Chapter Text
It's raining; the sky is covered by black and gloomy clouds. Everything feels sad and unnerving, people running all over the place, screaming as they hurl themselves onto the ship. Amidst the chaos, two dolls are tucked away inside a room side by side, seemingly holding hands with their frail sewed arms. This moment is short-lived when the floor starts to glow green and slowly rip apart, the screaming getting louder as if they were being mauled by a fierce beast. The dolls begin to sway left and right; down comes the man as he falls through the gaping hole of green darkness, leaving the woman alone on the shelf.
Sometime after the screaming stops, they start walking, black abominations crawl amongst the ship floors. The ship suddenly stops and immediately begins swirling through a spiral, ripping the boat apart. Wood, flags, and other valuable things, alongside the woman doll, fall through the green-tinted waters. Everything is torn apart by the people turned into Wraiths of pure agony. Their humanity is taken from them, only relying upon one mind in this hive of pure destruction.
The doll begins sinking into the depths of the waters, expecting the worst, but suddenly… a faint blue light is heading towards her, constantly being bombarded by the black mist preventing it from reaching the doll. Its movement is slowly losing strength to fro, Gwen drops into the deep ground near a rock. The blue spirit keeps pushing until… boom! A hit, and another! Its colour begins flickering like it's holding its last breath. Nevertheless, it keeps pushing slowly towards the doll. Inch by inch, as it gets closer, the flickering turns into a slow fade into nothingness; its movement turns into a near stop as it gets an inch close to the doll. It's so close, but it disappears… Suddenly a burst of blue light illuminates the ocean floor; the doll grows. Her head strikes the rock, leaving the girl unconscious, and flows of blue mist cover her as she slowly floats to the top.
She was flushed onto the beach, resting near scissors conveniently. Trails of black mist followed her and began absorbing the blue figure that had saved her. A man slowly walked near the body; he was there at the beach before the woman was beached there. He absorbed the black mist, turning it into a scythe and connecting it to his lantern. The man was confused by this woman, but he left her alone on the beach, thinking the amalgamation of spirits would kill her.
Moments later, the woman woke up, pushing herself up. She had trouble standing straight but eventually stabilized herself. The first thing she examined was in her hands and then her surroundings. She found a lonely pair of scissors on the ground, picked it up, and it suddenly grew. She dropped it and touched it again, wondering what it was. She noticed that she was wearing a dress, finely woven. The woman twirled, looking at herself quite curious. She opened her mouth and took a deep breath because she was breathing with her nose and said, "Who… am I?" in a hushed voice.
Gwen looked around, taking in her surroundings. She was on a deserted beach with no sign of civilization in sight. The sea stretched out in front of her, the waves crashing gently against the shore. She had no memory of how she got here, or even who she was.
As she tried to recall any details about herself, a sudden gust of wind brought the scent of decay to her nose. It was then that she noticed the land beyond the beach. It was a dark and foreboding place, with twisted trees and murky mist obscuring any further details. Gwen couldn't help but feel drawn toward it, as if some part of her knew that she needed to go there.
Without any other leads to follow, Gwen ventured into the Shadow Isles. As she walked, she began to notice strange things happening around her. Shadows seemed to come alive, moving in ways that defied explanation. Flowers and plants would wither and die as she approached, only to come back to life once she passed.
Despite the eerie atmosphere, Gwen sensed a strange familiarity in this place. She knew something important awaited her, if only she could discern what it was. Determined, she pressed on to unravel the secrets of the Shadow Isles and, hopefully, uncover answers about herself.
As Gwen walked, a sense of unease enveloped her. The Hallowed Mist clung to her like a shroud, making her feel as though she were constantly being observed—a feeling she couldn't shake, no matter her efforts.
Nevertheless, driven by curiosity and a desire to understand her place in the world, she pressed forward. She had countless questions and uncertainties, realizing that the only way to find answers was to keep moving.
Walking through the twisted paths of the Shadow Isles, Gwen pondered the mysterious powers she had discovered. How had she come to possess them? And what did they reveal about her true nature?
