It was during a time when he was very small. Perhaps a few years old, still learning about the world. His parents had taken him to church for some reason. Their words come into mind, and yet they didn’t mean anything to the baby Adrian back then.
They said something about ‘Purification’, ‘Baptism’. Fancy words that he cannot even roll them on his tongue and pronounce, so he kept quiet. He often stayed silent as a kid, perhaps that was an instinct protecting himself.
Or perhaps a facet of his talent that he didn’t understand back then.
They brought him to the church with a few more kids his own age. All of them dressed in neat white dresses. The weather was gray, dark, and ominous. The faces of the adults were all smiles though, so he too smiled and tried to fit in.
Then the ‘Baptism’ started.
Everyone sat in the pews while a priest walked to the altar where a bowl was fixed upon a miniature version of the Tower. He couldn’t see into the bowl from his position and height, but he remembered his parents reminding him that this was the Tower’s symbol.
They sang a song, and Adrian tried to keep up, but he couldn’t do it properly so his mother had lightly slapped him and told him to sing in his heart. Adrian blocked the teardrop on its way and did as he was told.
Then they sat back on their seats, and the first kid was brought up front.
Adrian cannot remember her name very well now, but he remembers he used to play with her often as kids.
She was brought up with her parents, a gleeful smile on her face showing her white teeth. The priest muttered something to her and to her parents and they all laughed.
And then he took out a blade and cut a line on her forehead.
She didn’t cry, for some reason. Adrian was horrified from his seat, but she didn’t cry. She continued to flash her teeth, like it was the most normal thing ever. The parents too smiled.
And then they handed her to the priest who dipped her head in the bowl. Adrian could remember his own breath coming to a stop, as he mentally counted how long she had been in the bowl. Far too long from his count.
And then he brought her back out, a red liquid flowing down her face. Adrian didn’t know if the liquid in the bowl was red, or if she had bled so much.
Still smiling, he handed her to the parents, who wrapped her in a red towel, and took her back to their seat.
Time passed irregularly after that. More kids were brought up, more foreheads were cut, and more teeth were flashed. Adrian had been unconsciously clutching onto his mother’s dress, terrified out of his mind, and almost didn’t respond when his name was called out.
He was brought back to his mind by another tight slap on his cheeks. He looked at his mother’s furious eyes, and somehow understood his own role in this debacle. He just has to smile, show his teeth, and he’ll be okay. He’ll be okay…
The knife still hurt. He didn’t cry though, he didn’t break. He looked at the blood red liquid in front of him, and he cried into it, hiding his tears with the liquid clinging to his face. A metallic taste remained.
Wrapped in his own towel, Adrian felt protected. Hidden from view, alone, and scared. He watched the last few kids get theirs done, Martin too among them. He didn’t know how, but he had this impression that Martin was just as scared as him.
Perhaps that was the reason why he chose to befriend Martin after that.
When they had been walking out of the church, Adrian noticed the first girl and her parents talking to the priest.
Then they handed her to him, and the priest disappeared somewhere inside the church. His young mind, who couldn’t understand the interaction, asked his mother. Her words always remained with him.
“She’s a lucky girl. She’s going to be blessed by god.”
He didn’t see her for a few weeks after that.
Yes, this really is his first real memory. The day he really woke up to the cruelty and wrongness of this world. His alone place in it, and how much he wished everyone could just end up dead.
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Adrian wakes up with a gasp, and instantly his mind slips. As if tumbling through air, he falls back on his bed, a splitting pain stabbing in his temples.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Adrian presses his hands against his temples, trying to ease the pain, but nothing seems to happen. He can feel blood violently rushing into his brain, veins throbbing underneath his palm, and he can feel them about to burst.
And suddenly all of it subsides.
The headache cools, but the spinning remains. He cannot sit up, as he feels like he’ll throw up if he even tries. So Adrian stays in bed, a huge blanket covering him. He is sweaty inside, but the outside is cold.
With barely open eyes, he starts to scan the room.
He appears to be in a small dinghy room. A fireplace crackles on the other side of the room, filling it with the only source of light. The windows by his bed are tinted icy blue, and maybe it’s his imagination, but he sees snow falling outside. It doesn’t snow on the third floor.
He looks away, his mind throbbing even at that act. A figure sits by his side. She appears middle aged, wearing a yellow blouse and white pleated skirt. She has glasses on, reading a book in the dim light of the fireplace.
To be honest, Adrian believes that he too can do it at his current Mind stat.
“You woke up.” She says, without taking her eyes off the book.
“Where am I?” Adrian stutters.
Finally she puts her book down and looks at him. She has yellow eyes, like her blouse. “Able to speak as well. I was doubtful, given the damage to your soul, but I’m glad to see that you haven’t turned into a complete idiot.”
