Chapter Text
PROLOGUS
Weird. There was no other word to describe the ruins around her, cutting in underneath the thick hanging leaves of the trees. The sky was tinged in orange and gold – a setting sun – and Morrigan raised her hand to wipe the sweat off her face. Gripping the hilt of the sword on her waist, she walked off to the side where the ground was a little more even. The ruins around looked foreboding, tall and decrepit, marked and hidden by the tall trees around it and the shadows lurking in the corners. Even though the expedition had set camp here in Terra for quite some time now, she still hasn’t gotten used to the terrain. Well, just a few more hours to go and she can call back in for the end of her shift.
She climbs over a thick root and skirts around a fallen boulder, the dismal light cutting in patches through the trees, the craggy towers silent in their stillness. Looks creepy enough if she really thinks about it, the same way her brother used to scare her with stories of ghosts hiding in old rooms and dark corners. Growing up during the Long Night – it ceased to be a story, that she knew, when real daemons lurked in the shadows outside Lestallum’s walls.
“Fucking hot,” she growls, pushing her hair out of her face. She should have brought her cap – this is exactly what happens when you spend the night drinking with friends and waking up five minutes late for your shift with a hangover. A breeze picks up and the tall grass blades shift, the sound echoing in her hears. She’s grateful for the slight, if temporary, respite and looks back to the ruins. The silence returns.
She pauses, gripping the sword again. She frowns and looks up – she hasn’t heard a single bird call in a while now. The sky was still golden – daytime – but the shadows in the forest were growing thicker. Dusk.
It wasn’t unusual, especially in this part of Eos, to have really weird weather. The days had been longer in the first few weeks they’ve settled down here in Terra but they’ve been growing steadily shorter. Just yesterday, she made it back to camp in the nigh darkness. Scouting was always dangerous, but it had become less so after the Long Night had ended and the daemons had disappeared. The only danger now lay in getting lost or taking a nasty fall with nobody around to help you.
Morrigan had been a hunter for a few years now – been with the Highwind Expedition for the better part of the last four years. She wasn’t helpless, and she definitely wasn’t in need of saving.
Still – her eyes swiveling around the forest – Terra was one of those lands that were recently discovered. Nobody knew anything about them – not more than what she knows, anyway. Even if she wasn’t some scientist off in a lab and studying dirt, she knows enough to understand that when it comes to magic and Astral bullshit, it’s best not poke at things you’re not sure of. Not with all the ice in Gralea melting when the Glacian’s corpse broke down a year ago. Shit’s been weird ever since then.
Well, no point in worrying about all that, not when she has a job to—
Wait.
She frowns.
The thing about being alone in a really quiet place is that your mind starts to play tricks on you, makes you think you’re hearing things when you’re not – takes some training and discipline to get used to just how damn quiet everything could be when you’re all by yourself.
That drives the realization that what she’s hearing – a sort of grating, dragging sound, like something metal grazing stone – wasn’t a figment of her imagination. She falls to a crouch, quietly pulling her sword out, eyes on the ruins a few meters away. She feels her gun against her other thigh and she entertains the idea of range, but not for this. Biggs’ company was all about firepower, but Wedge emphasized stealth and adaptability, plus she’s always been faster and quieter on her feet and better with a blade in her hand. Guns were for emergencies, plus she hates how she always has to carry bullets for them.
She skirts around the trunks of trees, making no sound save for the almost silent pat of her boots on the roots – deliberately avoiding stepping on the ground, rife with fallen branches – and the pounding of her heart in her hears. Her fingers begin to sweat and she allows herself to grin. The adrenaline was her favorite part.
Morrigan manages to reach the outer grounds of the ruins, where the stone replaces earth, and littered across the ground were crags and rubble. She presses herself against the trunk of the nearest tree, eyeing the open spaces and the blind spots. The sun was still up, that she knew, but it was getting darker and the afternoon light painted everything an eerie amber glow. Everything was quiet – not even the clicks of a passing flock could be heard. Like she was the only one alive.
Hm. Everything was still clear, but it couldn’t hurt to be cautious. Feeling behind her for the radio, she presses it against her mouth and opens a frequency.