In the withering fields, she felt the unseen eyes of Thresh upon her. Though she couldn't see him, she sensed his malevolent presence lurking in the shadows.
Thresh, always curious about newcomers to the Shadow Isles, especially those with an aura of pure light like Gwen, watched from a distance. He knew to be cautious, as such visitors often proved the most dangerous.
Slinking closer, his scythe dragging behind him, Thresh hissed, "You look lonely," his voice dripping with malice.
Gwen spun around, scissors at the ready. She couldn't see him but felt the icy touch of his breath on her neck. "Who are you?" she demanded.
Thresh chuckled. "I am the Warden, but the spirits call me Thresh," his voice oozing false charm. "And you, my dear, are a mystery."
Gwen tightened her grip on her scissors, ready to defend herself. "I don't know who I am," she said, "but I know I don't trust you."
Thresh's grin widened. "Oh, I wouldn't expect you to," he said. "But perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement?"
Eyeing him warily, Gwen asked, "What kind of arrangement?"
Thresh took a step closer, his lantern glowing ominously. "I can help you find out who you are," he said. "But in return, you must do something for me."
Gwen hesitated. Dealing with Thresh was dangerous, yet she needed answers. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.
Thresh's eyes gleamed with excitement. "There is a certain soul that I seek," he said. "If you can retrieve it for me, I will tell you everything you wish to know."
Gwen considered his offer. She didn't know who she was or what her purpose was, but she knew that she had to start somewhere. "Alright," she said. "I'll do it. But I warn you, if you betray me, I won't hesitate to use these." She brandished her scissors menacingly.
Thresh cackled, the sound echoing through the desolate landscape. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," he said. "After all, we have an arrangement, don't we?"
Gwen followed Thresh through the twisted, gnarled trees that lined the path. She felt a sense of unease in the shadowy forest as if something was watching her from the darkness.
Thresh explained more about the shadow isles and their inhabitants as they walked. "Most who come to this place are seeking something," he said. "Power, knowledge, revenge...but they rarely find what they're looking for."
Gwen nodded, taking in the information. She didn't know what she was seeking, but she hoped that this journey would help her find some answers.
Suddenly, Thresh stopped in his tracks. Gwen looked up to see what had caught his attention and saw a figure in the distance. It was humanoid, but its body was covered in a thick, black mist.
Thresh grinned wickedly. "Ah, perfect timing," he said. "We have a visitor."
Gwen gripped her scissors tightly, unsure of what was happening. "Who is it?" she asked.
Thresh chuckled. "You'll see," he said and led her closer to the figure. As they approached, Gwen could see that it was a man, or at least it appeared to be. His form was hazy and indistinct, and he seemed to be hovering above the ground.
The man turned to face them, and Gwen gasped. His face was twisted in a grotesque grin, and his eyes glowed with an unnatural light.
"Welcome to the shadow isles," he said, his voice a low, ominous growl.
Gwen felt a shiver run down her spine as she looked at the man. She could feel his malevolence radiating off of him like a palpable force.
Thresh stepped forward, his chains clanking ominously. "What brings you here, spectre?" he asked.
The man chuckled darkly. "I have been watching you, Thresh," he said. "And I must say, I am intrigued by your new companion."
Gwen stepped forward, feeling a surge of anger. "I am not anyone's companion," she said. "I am with myself."
The man's grin widened. "Ah, a fiery one, I see," he said. "But tell me, girl, what do you hope to gain from your journey through the shadow isles?"
Gwen hesitated, unsure of how to answer. She didn't even know who she was or what she was searching for, let alone what she hoped to gain from this journey.
Thresh stepped in front of her, his chains at the ready. "That is none of your concern, spectre," he said. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a business to attend to."
The man's eyes glinted dangerously. "Oh, I'm afraid I can't let you leave just yet," he said. "You see, I have a proposition for you, Thresh. And I think you'll find it...quite interesting." The spectre floated closer, its eyes fixated on Gwen. "She looks so...delicious, why not eat her?" it said, its voice dripping with hunger.
Thresh scowled. "She's off-limits," he growled. "She's under my protection."
The spectre hissed, its misty form quivering with anger. "You're no fun, Thresh," it said. "I was hoping we could share."
