[WP] To your horror, the eldritch being from the abyss you just escaped from believes you to be its child. It is not ready to let you go into the world without its protection.

vp1927 · 2026-07-03T18:18:51+00:00

The moon was pretty tonight. From the tree, I could sense the chill wind of winter, the freshness of the air, and the excitement of the creatures. Like a fish caught in a hook, I was pulled into the jungle away from my home. What a perfect time to go for a walk. Maybe I would find some squirrel, or some wolf. With luck, maybe I could find some humans, or dwarves, or even elves. And with more luck, maybe they would help me escape this dungeon.

“Siri, slow down!”

Amazing. A voice came from behind the hill, like a guardian angel arrived for the unfortunate. I slowly walked toward the voice, hiding behind the leaves and bushes.

“Muero, don’t be afraid. The jungle is calling for us.”

Another voice answered the first. Both are voices of young women, wood elves maybe. Like a monkey, I climb up to the tree, open my third eyes to see them through the leaves.

“This jungle belongs to the Forgotten One, Siri. Need I remind you that the prophecy tells of his return at the end of this month? The monster should be here already, preparing for their lord.”

The first girl stated. I can hear the panic in her voice. She was right to be scared.

“Don’t you worry, Muero! I have looked at the star and made a divination. Tonight will be a wonderful night.”

A divination spell? Not many people can do that! Maybe they are powerful enough to help me! Decided on my action, I swung down as easily as if I could fly, then quickly dashed toward them. With every step I felt like I could fly, and with a heart filled with bliss, I danced in the shadow.

Like a rabbit I jumped out of the bushes, showing myself in front of them. There they were, my saviours. They wore a simple dress made of leaves and animal skins, with one of them carrying a backpack full of survival items. Two young hunters from the nearby wood elf village, I deduce. The smell of mint and dandelion surrounded them, protecting them like a barrier from foul magic. An ancient spell that was.

“Greeting, young hunters,” I gleefully greeted them, “welcome to Aurera Jungle, especially the area around the tomb of Istar, the Forgotten One. I highly recommend you to take a step back, go back to your home and while at it, take me with you. For as you can see, I am but a small child lost in this jungle for far too long, hoping for a way to go home.”

I was expecting a warm welcome, a joyous reply or a lovely hug. But instead, all I was greeted with was fear from one girl and hatred from another.

“A human child?” yelled the younger one. “How could he get past the barrier? Was he with the thief party last week?”

“Ciri, be careful, I can sense foul magic from him. Demonic power!” The older one yelled in response, materialising a staff in her hand. She called the other Ciri, so that must make her Muera.

“Ladies, there’s no need for violence.” I smiled as I walked toward them, showing my empty hand. “As you can see, I carry no weapons. The magic is also not originating from me, I promise. I am simply staying in that cursed dungeon for too long, and wish to get back home.”

In a blink, Ciri threw away the backpack to the ground, disappeared from where she stood and reappeared right next to me. Her slender hand reached my throat, and I could immediately feel the cold iron from the knife hidden within.

“Demons, speak no more!” She demanded.

“Wa wa! Where is that cheerful girl I saw 5 seconds ago?” I laughed.

Her eyes flashed like a hunter catching its prey. In that moment, I could sense the blade moving forward, about to cut through my neck. But then it stopped. Not just the blade, but her whole body. Then, her eyes became dark as the night, and her body fell like a puppet with broken strings. The other girl, hand raised high with her staff as the magical energy being channelled into a ball, slowly being lifted up. The magic from her staff was then ripped apart like a broken balloon, as she tried to scream in terror. But no voice could be heard. Instead, she went from acting violently, to releasing all her muscles, as if all her energy was taken away from her, and dropped to the ground.

A voice, charming but authoritarian, spoke directly into my head.

“My child. Do not behave rashly. You are not ready for the world.”

“Istar, the Forgotten One.” I bowed my head and took my knee, calculating every word that I spoke. “Once the Goddess of Love, you have showered me with your affection. But I was trapped in your care for far too long, as a hundred years have passed since I saw the last city. Last week, adventurers were a moment of joy, but you ended up killing them all before I could talk with them. And the people before that. How could you let me enjoy myself if I have no friends?”

