The night seemed to last forever, blurring into a confusing amalgamation of sights and sounds. It was a night of unspeakable horrors, a tragic tapestry of terror and loss. With each fellow killed, a new abomination joined the ranks of the enemy. Thought disappeared in response to the mind-numbing, never-ending horror. Only the determination to stand, the refusal to become one of them remained. Finally, just before the palisade was overrun completely, the rays of dawn cracked the sky. And just like that, the monsters vanished.

Dharen walked the battlefield, as if a shambling corpse in a sea of the fallen. The tears had long since given way to rage. The rage had long since given way to apathy. Even the horrors of the city gutters had not prepared him for the primordial terrors of the first floor.

He returned to the village, one despondent face among many. The villagers, like the makeshift guardsmen, were tired. They were weak. Hopeless. Simply waiting for the terror-filled nights to arrive and strip their lives away.

As he plodded along the village’s unpaved streets, a voice cried out from behind a nearby building. “They took my boy, I’m telling you!” The grief-filled words broke his mournful ruminations as he walked the village’s sole dirt path. “My boy, Lane. My precious boy…” The words choked off with a sob.

“Derick, you know that I am sympathetic. But I cannot spare the personnel for a manhunt that could very well prove fruitless. Not when we’re barely holding it together with those we already have.” Another man, who must have been Lane, responded consolingly.

Turning a corner and finding the source of the words, Dharen cut in: “Perhaps I can volunteer my assistance? If you would explain the problem, that is.” Though it was not entirely within his nature to offer unsolicited help, he reminded themselves that these people were not real. And, ironically, that meant that they each served a purpose.

With a tearful face, Derick responded. “The day that the attacks began, my boy went off with that troublemaker, Roy. But only Roy came back. He hasn’t spoken a word since, but I know that he knows something. I can feel it in my bones, I can.”

“Now, now. Don’t you trouble the boy. He hasn’t eaten or slept a wink in the four days since the attacks started. Let alone breathed a word. Poor boy’s lost his wits. I won’t have you going on a crusade and starting an interrogation.” Lane said.

With a pained look, Derick agreed. As Lane made his exit, Derick surreptitiously motioned for Dharen to follow. After making their way inside a small shack-like abode, they settled down to talk.

“Thank you for listening to my request, Elath. As I’m sure you know, my boy William has always been too curious for his own good. And it had gotten even worse ever since he met that troublemaker, Roy. Filling his head with fairytales, lies, and other such nonsense. I just know that they ran off somewhere chasing after one of that brat Roy’s damn tall tales.” His words became increasingly vehement as he spoke, quickly reaching a furious crescendo. He took a breath slowly and carefully to calm himself.

Breathing out deliberately, he continued. “Four days ago, Roy came back to the village. William didn’t. And that very same night, those abominations began to attack. Because of the attacks, I haven’t been able to go out and properly search for him. And to make things worse, I just know that Roy could tell me where to find him. But the brat won’t say a word!”

“And you want me to see if I can get an answer out of the kid?” asked Dharen.

“I want you to find my fucking son! I don’t give a damn what it takes. I can’t do it, Lane won’t let me near the kid. I may have gotten a little agitated the last time I saw him. Now they keep him away under lock and key, especially from me.”

Thinking it over, Dharen decided that a little investigation wouldn’t be amiss. It was unlikely that he would encounter a scenario that was entirely meaningless during a floor challenge of this nature. With that in mind, he assured Derick that it would not be a problem, as long as he knew where to find Roy.

A few minutes later, Dharen arrived at the house where Roy was located. He quickly cased the small two-story house. The windows were sturdily boarded up, and the front door was too visible - it abutted directly with the village’s main pathway. Sneaking carefully around the back, he made a discovery. The building had a second story balcony with the door ajar. Jackpot, thought the former thief. Why risk picking a lock in plain sight when locks can be avoided altogether?

In a display of enhanced strength and agility, he scurried up the pitted wood facing of the house and entered through the balcony. It didn’t take much searching to find Roy. The boy lay in bed like an invalid, staring out into space. If it weren’t for his eyes, Dharen might have thought the boy was catatonic. But he recognized those eyes. He knew those eyes. The haunted look of a child, innocent no longer, who has seen death too early.

