Falling!

From the clouds she fell.

Gasping for air, Dassah grasped at the clouds as if they could catch her, but her hand went straight through. She wrenched her body around to see the world below as it sped towards her. Green and blue and brown—patterns in the distance. Forests. Oceans. Fields. Cities.

Suffocating…

Stars in her vision. Stars in her mind. Thoughts blank.

Dassah panicked, clawing at her throat. Her eyes burned. The world approached at breakneck speed.

There was no air left in her lungs for her to scream.

The ocean grew bigger and bigger below. Slamming her eyes shut, she braced for impact—but impact never came.

Confused, she opened her eyes to a deep, peaceful blue. She was floating, suspended. Her skin iced over as awareness returned, and when she opened her mouth to gasp, water flooded in.

She tried to swim, but the current grasped at her ankles like the hands of the drowned, pulling her under. Deeper into the depths she sank, heart pounding in her ears. Dizziness swept over her, and glistening lights of hope from the surface blurred and faded.

She raised her hand to that light one last time, wishing, and failing, to turn it to substance.

Is this the end? she thought, then scoffed at herself. Don’t be stupid, Dassah. This is a game, and killing you in character creation would be stupid.

What she needed was to relax and let the tide carry her forward. This was only the beginning, and sometimes, a strategic retreat was the best way forward.

The panic left as she surrendered herself to the water, closing her eyes as she floated on the current.

Just as she was getting comfortable, her feet touched the ground. The water turned back to mist, and she collapsed to her knees.

Darkness returned.

Dassah lifted her hands to her face. Her cheeks were warm. Her hair was dry. Everything was how it should have been. She was alive.

See? You worried for nothing!

But it wasn’t over.

The night sky came into view. She was on a narrow cliff above an expanse of tall evergreens. An enormous, translucent tiger with the head of an owl appeared before her, a wicked grin stretched across its ghostly countenance. She froze as its face shifted.

The black squiggling monster that had come from the mist stared down at her.

“Do. You. FEAR?” roared the voice as the beast lunged at her. She shrieked and tried to protect her face as the creature’s clammy paw touched her arm—and turned to smoke.

Her surroundings changed again. Again and again—a dozen times, a dozen lives. Different scenes. Different places. And every time that face appeared, her heart leaped into her throat. Her body hurt, and her head throbbed with pressure.

Finally, left in the dark again save for a spotlight on the ground she sat on, she wept.

“What the hell is this?” she shouted into the dark. She found some rocks and threw them into the nothing. “Haven’t you gotten the information you needed? What, am I supposed to fight back or something? How am I supposed to do that when you keep literally pulling the rug out from under me before I can make sense of what’s happening!?”

Click. Click. Click.

A mighty green dragon with eyes like a cloudless summer sky appeared before her. It lowered its great head to her level and asked: “Do you wish to return?”

“Return?” she asked, tears streaming down her face.

“Indeed.”

The world twisted again, and she was in a city. The thick evening mist encroached upon them, but still, she saw that which she did not wish to see as scenes zoomed past them—then stopped.

The body of a young girl was in a hospital room, surrounded by drawings in crayons and markers. The young girl was all too thin, and she sat looking out the window into the hospital’s hall. There, a young woman with brown hair screamed into the face of a garule in a doctor’s coat. Something about the image gripped her heart and squeezed.

“No,” she gasped, though she could not explain why. The little girl sat silently, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t recognize them, yet there was a keen sense of familiarity that sent her mind into a strange hysteria.

Dassah began to claw at her own hair. “No, no, no!”

The scene flickered, and now she was standing in a crowd. A sound like a gunshot went off, but Dassah couldn’t see what was happening. Shouting began, then screaming. Panic spread like wildfire and people around her began to run.

Dassah stood in shock and morbid curiosity, only to watch in horror as a group of sharp-clawed garule broke through, rushing towards her, bathed in red and silver blood.

“Stop,” Dassah muttered. “STOP!”

The world went white. It faded back into the dimly lit mist. It wrapped around her and filled her with the presence of fate.

An unpleasant shiver ran up her spine.

Echoes surrounded her as the Fate asked her: “Who are you?”