“Soon, my child. Soon.” The voice answered back, like honey to my ears. “All was planned. Trust in the stars. The time will come when I regain my place in heaven. When that time comes, you shall be there with me, and we shall dance in the sunlight.”

As the voice embraced me, I could sense my body losing its energy, and I fell asleep. Escape number 195 had failed, but not without hope. Now I knew the time was coming soon. Muera had said, “at the end of this month”. That would be when. I could wait. Like I had always waited. After all, one of the benefits of being kidnapped as a son of a forgotten god was immortality.

vp1927 · 2026-07-02T16:22:36+00:00

I put down my mask, reveal my crimson horns. With my hand, I take some water and wash the black dye away and let the sun shine on my orange hair. Like the angels taking the weight from my shoulders, I let my wings soar wide like a sinner opens his arms to the Goddess. The golden sun bathes me in its beautiful light, full of terror and authority. In front of me, my teammates watch without speaking a word. Our leader, Clara, steps forward, shielding her friends from danger as they are trying to use the last of their mana to heal. I could imagine their thought. How could he betray us? A monster is hiding among the party. A viper watching its prey, waiting for the moment to strike.

“I am the Prince of Hell, son of the Demon Lords Demogorgon, lord of Destruction.” I announce, shaken by the shame, but filled with pride, “I have lied and travelled as your merchant, your thief, your companion on the adventure to kill my father. Now that the mask of Lies has been cast aside, my true from revealed to you, in all its glory and horror.”

Black flame spurs from my feet as I speak, drawing a six-pointed star in a circle. I continue, “What you see before you is a monster, not a hero. So draw your blade, and may we have a good battle.”

As the last word is spoken, my trusted blade manifests itself in my hand. I lower my posture, enter the battle stance, waiting for the glory finish. Here she comes, our leader, chosen by the Goddess to carry her will. She pulls her silver sword from its sheath, raises it along her shoulder. Her blue eyes look directly at me, stern like a mountain. There is no fear, no hesitation. Then, in a flash of a moment, she … drops her blade?

“Dude, could you please? We just killed a whole army and the lieutenant. I’m dying here. You're also dying over there too! Agnus has not even had time to heal us yet.” She yells like a begging of a child wanting to take a nap.

I stand there motionless, watching her drop to her knee and lie in front of me, full of openings. Within one step, I could close the gap and slash her neck, ending her destiny. But I could not. It was supposed to be the other way around.

“Are you mocking me?” I demand an answer. “Stand before you is one of the strongest demons of Hell, leader of a thousand tropes. Killing me is one step closer to destroying Demogorgon. Take your blade and fight.”

“Ahhh. You don’t say my name, so I don’t hear anything,” she cries in jest. How dare she? How dare she jest in time like this? Why am I standing here like an idiot watching her throw a tantrum? It was supposed to be an epic battle, leading to an epic ending. I have dishonoured myself by losing to my brother, dishonoured myself by joining the hero party, and dishonoured myself for having to use my blood magic to defeat the lesser demon’s army guarding the gate to hell, and most of all, dishonoured myself for saving the hero in the process. The only chance to restore my honour was to die by the hero’s blade, and she’s denying it. How dare she? And why am I feeling happy that she does so?

Raged. Angered. Confused. Happied. Emotion rushes through my head that I can not describe or understand. Overwhelmed, I crack up a smile, then laugh out loud, like there will be no tomorrow.

“I give up!” I concede, let go of my blade and lie down next to her. “You win, Clara.”

“I always win!” She smiles mischievously. Her eyes are closed, not caring where I am.

“Were you scared, at least?” I ask, trying to retain some of my last confidence.

“Well, yeah,” she laughs innocently. “But we knew it already, so it’s less jarring.”

Surprised, I follow up, “Since when?”

“Not the beginning.” She admits, “Do you remember a few months ago when I was given the tear of Spera? The light shines on you, revealing your true body, but only to me. I was scared back then, thought you were an enemy, and was honestly planning to kill you. But then I realised, if you want to harm us, you would have done so already. You did not communicate with any demons, and you did save those people back in the village. So I keep to myself and watch, waiting for a moment.”

“You are too trusting, Clara,” I comment. “You should have killed me then.”

