The cabin

The cabin was swallowed in a thick, heavy gloom, broken only by the wind whispering against the windows.

The fire in the hearth had long gone out, and the darkness settled like a living presence — dense, suffocating.

Elias slept poorly — eyes half-shut, body curled in a corner of the cabin, one arm wrapped tightly around his trusted spear.

Every sound was filtered through his heightened instincts, his trained ears poised for the slightest hint of danger.

Even in sleep, his body remained ready to act.

Art, on the other hand, had succumbed to sheer exhaustion. His breathing was deep and uneven, hair tousled and damp, plastered to his sweat-slicked face.

He slept as though the world weren't on the brink of collapse — but that rest was about to end.

CREAK.

The floorboards groaned.

Elias's eyes snapped open. He didn't move right away. His body stayed motionless, but every sense was trained on the sound. There was weight in the air — a presence.

Another step. Closer. The wood creaked again, this time accompanied by a faint dragging noise.

With a silent snap of movement, Elias turned his head. Art was still fast asleep. He crawled over, clamped a hand firmly over Art's mouth, and gave him a sharp slap on the cheek.

Art woke with a muffled grunt of pain and confusion, eyes flying open.

"Stay quiet," Elias whispered. "Someone's outside."

Art stifled his alarm and nodded, instantly alert. The footsteps stopped.

KNOCK... KNOCK...

The door's wood groaned under a slow, almost gentle knock.

They both held their breath.

Then, a voice echoed from beyond. Deep. Drawn-out. Laced with mockery and a cruel, theatrical delight:

"Little pigs... little pigs…"

Elias's blood ran cold. The voice was toying with them, savoring their fear.

"Let me come in…"

BAM! — the door shuddered under a brutal blow.

"Locking the door? That's not very polite…"

Another hit. The wood splintered with a sinister crack.

CRAACK!

A fissure split down the middle of the door. The dark edge of an axe pushed through the gap.

The next strike revealed the weapon's shaft — a grotesque thing made of interwoven bones, like something dragged straight out of a nightmare.

Elias waited no longer. He surged toward the door, spear in hand, ready to strike.

From the other side came a raspy, guttural laugh: "Here I come!"

The blade struck again, shattering the door with supernatural force.

Graelish's face appeared through the gaping hole. Deformed. Corpse-like. His pale yellowed eyes burned with a sickly intensity.

His skin was ashen, threaded with purple veins. Sunken cheeks pulled his face into a twisted grimace — more pain than malice.

Rot-stained teeth, sharp and jagged, peeked from a half-open snarl. Filthy, tangled black hair hung across his forehead, completing the image of something no longer human.

Then he bellowed in a deep, snarling voice, meant to unnerve:

"Here is Graelish!"

Without hesitation, Elias thrust his spear. The moment the creature's head came fully into view, he drove the tip forward with force.

The weapon pierced the door — and did absolutely nothing.

The ghoul's face didn't even flinch. His dead flesh hadn't been scratched.

"Shit," Elias muttered, stepping back, eyes wide.

The shattered door groaned one last time before collapsing with a crash. Elias shouted instinctively, spinning toward Art:

"Got any ideas?"

Cornered in the cabin, Art responded with bitter calm:

"None."

Death felt imminent. The air was heavy with dread. Then Elias noticed something — a golden ring on the ghoul's left ring finger.

"…Was the ghoul married?" he asked aloud, startled.

The word married gave the creature pause. Its advance slowed. The twisted grin vanished. For a brief moment, the monster seemed almost... human.

Its vacant eyes flickered with a spark of memory, and in a hoarse whisper, it said:

"Yes... Married. Where is she?"

Elias, sensing an opportunity, took a risk:

"She's south of here. Trapped... with some weird skeleton."

The ghoul's brow furrowed.

"Skeleton...? Do you mean my brother Raelish...? Or my father... Vaelish?"

The trance shattered instantly. The ghoul's eyes began to glow again — an eerie light, as if something else was taking over. Elias's thoughts snapped into place:

"He's... being controlled. By that illusionist skeleton."

He didn't waste a second.

"Art! Give me the illusion-dispelling potion!"

With quick precision, Art opened the arcane panel, rifled through it, and summoned a small bluish vial, handing it to Elias with shaking hands.

Elias acted fast, forcing the potion down the stunned ghoul's throat. The liquid gleamed for a moment on the creature's dark-stained teeth before vanishing down its gullet.

Graelish's eyes trembled — and the glow snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

A hoarse cry tore from his throat, a mix of pain and relief. He collapsed to his knees, trembling.

Elias backed away, still on guard, but calming as the change in the creature's eyes became clear — more human now. More... lucid.

"Where... where am I?" Graelish murmured, scanning the cabin as though waking from a nightmare.

"You were being controlled by Raelish," Elias replied, keeping his spear raised. "But we freed you."