She stands up and walks towards the fireplace, bringing out a kettle from within with her bare hands. “Do you fancy a cup of tea?”
Adrian silently nods. He could go for some tea in his current state.
“Who are you?”
“Just a normal healer making some tea. Your friends dropped you off here. Do you remember them? Do you remember who you are?” Adrian feels a weight settle on him, like a cover of snow melting in his body.
“I know who they are… I know who I am,” Adrian says, his head hurting even more as he tries to remember their faces. His own face and his memories. The world spins and distorts, violent lines snaking through the room. Adrian clutches onto the blanket in reflex, his mana working within him, only for the pain and hallucinations to suddenly disappear.
“It’s okay. Don’t overexert yourself. Your mind is safe, and so are your memories. You just need some time to sit down and relax. You need time to let your mind heal.” The woman says, bringing two cups of steaming tea towards him.
She sits both of the cups on her stool and first helps him sit up, the soothing sensation keeping his headaches away, until his head cleanly rests on the wall. The fragrance of the tea has already filled the small room. There is something extremely calming about the smell.
Then she hands him his cup.
Adrian takes a big sip, the heat not much of an issue for him with his resistance. The taste, although a little sour, instantly fills all of him, bringing a sigh of relief.
“This is great. Thank you very much.”
“It is made from medicinal plants, so I’d have been devastated if I wasted it all on something worthless,” The woman smiles and sips her own drink.
“I don’t think I thanked you for healing me. Thank you very much. But… where are we?” Adrian asks.
“It was a favour for a friend, don’t mention it. Also, we are on the 4th floor.”
“4th floor!?” Adrian whips his head to look outside, although the motion brings pain.
So I wasn’t hallucinating then. I really am on the 4th floor.
Adrian notices that he has some messages from the Tower pending. Taking a sip of his tea, he welcomes them.
You have entered the Fourth Floor: White land
There are three settlements on this floor. One to your west, and one to your north, and one to your south.
There is only a single floor boss across this floor. Once killed, the floor boss takes five days to respawn.
To clear the floor:
-
You must defeat the floor boss, or at least be a contributor in defeating the boss.
-
Sacrifice 800 litres of magically treated blood at the altar after defeating the floor boss.
It is the standard message one receives when crossing the floor. All of this is really real.
“What about the others? Where are they? Where are us? Are we in a settlement?” Adrian asks.
“The settlement is a little distance away from here. Don’t worry, I’ve signalled them, so they should be here in due time. But really, you shouldn’t worry about such stuff right now, and focus on healing your mind,” The woman says sternly.
“What really happened to my mind?”
“Due to excessive damage to your brain, it has developed serious cracks. Your body has still not ascended past the need for a brain, hence your mind’s survival depends on the brain. If you lose your brain, you lose your mind.
“Thankfully, the girl brought you here soon enough, otherwise you would have died. For now, I’ve healed your brain, but your mind is still healing. It’ll do so at its own pace. During this time, you may experience frequent headaches, hallucinations, and nausea.”
Adrian hums in response, taking in the knowledge of the healer beside him. He really did do a number on his brain for the sake of survival, but the fact that it paid off is somewhat comforting.
When was I brought here?
Five weeks, 2 days, 17hrs, 3mins Before Now.
Adrian almost spit his tea in shock. “I’ve been here for 5 weeks!?”
“Yes you have. Do. Not. Underestimate. Brain damage. Got that?” She says, poking him in the chest with every word. “And you’ll need at least another month or two to heal completely.”
After drinking her tea, the woman leaves the room in her thin blouse and skirt, completely unfazed by the cold outside, leaving Adrian alone in the room with his thoughts.
And the thoughts come flooding into him like a wave now that he’s alone. There’s relief, at being alive; thankfulness, for everyone who helped him stay alive; exhaustion, a deep tiredness somewhere in his soul; shame, at being reduced to this state; and finally there’s regret.
Regret at being too afraid to ask the correct question when he should’ve. Regret because he once again came so close to death, when he has means to prevent that.
No more now. I won’t hesitate now. I need the answers, and I need them now.
Adrian declares, more to himself than to anyone else. The one question that he didn’t ask back then.
“When am I going to die?”
The answer comes after a few seconds. The few seconds which feel like an eternity in front of the question. Adrian even worried that perhaps the answer would never come. He couldn’t tell if that would’ve been a good thing or bad.
But then the answer arrives.
Within a month From Now.
Adrian stares at the answer, silently, patiently. Maybe the answer will change if he doesn’t move. But when it doesn’t, he can only say one word.
Fuck!
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