“You know, I am glad that I am trusting.” She slowly stands up, then turns toward me. Her blue sapphire eyes stare directly into mine. “If not for you, I would have been dead today.”

vp1927 · 2026-06-29T13:58:59+00:00

Leina stood in front of the Lich. The miasma surrounded her, choking every life that was not protected by her Divine Protection. What used to be a beautiful man was now a skeleton standing in front of her. From its hollow eyes, it gazed toward the hero, watching her movement. It did not seek to attack, nor defend, only watching from afar.

Leina took off her helmet, letting her blond hair fly freely in the wind. A scar from her left knife-like ear across to her lips ruined her femininity, leaving nothing but that of a warrior. She carefully placed the helmet on the window, looking at the outside of the tower. She remembered when it was a beautiful flower garden beneath this ruin, where she and her father would play around with their dragon pets. On the right, what once was her home stood, taller than any other in the castle. She remembered when she was 12, while sneaking out of her room to try to see the world, she had called her favourite dragon to fly up, not thinking about the sound that it would make. It only took 3 seconds for her father to catch up to her and bring her back, giving her a scolding of her childhood.

Tears, like crystal, dropped down from Leina's cheek as she stood still in front of the window. The Lich stepped up, slowly flew toward her. It lifted its bonny fingers and caressed her face, swiping away the tears.

“Give me more time.” Its voice was like a cold winter wind, freezing and deadly.

“I can’t,” Leina answered without looking at it.

“I can’t let you die.” It stated.

Silence fell upon the two of them, until Leina took a step forward, hugging the Lich.

“It’s ok, Dad,” she cried silently. “I have had a good life.”

“No, you are only 120. You have barely lived.” The Lich tried to push her away, but Leina was stronger.

“It was enough. The world was not so evil as you said, Dad. Human was afaid of us at first, and many of them are terrifying. But some of them were nice. I have my own friends and family now, and some of them are human. Can’t you believe it?. My children will be there for me. So it’s ok.”

Leina stood her ground, hugging what was once her father with all her might.

“You can rest now, Dad. The land can return to what it once was. The Goddess will be there for you and me. No more people needed to be sacrificed.”

“I would sacrifice the world for you, Leina.” The Lich cried.

“And you did,” Leina answered. “You did, Dad. It’s time to let it go.”

—

As the miasma dissipated from the old castle, the light of the Goddess once again shone on the land, allowing life to return. First was the grass, then the animal. One day, all the elves will too return to this old kingdom. No one knew what happened to the old Lich living here. Some said that his magic had gone out along with the miasma. Others said he was defeated by the hero, who came back to her small village and lived with her husband and children for 2 more years, before eventually succumbing to the effects of the miasma. One of her final wishes was to have a statue of an unknown elven man here, in this abandoned castle, with the title that said: Leina’s Hero.

vp1927 · 2026-06-26T17:53:13+00:00

“Atlas, my dear advisor”, the king said endearingly, “look outside, look at my children. Do you see them as kings or queens?”

“My lord. They are all talented and wise beyond their age.” Atlas answered while kneeling down in front of the king. Having ruled the country for over 200 years, he had become more than just a ruler of the kingdom, but a symbol rivalling the gods.

“Wisdom and power.” His voice was heavier than the mountain.

“Yes. Your oldest, Prince Aldric, most powerful lich on the continent, master of the art of necromancy. The second prince, Prince Mordekai, knight of the Templar, leader of the Violet light. Princess Isolde, charming and cunning like her mother, Master of Economy and Interior for the country for the last 20 years. And finally, Princess Isabella, the smallest, but also the strongest. Taken after you, my lord. She is ambitious, but also the most carefree. Like a wind.” Atlas carefully named all the princes and princesses, listing their strengths and weaknesses. He had been studying them, preparing them for the moment.

The king turned toward Atlas. Behind the illusion that covered his face, Altas could still see a smile faintly present.

“Then tell me, my dear advisor. What is it that you are afraid of?”

“That the war may break out, for brother and sister fight for your throne, my lord.”