Graelish touched his face, dazed. His fingers brushed the ring on his left hand.

"She... my wife... He made me forget her. Used my memories to trap me in a lie."

Art stepped forward, still cautious.

"So... what now? Are you going to attack us again or... thank us?"

Graelish looked up at them. His voice was low and heavy with guilt:

"If I could, I'd kneel before you. But there's no forgiving what I've done. Especially to those people..."

Elias exchanged a glance with Art. The danger seemed to have passed — for now.

"If you want redemption, help us. We're trying to rescue the feudal lord's daughter."

Graelish gave a slow nod.

"I'll help in any way I can."

His voice was steady now, composed — as though the chaos they'd endured had already faded into the past.

Art let out a nervous chuckle, trying to ease the tension.

"Water under the bridge... right?" he said, forcing a grin, though clearly still intimidated.

Elias, meanwhile, couldn't shake the memory of Raelish. Though he'd never faced him directly, he remembered the sheer terror his undead horde had inspired.

At the time, he'd felt completely outmatched. Now, after facing Graelish, he was certain: those beings weren't in the same league.

Maybe because of that — or in spite of it — Elias swallowed his pride and asked boldly:

"Can you help us get stronger? We need to be ready for Raelish and Vaelish... if we're going to save the girl."

Graelish met his gaze, a flicker of his past self returning. He considered the two before him in silence.

The request wasn't absurd. And in a way... it was necessary.

Finally, he nodded.

"I can. But it won't be easy. The power you seek requires more than muscle or magic. To gain strength like mine... you'll need to give up a part of your humanity."

Art recoiled in alarm.

"You want us to turn into ghouls?! No way, man!"

Graelish didn't flinch. He spoke plainly, as one stating a hard truth:

"How do you think I became so powerful? Even my father — Vaelish — born with terrifying strength, had to undergo this to reach his current form. You, mere living men, wouldn't stand a chance otherwise."

Elias raised a hand, trying to steer the conversation back.

"Wait. We get it — you're strong. But we don't need to transform. We just need XP. Level up. Train, explore, complete missions. That's enough."

Graelish arched an eyebrow — a subtle but unsettling expression on his cadaverous face.

"XP...? What is that?"

Art answered, still wary:

"It's a kind of power we accumulate. Granted to us when we arrived in this world."

The undead stared silently, then narrowed his eyes.

"Wait... you're not from this realm?"

Elias nodded, face serious now.

"We were brought here by an entity called Daemon. He gave us a 'panel' with skills, spells, inventory and all that. Since then... we've been stuck here."

Graelish stroked his chin, clearly intrigued.

"Fascinating... When our fief was transported here, all we noticed was the explosion of mana in the air. That alone made us stronger."

His eyes narrowed further as thoughts connected.

"So... this Daemon grants power to outsiders. While we grow through the world's mana alone…"

Elias muttered aloud, thinking:

"Then... these Daemons orchestrated all of this. These conditions… aren't natural."

As the group's understanding deepened, Elias uncovered pieces of Graelish's family history.

"Your father's story... it sounds oddly familiar," Art mused. "Like an epic from my world."

Elias and Graelish exchanged glances, asking in unison:

"What do you mean?"

"It's an ancient tale, from an ancient civilizations. Two names come to mind: Enkidu and Gilgamesh."

Art stared into the fire, as though pulling the story from the flames.

"Enkidu was a wild man, living among beasts. One day, a priestess seduced him — and that changed him. He learned human ways and stopped being a beast."

"Then he fought Gilgamesh, a mighty king. They battled, but became friends instead of enemies."

"A brotherhood forged in combat. Until Enkidu died... and it shattered Gilgamesh. He then began a desperate quest for immortality."

"He found an immortal, heard of a herb of youth, nearly got it — but lost it before he could use it. In the end, he returned home. Wiser, but still mortal. And resigned."

Art looked at Graelish. "Your story… feels like a rewritten version of that. New names, new world."

Graelish gripped his axe tightly, gaze distant.

"Is it possible... that all of this is just a game to those entities? That even our memories and pain are part of a grand script?"

A heavy silence settled among them like fog.

"Well then… we need to get this XP, right?"

Elias nodded slowly, eyes fixed on Graelish.

"How do we get it?" he asked, curious but guarded.

Art stepped forward, voice still taut:

"By completing tasks. Missions. And… killing monsters, mostly."

The ghoul raised a brow — a twitch of expression that made his undead face even more unsettling.

"Interesting... killing monsters to grow stronger. Like gladiators feeding a crowd," he murmured, more to himself than to them.

He turned, heading toward the door leading into the forest.

"Follow me. I know where you can find creatures that'll be useful to you... and dangerous enough to be worth it."

Elias looked at Art, who sighed, hesitant.

"Ah shit, here we go again."