Only for her to hear nothing but static.
Frowning, she turns to another frequency and gets nothing but the same static. Hm. It had been working this morning, that she was sure of. Restarting it only to hear the same crackling sound that meant she was out of signal coverage – pretty damn convenient. Useless.
Slipping it back into the holster, Morrigan turns and decides to make for camp early, not caring if she’s going to get an earful from the next guy on duty complaining. She steps back down to the grass and—
There’s the dragging sound again. Clearer. Closer.
The hair on the back of her neck stands on end as she turns to the ruins, hears the sound echoing from within.
Could be an animal, you know. She’d like to think that. Well, one way to find out.
Gripping the sword even tighter, she makes sure to avoid the boulders and slowed her pace as she walks next to the walls of the ruins, eyes taking in the gibberish carved into it – some ancient language, obviously. Again – part of the job means seeing a lot of weird shit like the Disc turning into a lake or the Taelpar Crag turning into a river.
She cuts a corner and stills herself, listening. The sound had long faded, but nothing that created that sound could disappear without leaving a trace. She tips her sword out of the corner, waiting for something to respond to the movement. It was getting more difficult to see, the shadows growing thicker by the passing second. Nothing.
She peeks her head out and sees nothing else, except for a dilapidated looking room – bare and walled, more stones and rubble and the marks and patches of vegetation growing in the corners. There might even be a broken statue’s arm in there, somewhere, if she cares to look.
Huh.
Weird. What could have made that sound?
She steps into the open, sword bared before her, and her other hand gripping the pistol. She slowly makes her way forward, eyes unflinchingly staring into the shadows. The other end wasn’t that far, a few steps more and she was already halfway into the hall or whatever this used to be. There really was nothing.
She turns her eyes to the other side – there was nowhere else for whatever made the sound to go. It was a completely walled off room and she was standing by where it would have needed to go to leave or enter. Something wasn’t right.
She pick up her radio, and tries to open another frequency. No sound comes and she stares – befuddled – as she takes in the blank radio screen. She sees the ON button pressed and, frowning, tries to restart it. The blank screen remains the same. The radio was dead.
Fuck. Something wasn’t right. Gooseflesh ran up her arms. The radio battery was barely even halfway to draining just a few minutes ago, she was damn sure of it.
She puts it away, turning around to face the open, the pounding of her heart in her ears intensifying as the shadows had grown even darker – but wait, the sun was still up—?
She decides to go back to camp, fuck it all, pistol in her hand with the safety off. She stills – her hands icy – as the dragging sound returns – stronger and closer.
Right behind her.
The darkness that had creeped into the room was pitch black, and the clang echoed from within. She was frozen to the spot as a chill ran up her spine, all her instincts telling her to run. Whatever was in there – whatever was hiding in the shadows – it was not frenzied beast. She hadn’t felt something this…cold and chilling in a long while. Since…since the Long Night.
Her eyes widened, lips parting, as the thought takes root.
No.
No.
Impossible.
It’s been nine years.
It couldn’t be.
She hasn’t seen one since the sun came up.
The clang – the echo – grows closer, the warning bells resounding in her head but she can’t make her legs move—
Out of the darkness, in the fading light, something humanoid reaches out and it’s—
—her mind is nothing but a roaring white as terror seizes her.
She screams.
She screams and she slashes at it with her sword.
She can’t—
The image is burned into her eyes—
The silver gleam of the blade cuts at nothing but shadows, the visage dissipating—
Finally, her legs fucking move and she runs back, eyes on the golden light of the sky – the sun is still fucking up –
But, no, impossible, please no—
Those things in the shadows between the trees, the slithering darkness that was alive and looking at her, and they were everywhere, no place to run or go—
The pitch black eyes staring at her from the corner of the wall where she had been a while ago—
Run, run, run, run. Her mind screamed at her—
All her instincts were flashing red—
Danger. That was what was fueling her blood.
Her scream is cut short as something grabs her by the neck and pulls her back into the darkness—
She feels—
Nothing but pure fear.
Darkness drowns her.