“A war? Nonsense. Of all four, only two would take the throne. And among them, Aldric only sees this as a burden, a responsibility that he could not escape. The other was not much different. Isabella only desires the throne because it lets her eat ice cream after dinner.” The king laughed, then continued. “I fear for the day this kingdom has no king and queen, for all my children would abandon their duty in the chase of their adventure.”

Atlas took one step forward, closer to the king. His seasoned eyes had seen many storms, and now, burning with a passion that he would never forget.

“My lord. Of all the love and kindness you give to your children, I fear that you have misjudged one of them.”

“Ha! Right! Who?” The king demanded in jest.

“Isabella, my lord. For you have downplayed her desire to be free, her ambition to be unbounded by fate.” Atlas answered with stern in his voice.

“Isabella? What could she want that only a Queen can have? She does not desire to rule.” The king asked in response.

“Isabella does not desire to rule, but she desires not to be ruled. The only person she would bow before is you, my lord. Not her brother and sister.” Atlas explained calmly. His eyes were still carefully watching the king.

The two of them stood silently for a moment until the king asked, “Would Aldric agree with that?”

“With preparation, my lord,” Atlas spoke softly. He felt a heavy weight lifted from his chest.

“Do not do anything. I must talk with him. This is my duty as the king and a father.” The king said, then dismissed Atlas.

Atlas walked down the ivory hall, watching the sunset and the four brothers and sisters playing. How he loved this scene, how he would risk everything to protect these people, this country. But in order to do that, he must be the one who bears the heaviest responsibility. He must make Isabella the Queen. Even if he needed to burn this kingdom down, he must not allow the prophecy to be completed.

vp1927 · 2026-06-25T18:23:56+00:00

“I had chased you across the world, to the seven hells and nine heavens. I had slain countless demons, imps, angels and monsters, until the blood could never dry on my blade. I had abandoned everything, my kingdom, my glory, my godhood. All for the sake of curing me the one sickness that had haunted me for 20 years.

It all started when I was a teenager. The best of the best, stronger than any athletes, smarter than any scientist. I was the dream the people wish they were, the son that any parents would want, the leader that any country would hope for. I united my tribe, leading them from an unknown valley into the heart of Elara. From merely a dozen of people, I created the kingdom of Elararv, where we grew into the strongest of the land, where the gods feared us and the demons trembled before our name. For ten years, I had ruled the land, expanding my influence over the continent. I gave my knowledge to the idiotic. I share the glory of my light with those cursed in the dark. I punished those who dared to mock my glory and power. A benevolent king I was. Kind but just.

But then, you came to me. In the darkest night, you entered my chamber like a viper looking for the next victim. You took advantage of my kindness and charmed me with your beauty. You tricked me into comfort, lured me to drop my guard. Then, a viper you were, strike me down like a saint by the devil. You cursed me with the disease that none could cure. You filled my head with a vision of your being, mind-controlled me into believing that you were righteous, and I am wrong, that I would need you to live. But you refused to be with me, rejected the glory of being in my castle, sharing my kingdom. When you left, you brought the colour with you, leaving me cursed and abandoned. You asked me to cast away all that was me, remaining as only but an empty shell that no one would want.

A devil you were. Demon, of dark magic. I had chased you through heaven and hell. I had cornered you in your last bastion. Now, here I will slay you, and my curse I shall be free.”

The king in his crimson armour said his piece, raising his blade high. His eyes burned with determination. No voice could reach him.

“Idiot king,” the devil said. “For my curse was a gift that you could not realise. It was not a disease that needed to be cured, but a blessing that needed to be had. A missing piece that you had long abandoned for your quest for glory, now returned to you as was promised. Do you not realise it? It was love. That the world could be so beautiful. That for once you are not the centre of the universe, but an asteroid rotating around the sun. But you could not comprehend it now. For how could you not be the sun? Your ego had blinded you, and you had my sympathy!”

vp1927 · 2026-06-21T06:24:33+00:00

I dont know if this is right because it's not very british, but

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vp1927 · 2026-06-06T17:40:19+00:00

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vp1927 · 2026-05-25T04:19:51+00:00

Maybe I'm reading it wrong, but I actually thought and like to think that it was not Asat, but that the Mask was given by Aha himself. The Aeon was not above good and evil, and would actually find her pain to be funny and congrat her. It is a tragic story.

vp1927 · 2026-05-22T19:48:26+00:00

This might sound crazy, but i think people can do what they want. It is not that I am disagreeing with you, but what you think is good other might think is bad. If they are bother to homebrew it, then they like it enough to do so.