Dharen approached the bedside. Sitting down and facing away from the boy, he spoke softly. “I know that the other boy, William, is dead.” A slight, sharp movement rustling the sheets sounded from behind Dharen. He had hit his mark.

“All I want to know is where the boy died. Nothing more.” He waited patiently as the seconds turned to minutes, and as the minutes stretched on.

Finally, with a voice gravelly from grief and disuse, Roy responded.

Later, Dharen prepared himself at a cave’s entrance. Roy, confronted once more with the reality of his friend’s death, had been a dam ready to burst. Truth had poured out like floodwaters, in a frenzy of words.

It started with a story. A legend, really. There had once been a small boy. Ever curious, he wandered outside of the village at any and all opportunities. Eager to explore the world. Until one day, he didn’t come back. The villagers were set into a panic, searching the outskirts of the village desperately. Yet, their search parties could only wander so far from the village. It was a dangerous world, after all. Monsters lurked behind every tree, behind every stone.

A week later, the boy returned. However, there was a problem. In his naivete, he returned with one of those very same monsters. While it was still a newborn, the adults knew better. They knew very well how dangerous it could become. And so, in the dead of night, they drove it away.

Though a newborn, the villagers were quite superstitious, afraid the creature might hold eldritch powers. Thus, they hesitated to approach too closely. Instead, they harried it carefully away. Eventually led to a small cave in the valley walls, the monster was trapped. At that moment, the adults let loose a landslide, crushing the creature in a deluge of boulders.

And from that day forth, it was said that a quiet wailing could be heard in the area in the dead of night. A wailing of loss, and of longing. Roy had heard tell of the story and, with all of the curiosity of an inquisitive child, had recruited his friend William to investigate with him. They had found a rubble-filled cave and, in a flight of fancy, began to dig through the stones. Just as the sun was setting, William made a discovery. It was a gem buried in the stone, a cobalt blue jewel that filled the air with a feeling of loneliness.

William, unable to help himself, grasped the gem. He pulled with all his might, and then some. Just as Roy was about to tell him to give up and come back later, it happened. The boy’s fingers slipped. He fell backwards in a rush. Vulnerable skull met sharp, uncaring stone. And just like that, a boy died.

Before Roy could react, a mournful wailing cut the air. A brilliant blue shone from deep within the gem. In that moment, tendrils of shadows coalesced along with William’s lost life force. The first abomination was born. And from that birth, fame horrors untold.

Dharen approached the cave. Just as expected, he found the partially cleared rubble. More importantly, he found the cobalt blue gem. He pried apart the stones, throwing them to the side. As they were removed, a new sight was unveiled. Attached to the gem, underneath all of the rubble, was the remains of the little boy’s pet monster. Dharen could only speculate that The beast had been truly touched by the boy’s companionship, and grievously injured by the villagers’ vicious rejection. The experience had triggered an Awakening in its final moments, forming the gem. A Seed of Loneliness, seeking to make companions even after death. It was enough to make Dharen feel a slight hint of pity.

Dharen broke off his musings. It would be dark before long, and the horde of abominations would soon be out to hunt if they were not cut off at the source. Kneeling down, he gently touched the creature and cast Harvest. The small, lonely cobalt blue soulseed fell to the floor with a light clink.

To be safe, Dharen returned to the village with soulseed in hand. Though he knew that there would be no attack that night, he couldn’t help but feel the need to see for himself. After experiencing the horrors of the previous attack, he felt a need to ensure the village would be safe. Though their ancestors had in some way brought the attacks upon them through their actions, the villagers themselves were innocent.

That night, the guardsmen stood ramrod straight at their posts, filled with fear and trepidation. The night continued to progress, the sky filling with an impenetrable darkness, yet no attack came. Certain that the peaceful night was a trick, the anxiety in the air only grew greater and greater. Yet as the night drew to a close, Dharen looked to his fellow guardsman. The man’s flask lay forgotten, left in the dirt like so much refuse. Tears poured from his eyes, dripping from his beard like miniature rain. The rays of dawn cracked the sky once more. The attack never came.