Gwen shuddered, feeling a chill run down her spine. She gripped her scissors tightly, ready to defend herself if necessary.
Thresh stepped forward, his chain flailing behind him. "She is not food," he said, his voice cold and menacing. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we have important business to attend to."
The spectre growled in frustration but eventually dissipated into the mist. Thresh turned to Gwen, a small smile on his lips. "Don't worry about him," he said. "He's always hungry. But he knows better than to cross eyes me."
"And what makes of me?"
"Silly little Seamstress, I treat my guests rather… Nicely, I suppose." Thresh said whilst seizing a small grin.
Gwen nodded, still feeling uneasy. She wondered how many other creatures lurked in the shadow isles, waiting to prey on unsuspecting victims.
Thresh continued to lead her deeper into the forest, his chain rattling ominously. Gwen tried to focus on the task at hand, but her mind kept drifting back to the spectre and its hunger. She wondered how long she would be able to survive in this place, surrounded by danger at every turn.
As they walked, Thresh seemed to sense her unease. "Don't worry, little one," he said. "You're safe with me. As long as you're useful, that is."
Gwen clenched her fists. She didn't like the way Thresh spoke about her like she was some sort of tool to be used and discarded. But she knew she needed him to survive in this place.
They walked in silence for a while longer until Thresh suddenly stopped in front of a large tower. It was old and decrepit, and vines crawled up its walls. "This is my home," he said, a note of pride in his voice.
Gwen looked at the tower warily. "What happened here?" she asked.
Thresh's expression turned grim. "This is where I died," he said. "My chains are bound to this place, so I can never leave the shadow isles."
Gwen shuddered at the thought. She couldn't imagine being trapped in this place forever. "What's inside?" she asked.
Thresh led her inside the tower, and Gwen was surprised to find that it was much larger than it appeared outside. The walls were lined with shelves and tables, and strange, glowing orbs floated in the air. It was like nothing she had ever seen before.
"Welcome to my workshop," Thresh said, grinning. "This is where I come to work on my...projects."
Gwen looked around in awe, taking in the sights and sounds of the workshop. She couldn't help but wonder what sort of dark magic Thresh was capable of in this place.
Meanwhile, two days before Gwen's arrival on the shore, the male doll that had been holding hands with her was also beached on the same shore. The black mists that had been surrounding him slowly drifted closer, almost as if examining him.
As the mists crept closer, something strange began to happen. Paramour, the male doll, felt an odd sensation deep within himself. It was like a stirring, a pulling towards something that he couldn't quite identify. The sensation was so strong that he almost felt as if he was being controlled by it.
The mists enveloped him, suffocating him, but at the same time, he felt a strange energy coursing through his body. Suddenly, a burst of blue light illuminated the area, and the mists were pushed back, yet some were absorbed into him.
As the light faded, Paramour realised something was different. He was no longer a doll, but a human. The memories of being a doll and memories of Gwen flooded Paramour's mind as he was transformed into a human by the hallowed mist. As he stood up, he noticed his attire had changed, from his sword and fancy threads to his mask. He felt an urge to find her, to be reunited with her. She was nowhere to be seen.
Paramour's mind was racing. He remembered everything about his life as a doll, but being human was a completely new experience. He looked around and saw the desolate beach, the black mists still lingering in the air. He couldn't stay here, not when his thoughts were consumed with finding Gwen.
Without knowing where to start, he began walking, his new human legs shaky at first, but growing stronger with each step. He walked for what felt like hours, his thoughts never straying far from the girl he longed to find. The Black Mist that had consumed him before still followed him, but now it seemed to be urging him forward, pushing him towards a destination that he couldn't see.
As he walked, he came across a town that was deserted, abandoned by the living due to the dangers of the Black Mist. Yet he felt an inexplicable draw towards it. He walked into the town, searching for any sign of Gwen, but found none.
As the night fell, he saw a glimmering light coming from a large tower on the outskirts of the town. The light was like a beacon, drawing him towards it. He felt that this was where he needed to go, where he might find answers.