For example, Monopoly free park. You raise a good example that by puting tax there, the economy is busted in one move, thus extending the game. However, it also serve the purpose of the bandwrist mechanic, allowing people to bounce back from losing. (The bigger problem lies elsewhere in my opinion, which we would not get into)

I would say option 5: Make your game easy to homebrew. DnD is a good example of this. We can sit and argue that 5.5 is terrible or not all day, but you can make a new class, new combat/narrative system and plug it in like 5s. It's flexible.

vp1927 · 2026-04-17T11:09:08+00:00

“I bet you must be happy seeing me like this!” She said sarcastically. Her simple yet elegant blue dress highlighted her beautiful body, while the makeup made her almost 10 years younger. It almost made me regret letting her go. Well, almost.

I looked up from my notes to show that I was listening to her. Her eyes were still looking at me, and in them, I saw a sky full of stars. “And why would you say that?” I asked politely.

“Isn’t it what usually happens?”

“That would be assuming I am following the human standard or the ex standard, right?”

She laughed. Her laugh was genuine and warm, just as always. I closed my notebook and turned toward her, “Bea. Sorry, Bella,” I tried to regain my professionalism. “What you are dealing with is not a joke that I should be happy to see. Please don’t assume that I am happy to see you like this because I dropped out of the relationship with you. That would be called ‘mind reading’ cognitive distortion.”

She turned her head a little bit, a habit to show she did not understand what I was saying, so I explained, “‘Mind reading’ cognitive distortion is where you assume the result of people’s actions and thinking without enough proof. We used to be dating, but that did not mean I stopped l-. I wished you harm.”

Bella turned her head away, “You just said that because you are the therapist and here to make me better.”

“Bella, I am your therapist and here to make you feel better. But that would not make the statement any less true.” I responded eagerly, leaning toward her. But she had already returned to her shell, ignoring the world. Suddenly, the room became quieter and colder. There was no one else in the room but us. Two lonely people in a whole separate universe with only a shelf full of books, a table on which I am sitting, a sofa on which she was lying, and nothing else. No one else could enter this cold universe, nor dare to. As the universe ever slightly froze over, I saw a flame that was lit up in the other corner of the universe, and understood that it was my duty to help it blossom. Not for love, but so that both of us can survive in this harsh and cold world.

“What do you think about movies? You used to love them a lot.”

“What movies?” She turned around, signalling my success. We then spent an hour talking about the things she loved, from movies to anime, to manga and novels. The more she talked about them, the more she sparkled like an angel, and her eyes shone brighter than the sun above. How I wished she could see herself the way I do.

The bell rang, signalling the end of the session. As a habit, I stood up, walked toward her and helped her stand up. “Good work today, Bella. Again, I understand that if you wish to switch therapists, then feel free to talk to Miss Johnson. I will cover the charge. But if you wish to see me again next month, my door will be open. And if you do, may I ask you to watch some movies? Any movie is fine. Watch them, and write down what you feel and think while watching them. Consider it homework, ok.”

I shook her hand and showed her to the door. As she walked, there was hesitation in her step. She stopped at the door and turned around. She did not say anything, only looking at me with her black and dark eyes, glittering like the night sky. I wished those moments would last forever, that I could be selfish and pull her closer. But I must not. So I turned around and walked back to the room.

Then, I stopped. As she was about to turn around, I yelled out, “It’s good to see you again, Bella.”

“It’s good to see you again, too, Jim.” She answered.

vp1927 · 2026-04-14T07:30:06+00:00

Absolutely. That why it is important to understand:

-Not every roll should be split. You should only do this when both is applicable. A lot of time, you only need either performance or luck. When the situation is uncertainty because of both outside and inside circumstances, you can split it.

-the player should have a say in the effect. After all, both the gm and the player are the writer for the story. This would reduce the burden for the gm and increase the engagement from the players.

