Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Guide thought that things would only get better when the guardian of the underworld, The Wall of Flesh, was slain by the Player. He knew that a sacrifice had to be made in order to summon the beast of meat and eyes, and that it was for the better of Terraria.

He just didn’t think that he would be the one to be sacrificed.

Guide did get over it, though. He and the others have the ability to come back after death under a different name (names that were eventually discarded in favor of their roles to stop having everyone be confused under their new aliases), and being burned alive on the spot wasn’t actually the worst way he died before.

But it kept happening.

Player informed Guide that they needed the Warrior Emblem, an emblem that could only be dropped by the Wall of Flesh. They were a melee fighter and needed that boost as the spirits of light and dark proved to be far more unforgiving than they could take.

The Guide, while not happy with the idea of being burned alive again, gave the Player approval to keep farming the boss. And the Player was kind enough to let the Guide know when they were about to summon the Wall of Flesh, so the Guide could mentally prepare himself for the inevitable death.

But the Player was unlucky, only getting Ranger, Sorcerer and Summoner Emblems. As more voodoo dolls were tossed into lava, the Guide grew accustomed to being reduced to ashes. But everytime it did happen, the pain of having your flesh collapse on the spot from molten lava only grew larger.

But it was one particular time where the Guide had a recollection during his death before he respawned to another bright morning. After he succumbed to the flames once more, he suddenly saw himself staring sideways directly at the Player, towering over them. He was surrounded by obsidian towers and molten lava below, but couldn’t have the chance to observe his surroundings for long until the Player started attacking him with their blade.

Guide was furious at first. Why were they attacking him?! It was rude to equip the voodoo doll and strike him like that! Do they not know that it’s not a lighthearted prank?! He went to scold them.

But all he could let out was a horrific roar instead of anything resembling speech. That was when Guide realized that he couldn’t actually control how he moved, or felt his limbs. He was chasing the player, who was running from him at the bridge. Then he noticed that sickening, fleshy mouths were coming out of his body, trying to bite the player until they were stung to death by the throwing of beenades.

And the Guide felt all of that pain. He felt an uncontrollable drive for blood, and was rushing at the Player. Guide wanted to stop, but he still couldn’t control himself. What kind of hell was he subject to? What did he do to deserve this? Was it because he accidentally shot a bunny, or upset the Dryad over an argument related to the corruption?

He could only see red as he grew desperate to both stop and devour the Player. But this would eventually come to an end when the Player dashed forward with the Shield of Cthulhu and struck the Guide right in his eye, causing everything to go black.

And without warning, the Guide found himself awoken, facing his designated house. As if it were all a bad dream. “What in the blazes was that…?” Guide asked himself as he rubbed his head, walking back to his home.

But then he noticed something wrong with the arm he used to rub it: it was becoming pinkish, its veins were larger, and his nails were black.

Panicking, the Guide decided that he’d go check on the Nurse instead to inspect his arm. He thought that he somehow became infected as he was asleep, maybe by some invasive Eater of Souls or a bunny with rabies.

But it felt like too much of a coincidence to have this sudden change right after that dream…

Chapter Text

"The Order of the Guide shall prepare the Player to fight the great evils of Terraria. When the time comes for a sacrifice to the great evil in the Underworld, the current Guide must be ready for the permanent sacrifice."

Those words repeated in the Guide's head as the Nurse examined his body. He did not understand what his council meant by a "permanent sacrifice" to this day. He was still here despite being slain for the sake of the Wall of Flesh, and that one time he accidentally opened the door to a horde of zombies.

Was it all a lie that he'd be gone for good? That's what he thought would happen the first time, but here he came back just as all the other NPCs did.

"I'm not sure what this is, Guide." Nurse told him. "It's like you're infected with the Crimson the way your arm looks… fleshy."

"I have not gone anywhere near the Crimson." Guide told her. "I swear I've always been at home."

“Oooh, is this a new awakening?” the Zoologist asked, next to the Nurse. “You could like, totally transform into a demon or something.”

“Don’t joke about that!” Guide yelled at her. But he couldn’t shake up the fact that he did experience something similar to a transformation during his “dream”... “And where is the Player?!”

“Right, the Player wanted me to tell you they recently discovered the Shimmer, which transmuted their Emblem into the one they wanted.” Nurse replied mildly, taking out a bandage roll and beginning to wrap his arm.

“They could have just done that the whole time…?” The Guide wanted to lash out from all the pain they had to endure from each fiery death, but this could also mean the pain was over. So, he just breathed heavily, waiting for the Nurse to finish her job.

“That will be 50 silver.” Nurse said.

“...50 silver?! But you didn’t patch me up like you did the Player!” Guide complained.

“Believe me, I’ve tried. All of my antibiotics haven’t wiped out that pulsating arm of yours.” Nurse told him. “And I doubt you’re interested in a surgical removal.”

“Fair…” The Guide coughed up the silver. He would have to shoot down many more slimes to pay off the Tax Collector’s debt…

And that’s what he did. Target practice with the common green slimes. When he saw one approaching him, he took out his bow and ignited his arrows. He didn’t care that his good arm was damaged and covered in bandages, he could still grip his hand on the bow string.

Reeling in his bow, he…

SNAP!

The Guide looked back at his bow. He pulled back so hard, the whole thing split into two! “What the-?! Oh, great! So much for sturdy wood!” He had to flee from the incoming slime after that, slamming the door shut to get a breather.

Looking around, he spotted a chest. “Maybe the Player has a spare bow… They strictly said they were ‘going Melee’; they won’t miss it.” Guide followed by opening the chest and burrowing through it.

“A clockwork rifle… I don’t know how to use a gun.” Guide put down the gun. “A steel whip… That weird picture of my face… Aha!” He pulled out a Molten Fury. “Now THIS is a sturdy bow…”

When the Guide looked at the wall, he saw a Wall of Flesh trophy, making his eyes flash the dream he had once more. It almost felt like his tongue was ripped out and was being displayed.

He snapped out of it as fast as he could. “That… isn’t my tongue. I’m not a wreathing pile of flesh…” The Guide checked his arm again, realizing that maybe his bow broke because of the sudden strength of his rotten arm. “Okay, calm down Guide…” he tried assuring himself. “Just as long as I’m not sacrificed anymore, I’m sure everything will be alright…”

As the days went by, the Guide was left unharmed by the Player, who didn’t find a need to go back into the Underworld. The mechanical bosses were slain, more NPCs joined the several towns scattered across Terraria, and all was going well for the Player.

The Guide, however, could not get over his swollen arm. Purification powder only stung more than it did help, and it seemed like it was only getting worse for him. Symptoms began surfacing, making him forced to hide from the public eye in fear of being seen as a demon or worse.

For starters, when does an arm grow an extra tooth?