
How did the Vynasians remain hidden inside the village without anyone noticing? Were the Elders planning this from the start?
As his thoughts raged like a typhoon, he glanced at his two companions. Strangely, they too were acting differently. Myrin was trying to soothe and care for Cassia, who seed to still be in shock.
“Cassia, are you okay?” Myrin asked, not even trying to mask the worry on his face.
However, she never responded. It was as if her mind was stuck in its own world, unable to hear anything from anyone else. Sothing felt off about her…
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It didn’t take long for her strange behavior to beco obvious.
“Its all my fault,” Cassia murmured like a prayer, swaying back and forth like a maddened monk.
“It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault.”
He tried to reach her, “Cass—”
“IT’S ALL MY FAULT!
“IT’S ALL MY FAULT!
“IT’S ALL MY FAULT!”
Cassia began to scratch her own face as her injuries healed due to her Soul Weapon’s ability.
Over and over again. Scratch after scratch. Her eyes, full of misery and despair.
Horrified, Myrin tried to stop her, but nothing was working. The strength of an Augnt Class Soul Weapon was no joke—she continued to use her own dragon clawed hands to hurt herself.
Eventually, Soren began to notice her anima being stirred. A chill ran down his spine:
Fuck! Is she planning to burn herself with her own magecraft too?!
In the end, Soren decided to take more forceful asures—he began casting one of his magecraft spells quickly:
“srize.”
In an instant, the little girl fell asleep—bloodied tears rolling down her wounded cheeks. Even in her dreams, it seems that Cassia was still murmuring the sa things to herself…
“What in the Six Divines is happening?!” The Soothing Bard was beginning to panic. He looked to Soren for answers, but what reflected in his eyes was a face equally as confused.
“I… I have no idea. Everyone started acting strange after Kaalan said sothing in that weird language...”
It felt as if the Beyond was rejecting every syllable. Even understanding them using [Eyes of the Fairy] brought him imnse pain. Not to ntion the nausea of actually looking at their strange forms…
The Fallen were still human—at least on the outside. But it was as if their very existence was being shunned.
“I wonder how Uruk and Isha are doing…”
As he said this, Soren heard another explosion coming from the plaza. With Violet Mirage still active, he peered behind the wall to see the commotion. Glowing ethereally in the midst of the blizzard, the Blossom Sword Flower was seen alone. She had escaped from Elder Kaalan’s attack, but the strange color growing from Her wound had spread to most of Her flower dress.
Floating freely around her were strange glowing swords with blossoming hilts made of twisted tree roots. They continued to multiply on their own as they launched themselves at the countless enemies.
In the midst of the chaos, Soren spotted Isha riding a Snow Wyvern, trying to carry off a few of the people who hadn’t transford into the Fallen. Just as he had guessed, the strange transformation he witnessed in the plaza only affected the older mbers of the village.
Could the words Kaalan spoke be so kind of magecraft? He wondered, but Soren had never heard of anything even remotely similar to it. The Vynasian material runes he had observed and studied before were far more similar to the Scripted Runic he was familiar with compared to this.
Ti slowed to a crawl as he continued to ponder over his next decision.
“Should we try to help the remaining villagers?” Myrin asked.
Soren shook his head. “We need more information first—the Blossom Sword Flower might have been taken by surprise, but She is still a Mythral level spirit.”
“Information? How?”
Hearing the question, Soren simply glanced at his now sleeping companion and smiled nervously. “I hope she doesn’t hate for this…”
Before Myrin could ask again, Soren gave the ntal command to his Soul Weapon to see the unseen. A swarm of golden butterflies rushed from the book’s pages into his eyes, transforming his vision radically.
There was only one thing he wanted to see: Cassia’s mories.
He honed in on the Beyond’s representation of her Three Layers, focusing on the most sensitive section—the Heart’s Shroud. This was an area he had never explored before with his abilities. The most he had taken this kind of prying was up to the Echo of Mind, which allowed him to sowhat read the minds of others to a very limited degree.
To peer into the mories of others and their representation, he would have to go deeper than ever before. Almost imdiately, the side effects beca apparent. His eyes started to bleed and his mind began to burn as if it were exposed to an open fla. However, Soren persisted. He needed to see what his companion had seen—sothing had clearly changed, causing her sudden grief and anguish.
In the end, his wish beca a reality. He had taken [Eyes of the Fairy] to heights he hadn’t taken it to before. The information instantly transferred to his mind, allowing for countless patchy visions to play simultaneously.
And the mont they did, he instantly regretted his decision.
Flas rose, buildings fell, blood spilled. The howling winds drowned out the screams of dying children. n ran to defend what was left of their hos, only to be slaughtered like insects. At the center of it all—a little girl groveling in the bloodied snow, watching what’s left of her family slowly turning into forgotten corpses.
These were the events of 50 years ago. The massacre of the Nagashi tribe.
A haunting mory that the little girl could never forget.
But oddly, the story didn’t end there.
The movie tape continued to roll, showing him more and more of the visceral slaughter… The enemies took joy in their bloody carnage, as if it were a long desired prize—a fulfilling al they were yearning for all along.
Their clothes were woven in fur and covered in blood. Their weapons looked more like hunting tools than arms of war. Their faces… human—and yet different. As if the outer skin was nothing more than a mask.
Vynasians? Soren thought in pain as his Soul Weapon continued to [Record] the scene. His vision was now becoming slightly blurred—he was sure that [Eyes of the Fairy] would soon deactivate on its own.
However, he persisted. He needed to see the conclusion—the story had already changed from what Cassia had initially told him.
However, the details she spoke of to him before were not exactly wrong.
Silver armor, glowing white spears, and radiant banners of the moon.
Fighting in the midst of the chaos were the SIlver Wing Valkyrie Battalion—a powerful force of Holy Phantasms belonging to the Silver Moon Church…
At first, he assud they were trying to slaughter the villagers too, but that turned out to be wrong.
The Silver Valkyrie and her companions were trying to kill the human-wearing Vynasians!
What is this… Why would Cassia lie to …
The people she had accused of being the murderers turned out to be saviors all along…
He didn’t know whether to feel indignation or confusion. Perhaps both. However, the story was clearly only beginning… He prid his focus to witness more of the horror before his abilities would deactivate.
Just as he had assud, another strange change occurred. A vibrant beam of light shot up from Cassia’s body, as if she had beco a radiant fla engulfed in the surrounding madness.
Her skin was slowly morphed as more and more scales grew in patterns. Radiant strings of light covered her tiny wings that she was still unable to use, and her irises slowly stretched into vertical slits like that of an ominous predator.
As she laid there in the bloodied snow, her fatal wounds slowly began to heal.
Death had been avoided. A miracle from the heavens. A final boon from a slowly forgotten God…
But just when Soren thought the vision would end, the horror only amplified even more.
For the miracle herself was unaware of what she had been gifted.
Her thoughts of despair… Her feelings of anguish… Her anger at her own helplessness.
All of it rged into delusion.
And from that delusion, a lie was born:
“All of this isn’t real,” she repeated to herself. “None of this happened.”
A lie that was twisted into truth…
An Untruth.
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