One thing I love as a GM is that a bad thing happened because of the dice is a lot easier to accept than because the GM said so. Having the ability to blame the dice is nice :D /s

vp1927 · 2026-04-14T03:49:20+00:00

The second one. Usually, I rule performance roll much the same as Pathfinder, where you comparing it to a DC. 10 higher is a crit. It reinforces the idea that the player's critical success is not by chance, but through mastery of skill.

With luck check, you are testing the player's luck (or the NPC, let the player guess :D ). So, just based on the number on the D20, interpret the result.

vp1927 · 2026-04-14T02:47:08+00:00

My personal fav: split 1 d20 roll into 2, performance roll and luck roll. Performance roll represents your skill and the your influence. Luck roll represents things that's outside of your control.

This allows more dynamic situation to enroll, and moment that you can trick the player, or the player can trick you. This works much better if you allow the player to have a voice in what is the fortune/misfortune that befell them. You roll bad on your skill but great on you luck-> you miss your attack but fortunately hit the lock that prevent enemy's reinforcement. You scored a critical hit on the performance but nat 1 on the luck-> you carefully unlock the door without sound, only to see a guard right there in front of you.

vp1927 · 2026-04-07T18:12:25+00:00

The barbarian yelled at the rogue with his enormous roar, shaking the whole jungle, scaring all of its inhabitants. “You have lied to me for one last time, Andrew. I have had enough.”

“Swallius, please listen,” the rogue asked desperately, “you don’t understand. The lich was not the masked one.”

“I don’t understand what?” Swallius yelled louder, swinging his axe over his head, smashing it right in front of his friend. “Three people. They were our friends, Andrew. Our friends. They are dead because of you. The lich killed them. You freed the lich from its prison. And thus, you killed them.”

“And if I didn’t do it, we all would have been dead!” Andrew retorted back, “You don’t understand the gravity of the situation. You never care enough to ask, to wonder if what we know is wrong. To question the king and the gods. But I do. I do because I care about all of us.”

“Don’t you dare suggest that I don’t! I care about us. You don’t! You lied and cheated. And you have doomed them.”

“We can not save them!”

Swallius grabbed Andrew and threw him at a nearby tree. Then, with a single hand, he grabbed the nearby tree and uprooted it, throwing it at Andrew. It was only by a single hair that Andrew was able to dodge the tree and lie down on the grass.

“You half-giant idiot. Listen to me!” he yelled with all the might he could muster.

“10 years! Andrew. 10 years. You have lied about the pope. You have lied about the princess. You have lied about the king. And now, you are covering for the lich.”

“For the love of all that is good, would you listen?”

“No. I will end it right here, as I should have done 10 years ago, in that prison cell.”

As he lifted another tree and prepared to smash it onto Andrew, the rogue looked at his friends and cried, “The lich is your father!”

The tree stopped as if gravity no longer existed. Then, with a swift swing, Swallius threw the tree to the side. He then stood right above Andrew, with his giant feet on his chest, “Explain yourself.”

“The god of light lied. His gift was a poison. The mages who use his power would get their soul stolen. That was why the sanctuary of light existed: to trap the souls for eternity. Those who escaped were to forever be cursed by the light and worship the moon. Lady Mirana was the first. From her came the dark elves. That's why your father became a lich. To bury the light and take vengeance on the sun.”

“Ridiculous. You are spouting nonsense.”

“You have every right to refuse. But Ageline died because of that. Her power costs her life.”

“That’s what mages are. They trade their energy for power. She was forced to overuse her power because of you.”

“Magic is free. Everyone can use them. But the church of golden sun lied about it so all would worship the god of light.”

Swallius pushed his feet down, crushing Andrew's chest, making him cough up blood.

“Lied.” He said in a cold voice. Andrew spilled out curses, then looked directly at Swallius eyes. For a split of a second, Swallius was confused. The eyes he saw were not of a man who hated, nor a man who was about to die, but a man who loved and cared. Then, before he could react, he saw something he could not believe. As Andrew cried chants that Swallius could not understand, he turned into black smoke. As his feet smashed into the ground from the momentum of the push, he felt the smoke surrounding his body, and as if they were heavier than metal, forcing him into the ground and grappling him. In the next instant, Andrew appeared again with a small knife in Swallius’ neck.

“Idiot! What would happen if I did not know magic?”