He approached the tower, but as he got closer, he felt a chill run down his spine. This tower was unlike any other he had seen, and it felt ominous like something evil was inside. But he pushed his fears aside and continued, driven by the urge to find Gwen.
As he entered the tower, he was immediately engulfed by darkness. The only source of light was a faint glow coming from a spiral staircase leading upwards. He cautiously climbed the stairs, his heart beating faster with each step.
When he reached the top, he found himself in a large room with a single figure standing in the centre. It was Thresh, the cursed warden of the tower. Paramour knew that Thresh was a dangerous being, but he couldn't ignore the feeling that he might have some answers about Gwen.
Thresh turned to face him, his glowing green eyes piercing through the darkness. "Well, well, well," Thresh said, his voice deep and menacing. "What do we have here? A lost soul, searching for something?"
Paramour hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. Thresh continued to speak, his tone mocking. "Ah, I see. You're looking for the girl. The one who got away," Thresh said, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Well, she's not here, if that's what you're hoping for."
Paramour felt a surge of anger at Thresh's words. He knew the warden was lying, but he couldn't understand why. "I don't believe you," he spat.
Thresh's grin widened. "Believe what you will, little man. But if you want to find her, you'll have to go through me first." He pulled his chains, and his scythe glinted in the dim light.
Paramour's heart pounded in his chest. He had never been in a fight before, but he knew he couldn't back down. He raised his sword, preparing for the battle ahead.
Thresh lunged forward, his scythe whistling through the air. Paramour sidestepped and swung his sword, but Thresh deftly dodged the blow. The two circled each other, Thresh's chains rattling ominously.
Paramour could feel the black mist thickening around them, almost as if it was cheering Thresh on. But he refused to be intimidated. He charged forward, his sword clashing against Thresh's scythe.
The two weapons rang out in a deafening clash, each strike sending sparks flying. Paramour was surprised by how well he was doing, but he knew he couldn't let his guard down for even a moment. Thresh was too skilled, too dangerous.
Their fight continued, each exchange more intense than the last. But just as Paramour thought he had the upper hand, Thresh suddenly disarmed him with a quick flick of his wrist. The sword clattered to the ground, and Paramour stumbled backwards.
Thresh laughed, his chains clinking together. "It looks like this is the end for you, little man. Any last words?"
Paramour felt fear creeping into his heart, but he refused to give up. He looked around, searching for anything he could use as a weapon. His eyes landed on a nearby pile of rubble, and he darted towards it, hoping to find something useful.
Thresh lunged forward, but Paramour ducked under his scythe and grabbed a large rock from the rubble. He swung it with all his might, smashing it into Thresh's head
Thresh staggered back, stunned by the blow. Paramour seized the opportunity and charged forward, tackling the warden to the ground. He grabbed Thresh's scythe and raised it high above his head.
“I was never a fighter.” Thresh groans and then chuckles at his face.
“I don’t know who you are, but I need to kill you.” As Paramour prepared to strike, Thresh let out a wicked laugh. Suddenly, the air around them shifted, and an amalgamation of Wraiths stitched together in pain appeared before them. Paramour stumbled back in shock, unsure of how to face this new threat.
Thresh took advantage of the distraction and slipped out from under Paramour's grasp. He grabbed his lantern and disappeared into the shadows, leaving the newly transformed human to face the horde of Wraiths alone.
Panicked, Paramour swung the scythe wildly, trying to fend off the Wraiths, but there were too many of them. He stumbled back, tripping over debris on the floor, and fell to the ground. The Wraiths closed in on him, their ghastly forms looming over him.
In his desperation, Paramour reached out, grasping at anything within reach. His hand closed around a small, familiar object - the hilt of his sword but it looked different. With newfound confidence, he swung the sword, its blade glinting in the darkness.
The Wraiths howled in pain as the sword sliced through them, and Paramour managed to fight his way to his feet. He continued to swing his sword, cutting through the Wraiths with ease.
As the last of the Wraiths dissipated, Paramour caught a glimpse of Thresh's lantern disappearing into the distance. He knew he had to pursue the warden, to find out what he knew about Gwen.
With his sword in hand, Paramour set off into the darkness, his determination driving him forward.