First Trial

An eerie silence fell upon Mathew. Pressing against his ears, and swallowing his every thought. It was all just, too much. He felt ready to give up, he wanted to rest. Slowly, a strange feeling began enveloping him, his body nestling him in its embrace. Or was radiating from within him? Wherever it originated from, he couldn't tell the difference. And he honestly couldn't care less.

The passage of time felt meaningless to him now. Whether it stretched endlessly or became stagnant was of no significance. He just drifted with almost no sense of presence. All he felt, or cared to feel, was the gnawing sense of emptiness. 

Disturbing this peace, a voice resounded in his mind.

[Herald candidate, welcome...]

'Wait. A Herald candidate?'

Heralds. Humans who possess almost supernatural abilities. People like Mathew rarely had the opportunity to see these individuals. But even without seeing them, the stories of their exploits, wielding unrealistic and fantastical powers against monsters-akin to nightmares-would always reach his ears. 

Before being able to put his thoughts in order, the voice spoke once more.

[Herald candidate, prepare to face your first trial.]

***

Mathew felt a shift, and could no longer feel the hollow emptiness that drowned him only moments ago. Instead, a new, alien sensation crept over him. His eyes fluttered open and in the reality of his surroundings, he found himself lying on his belly with a cold, cobblestone floor pressed against his cheek.

He pushed himself off the cobblestone floor and his surroundings slowly began coming into focus. Looking up, dim light filtered through the slowly dissipating haze. Confusion washed over him as the walls of the passageway he found himself in stretched out before him were adorned with large, white gems the size of a head that emitted a dim illuminating glow.

He was taking in the scene when the wave of a heavy metallic scent stung his nostrils.

'What the! What is that!?'

Turning his head slowly, he scanned the eerily quiet passageway. The lack of proper lighting made it hard to see, but his instincts told him exactly what he was looking at. Falling upon something sprawled on the floor beneath him, his eyes opened wide. As displeasing as he found it. The smell, and sight before him were all too familiar with. But were at the same time, different. 

At his feet was a pile of mangled flesh, pieces of shattered bone, a stagnant pool of blood, entrails and organs strewn everywhere. They, were corpses. The sight sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over him as his eyes took in the gruesome scene at his feet. The metallic scent that had initially stung his nostrils now intensified, mingling with the visceral state of reality.

Mathew stood in silence. It felt as if the universe had conspired with fate to deepen his despair, forcing him to confront death once more. The world around him blurred, and he fought to suppress the rising tide of panic, jerking his face away. He looked around, his bewildered gaze darting between the disfigured and dismembered corpses. 

"Where the hell, am I?"

He slowly rose to his feet and took a shaky step back. Doing his all to avoid the mounds of flesh. With breaths coming in shallow gasps, he could feel a cold sweat trickle down his neck. Then, despite his care, his foot caught something. Tumbling over, he felt a viscous and slick texture on his palm. He raised his hand and from it, a stream of crimson oozed.

He shifted, feeling something against his leg. To his side were corpses ripped apart, and with thin and jagged shards of bone protruding from them.

"Breathe Mathew, breathe" he whispered to himself.

Looking around, and wiping his bloodied hand against one of the corpse's clothes, searching the passage for any sign of an exit or a way forward. But there were none. Suddenly, he noticed a hint of vibration-unsettling and sporadic. Then came the muffled sound of metal clanging. The vibrations and tremors that reverberated through the walls of the cobblestone passage sent an ominous chill down his spine. 

Shaking off the eerie sense of unease and discomfort creeping up on him, Mathew resolved himself and started down the passage and toward the origins. As he moved, the reverberations became stronger. This was beginning to feel like a mistake. Yet he couldn't just turn around. He had to figure out what exactly was going on.

Step. Step. Another step. Faint traces of human voices now accompanied the metallic clanging. Ans son, a knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach. The survival instincts he had learned and honed daily while living in the higher districts, were screaming at him. Telling him to turn back. Caution, reason, and curiosity struggled desperately for superiority within his mind as he pressed on. 

Soon, he approached a turn at the end of the seemingly endless passageway and cautiously peeked around the corner. As he did, his eyes were drawn to the walls where deep claw marks marked the cobblestone walls. They were fresh. with edges still dark raw and smeared with blood.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and stepped around the corner. What he saw beyond, was a sight most humans wouldn't have nor want the opportunity to witness.

Before him was a creature. No a monster beyond his wildest nightmares. A Voidspawn. Corrupted creatures or grotesque amalgamations gifted with such supernatural strength, that no mere human could hope to challenge them.

Among those creatures, there are ranks separating them by strength. From the weakest: Dormant, Awakened, Corrupted, Lesser, Fallen, Greater, Unholy.

Within those ranks, are classes that further distinguish them based on the number of essences they possess. Of which there are also seven: Beast, Monster, Devil, Demon, Terror, Titan, and the strongest of all, Nightmares.

Encountering a feral beast alone, would spell nothing but doom for Mathew. His heart raced as he took sight of the beast. It was a quadrupedal, approximately three-foot-tall reptilian abomination. Its black scales shimmered in the dull light. On its back, two tentacle-like appendages on its back slithered about, each tipped with powerful mandibles. 

Mathew stared for a moment. Then his lips curled upward as he forced a crooked, humorless smile.

"Just what in the world is this?" he whispered.

Just what indeed. The beast was crouched low, dashing across the old cobblestone floor faster than what should have been physically possible for a creature of its size. Commanding all of Mathew's undivided attention. The tentacle-like appendages writhed in the air, their mandibles clicking ominously.

He took a cautious step back, then suddenly, the glint of metal shone across his face. Attacking the beast from below, stood a man clad in a silver plate armor lined with black accents, wielding a long sword with a jet-black blade.

Stood a few dozen steps to the side though, was something he didn't expect. It was a woman.