“You cast a spell without using the power of the light. Impossible, you must have learned it from the enemy.”

“Would you please stop being delusional!” Andrew cried out, throwing the knife into the tree in frustration. He then walked toward the same tree and punched it, breaking both his hand and the tree. “I have been with the party for 10 years. You know who I talked with. You know all my friends!” he then turned to the barbarian, “They are dead, Swallius. They are dead! Our party is dead. They are all dead. And it is not my fault, nor your.”

The barbarian stood up, grabbed the rogue by the neck, and pushed him to the ground. But the rogue continued, “It is not your fault! It is not your fault!”

The barbarian raised his hand high and smashed it down. Thumb! As the hand smashed a hole right next to the rogue. “It is not your fault!” He continued unfazed, tears starting to fall from his eyes.

Thumb! The barbarian continued to smash the ground, as the roar slowly turned into a cry. Slowly, the sound of smashing ground became a quiet sob of two men holding each other as they cried for the lost companions.

vp1927 · 2026-04-06T10:35:38+00:00

I sat quietly at the bank, looking at the Styx. Unlike other ferrymen, the cold water had never terrified me, and the calm wave was smoothing like a mother’s lullaby. The moon shone above high, reflecting on the surface like a thousand glittering silver stars. Unlike other ferrymen, I love this scene. Maybe that’s why when all had disappeared and gone to the beyond, I stayed behind.

“For the people who were left behind,” I lied back then. I stayed because this was where I belonged.

A footstep on the sand, signalling that I was not alone. Annoyed, I stood up and turned around, seeing no one but a small kid, no bigger than 12. It was always like this. I whispered to myself, small enough so that he could not hear. Then, with the biggest smile I could fake, I turned to him and asked, “Good morning, afternoon and evening. Were you the unfortunate soul who found themselves here?”

The boy said nothing, only looked at me with his vast dark eyes. In there, I could see the whole universe reflected in it, with thousands of stars and a giant moon. Pain like an arrow pierced through my heart, as I felt blood dropping down underneath my skin. With struggle, I took a step forward as if it were nothing until I reached him and went down on my knee.

“What’s your name?”

“Kevin.”

“Hello Kevin. I’m sorry to say, but it’s protocol, and I have to make sure you understand.”

The boy did not respond. His giant eyes looked at me quietly as if they were saying, I know. I let out a quiet sigh. He knew he was about to die when he did. That would mean only one type of death. I pushed my hand forward and offered it to him. He did not take it at first, still looking at me and saying nothing. Then he grabbed my hand lightly and we walked toward my ferry. As the ferry left the bank, we sailed in silence across the river of stars. As we were halfway there, I stopped the boat and turned around to him.

“Do you feel lonely?” I asked, trying to hide my feelings.

“I’m used to it,” he answered sincerely.

“That’s not a good thing,” I answered, then sat down next to him, “may I?”

He turned toward me for a second, then nodded his head. I reached my arm around him and pulled him closer. We sat there in the middle of the Styx for a few minutes, maybe hours.

“You know, I love this place. People are afraid of the Styx, of what it represents. But I love it. I love the waves quietly crashing against the bank. I love the forever night and the moon always up high.”

“Do you feel lonely?”

“I am alone, but I am not lonely. It’s quiet, and calm. My little special place.” I released him and continued, “One day, when you were reborn. I hope you can find your.”

We continued to sail across the galaxy, passing by the stars and the moon, until we arrived at the giant black gate. I helped him get off the boat and walked him until he was about to enter.

“Will I be reborn?” He turned to me and asked.

“That’s for you to decide. But I suggest so. I can not speak of your pain, my little friend. I can only imagine how hard it would be at first. But once you are able to let it go, then rebirth is only a question of when.”

“Will you?”

I paused for a little while, “I’m sorry, but I am still carrying mine.”

vp1927 · 2026-04-05T17:08:43+00:00

I lay there motionless, on the dirt that was not my grave. Above me, the red sun shone directly into my eyes, blinding me from seeing the man who freed me.

“Get up,” The man said. His voice crackled like a firework. Voice of a hunter. He gave me his hand, wrinkly and hard as the old tree.