“Isn’t this just a game?” Dassah shouted, spinning around in anger. “Why must you go so far?”

“So far, so far...So far for this hero to face their fear, but face their fear they must.”

“Why?”

“For the glory of Uldarin,” the fate said, lightly brushing Dassah’s cheek. “For the sake of the Lady and all the love she has for you.”

“The Lady?” Dassah asked.

“The Lady,” the fate affirmed. “The Goddess who watches us all. She who loves you more than anyone.”

Furrowing her brow, Dassah tried to regain some composure. This was a game, after all, and it was a game with very complex religious and political structures built in. Still, “Shouldn’t I be the one choosing what I believe?”

“What you believe matters little,” said the fate. “This world exists for you, so all this world shall embrace you.”

Ah, Dassah thought, her anger ebbing away. It's the setup of the game. The player was destined to be ‘the Hero of Uldarin,’ blessed by the universe for good or ill—but seriously, it doesn’t need to be quite so intense, does it?

“Fine,” Dassah said. “Ask your questions.”

“Who are you?”

Dassah considered for a moment, then crossed her arms. “Da—no. Guin Grey.” Habits were difficult to break.

“Guin Grey,” said the wind. “What is it you desire?”

“Power,” she answered. “I desire the power to be myself. I desire the power to be free. Free to live without fear. To make my own choices without being tied to some vague sense of what’s right and wrong. Free to go where I want and be whomever I want.”

“Ah,” it answered. “Freedom. Freedom to love. Freedom to die. Freedom to be like the wind. Like the wind, you shall travel. You shall travel from here to there, there to here, in and out, you shall go. You shall go...where shall you go? Shall you go to the sea? To the forest? To the past? To the future? To the Veil?”

“I want to go everywhere,” Dassah responded calmly. She pulled on her memories of the trial to give her desires relevant substance. “I want to go to the world's edge and the depths of the earth. I want to play with the spirits and creatures throughout the land, and speak to the powerful, knowing, and wise.”

“Oh!” said the breeze. “Oh, a complicated wish! A complicated wish to be one with this world. This world needs many kinds of people; many wish to master it and seek the glory of its riches. What riches do you seek, going everywhere? Everywhere has many, many riches.”

“Riches?” Dassah wondered out loud without thinking. “Treasure?”

The wind gave her no chance to correct herself. “Treasure! Gold! Silver! Treasure seeks the human child. Human child who is born into the world—but who shall bear the child? The child who longs for freedom and treasure?”

“Wait—” Dassah started, then bit her tongue. She hadn’t meant to answer that way. Her brain raced as she worked to regain composure. If she didn’t know the answer, perhaps the system could answer it for her: “The treasure I seek isn’t just gold and glory. I seek the greatest treasure there is in Uldarin.”

“Ah,” said it. “Seeker of treasure, seeker of power. Such desires bring strength and grant protection. They, too, summon evil and invite danger. The danger of others who hunt wealth and power; who feed off power and fear. Fear. Do you fear, child?”

“Huh?” Dassah said, blinking. “Didn’t we go through this already…?”

The darkness flickered again, and she found herself in a cavern. A silvery translucent fox, ghost-like in appearance, stood before her, a wicked look on its face.

Dassah froze, then relaxed.

The face that now stared into hers was the same, black, squiggling countenance she had seen before.

“Do. You. FEAR?” the voice came, and the fox lunged at her. Dassah stared right into the fox’s eyes as its clammy paw touched her arm—and turned to smoke.

Her surroundings changed again—but it was all nothing but tricks of smoke and light. She chuckled and sat back against the cavern wall.

“Is this all you’ve got?!” she shouted.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of soft, echoing footsteps. Expecting to see another nightmare, she prepared herself for battle. But instead of a monster or demon it was a man who appeared.

A familiar one.

Dressed in beautiful flowing white and silver robes. A pair of white fox ears were on his head, and a long, fluffy white tail flicked to and fro behind him.

Dassah flinched as he reached his hand out to her, but he chuckled and patted her on the head.

“You have done well,” the man told her, his voice gentle. “But the path you take to the gates of birth has not yet reached its end. This test has been completed, but choices remain to be made.”