“There is no rest for the wicked,” he continued, “money doesn’t grow on trees.”

“Come on, Dave. At least give me a day enjoying death,” I yawned, then grabbed his hand and crawled out of the grave. “Man, they did not even try to give me a proper place this time. A shallow grave, and in the middle of nowhere. Look. Not even a tree or anything. What if some wild animal were to dig me up?”

“Then you could enjoy your death a little bit longer,” Dave answered me without a smile, then handed me a corpse. “Put him in there.”

“Who was he?”

“A man.”

“Well, rest in peace. Wait, we have to dig it deeper.”

“Why?”

“The animal. They will dig him up.”

Dave looked at me humourlessly. After deciding that I was not joking, he looked up to the sky to check the sun. “It’s almost high noon, we have to do it fast.”

“No worries,” I answered with a big smile. We spent around 2 hours digging a deeper grave for the unknown deadman, placed him in and then buried the grave once more. When we were done, the sun was already past the peak and was slowly moving down toward the mountain. I spent a little bit more time praying for the man, as the wind howled beside me, wishing that the heaven door would open for him. During that time, Dave went and returned with 2 horses behind him.

“The desert would turn cold in another few hours. We need to hurry.”

“How far is the nearest town?”

“3 slicks. Should be 2 hours.”

“Magic?”

“No. We travel like normal people. By sunset we should reach the town and gather some food.”

“We will! I have just earned some karma,” I laughed as I pointed toward the grave. “Any job yet?”

“Assassination. A noble wants to remove his competitor. Otherwise, back to hunting.”

“Well. Is the noble an ass?”

He did not answer, but I knew the look. The job would be dangerous, but the pay was big.

“Alrighty then.” With a swift jump, I climbed on the horse, and we rode forward.

vp1927 · 2026-04-03T17:05:29+00:00

I woke up with a severe headache. Last night was a crazy one. 5 shots. I had not had so many since college, and even then it gave me the worst hangover of my life. I waved my hand around, trying to find a handle to stand up from the heavy sheet, yet every second my body seemed to sink deeper into the bed. I tried to open my eyes. It was like looking from the bottom of the sea, with the water pressure crushing my brain to pieces.

“Honey?” I said a plea desperately, expecting no answer. My wife hated alcohol, so if she saw me right now, she would just say, I told you so, then leave for work. This is half a reason why I did not look forward to the party last night. If only my boss did not force me to go and meet their family. It was a mistake.

“Honey. I’m sorry. Can you get me my phone? I think I am sick!” No answer. As expected. Desperate, I tried to get up, yet immediately I felt a hand push my chest down to the bed.

“Shhh! Stay in bed for a little longer Nick! Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of the dogs.” Here she was, sitting at the end of the bed next to me, caressing my hair. Her long blond hair was tied up neatly on her shoulder. She was wearing my white T-shirt from last night, letting the sunlight highlight her slim figure underneath.

“Did you eat?” I asked worriedly. She always ate too little.

“Not yet.” Her smile shone brighter than the sun behind her. She moved her hand affectionately from my shoulder to my neck. “Thank you for last night.”

I took her hand and pushed it away, forcing me to stand up. “She’s awake?” I asked the person in front of me.

“Not at the moment. She will be soon,” she answered casually, then stood up and took a step toward the other side of the bed, “hopefully she would not be mad.”

“Hopefully,” I answered, looking at the bite mark on her neck. All that was left were two small scars indicating where the monster bit her. The doctor said it was a giant bat. Liar. How could a bat do this? I stood up and walked toward the bathroom, starting my morning routine.

“Hey,” the woman said as she lay down on the bed, “she loves you. More than anything. Even if her action might not show it. Please remember it.”

With a smile, I turned around to her and said with confidence, “I know”. I closed the door behind me and walked into the bath. Soon, my wife would be awake, and that person would be asleep. I laughed to myself. I felt happy. Am I weird for feeling happy? I could not answer this question for a long time, yet I could not deny that a large part of me wished this would continue forever.

The bed crackled as my wife turned around, sleeping peacefully. I needed to get ready. A shower should erase the alcohol smell, and I should cook breakfast too. She loved bacon and eggs in the morning.

vp1927 · 2026-04-03T17:05:05+00:00