Margaret waited for him, silent. Her usual garments set aside, she wore a comfortable black dress. Giovanni followed custom in a secondhand suit, its stitching so patched it had almost as much new thread as old.
Michel was absent — a cruel choice, perhaps. Giovanni had told only those necessary about his condition, unwilling to cause anxiety after such a celebration. The silence finally broke with the woman's tears.
"Do you know what they told me when I took on my role here?"
She murmured, retying Giovanni's crooked tie.
"That living surrounded by children, teaching and raising them, was both a burden and a curse."From her bag, she pulled out a dark hat adorned with a shimmering golden ribbon.
"You see them sprout as buds, gleaming, vibrating with potential. They are chaotic, spoiled, insecure, joyful. Every single one of them needs a special kind of attention, care tailored to their peculiarities. Experience teaches you to prune rotten branches, to prevent bad habits, violent or selfish behaviors. All so that one day, they may bloom."
She gently placed the hat atop his chestnut hair, completing his appearance. He looked like a boy ready to travel and explore the world beyond. In this particular case, other worlds.
"But this world is poisoned soil. Year after year, I raised each of you in my garden, only to watch you wither once I released you into the forest outside, your colorful petals drained of their hue."
Giovanni remained silent, pale. He was afraid to blink, his eyelids unbearably heavy. Three days without sleep. Three days knowing that a single slip, the briefest nap, would cost him dearly.
"If this is the last time…"
Before she could finish the sentence, Giovanni firmly grasped her hands. He did not want to hear that. Anything but talk of a "last time," even if he himself believed the chances of returning were slim.
"Sister Margaret, what are you talking about? Do you think this orphanage will sweep itself? I'm just going to spend some time with Officer Omar, you senile old lady."
Normally, such audacity would earn him a barrage of broom strikes, but all she managed was laughter mixed with sobs. He really had inherited her temperament.
"Then promise me you'll come back. Promise me I'll see you walking back through that door, you insolent brat!"
He felt dishonest doing so. How terrible it was to promise something beyond his control, a hollow declaration meant only to brighten a dark moment. His eyes closed. For an instant, darkness tempted him with rest, but they opened again, serious, burning with a rare feeling. Determination.
"I promise. And to celebrate, I'll make Officer Omar empty his pockets and take us to some restaurant."
She scoffed, turning away to hide her expression, and walked back into the chapel without looking back. Her final words sounded like an ordinary mother's warning.
"I'll keep a candle lit for you, so follow the light. Come back soon, or I'll lock you out, boy."
From afar, he saw that same candle atop the altar, sparing it one last smile before leaving.
NSQC was a pleasant place, as long as one did not look at the part abandoned by the rest of humanity. A cruelty he could do nothing about except observe in silence and pray for their souls.
With clean, futuristic architecture, it was the kind of place people from the past imagined when thinking of a "dystopia." As he walked through the streets, he could not help but notice the artificial trees.
Margaret had been born long before this miserable era of the spell. Her stories about the "archaic," natural world always inspired his fertile mind. If there was anything pleasant about the first nightmare, it was the chance to experience forests, lakes, and green plains for the first time.
The police station appeared in the distance, and right in front of it, seated on a cold bench, Omar waited for Giovanni with a lit cigarette between his lips.
"I thought you'd quit smoking, sir."
The middle-aged man scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. Lost in thought, he had not even noticed the boy approaching.
"I might have told a small lie… Margaret wouldn't take no for an answer, but my addiction was just as strong. If it comforts you, they don't have any effect on me anymore. If something kills me, it won't be my lungs."
He extinguished the cigarette and tossed it into a nearby trash bin, giving the exhausted boy a long look.
"And to think I was saying you would do office work. Follow me, let's prepare things inside."
The procedure proceeded in a far more casual and relaxed manner. Giovanni had arrived relatively early. He could still hold on easily until he was fully immobilized, and Omar was no stranger.
That did not make the realization any less morbid. Here, his mentor was also his reaper.
Normally, several armed officers would be surrounding the room, but with a Master present, they were little more than decoration. Omar tapped his foot nervously, staring at Giovanni's body, which was completely restrained in firm bindings.
"You look more worried than I am, sir… Relax. I really need a nap. It'll do wonders for my skin."
Omar took a deep breath and straightened his posture, pushing away unnecessary emotions."We've already discussed the basics, but it's good to remember. In the spell's trial, nothing is real. People, places, monsters, it's all one great fantastical bubble. The only thing that matters there is your life. Kill whatever is necessary. Understood?"
"Understood… but the only things I've ever killed at home were rats and cockroaches… There was a scorpion too. Don't expect much from me."
He did not want to kill anyone, even inside a nightmare. The descriptions had always been realistic, vivid. It was hard to dismiss them as mere puppets controlled by the spell.
"When you enter, check your aspect and attributes as quickly as possible. There's a high chance it'll be combat-related, and if it's not, don't panic. Even peculiar powers should have some use in whatever challenge is created."
Half-asleep already, words and images blurred together. His thoughts lost their logical thread, turning into fragments of intent. He looked at Omar one last time and smiled gently. The man smiled back and murmured, lowering his gaze.
"Good night, boy."
Deep in his mind, only the candlelight remained, shining in the darkness. He had promised. Then everything went dark.
[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your first trial…]
He dreamed of a desert. Its vastness made it seem infinite, devoid of life or color beyond the blinding white of the sand. Its dunes rose higher than buildings, the wind howling with devastating force, creating storms capable of sweeping entire cities from the horizon. The heat was more than unpleasant. It was a natural torture.
He stood frozen, absorbing the infernal sight where his judgment would take place. For a second, the thought of simply lying down and waiting for death haunted him, but it vanished as quickly as it came. It was far worse than he had imagined. He had no equipment, nor had he taken the place of anyone in some respectable role.
His entire body burned, cooking under the temperature of a desolate land, a cemetery of all life. When he had fantasized about experiencing the world beyond, he never imagined it would be so literal. It was almost comical, considering that outside the great city, only desert, mud, and snow covered dead regions.
'Breathe… calm down. Everything depends on what you gained. I can still make this work.'
He quickly thought of the word "Status," and like a magic trick, runes manifested before his eyes. He pitied the first people subjected to this, because the last thing one would think of when transported to hell would be checking stats like in a video game.
***
Name: Giovanni
True Name: –
Rank: Aspirant
Soul Core: Dormant
Memories: –
Echoes: –
Attributes: [Guided by the Light], [Acolyte], [Miracle Bearer]
Aspect: [Pilgrim]
Aspect Description: [One who walks the path toward the sacred. The land transforms him from within, just as he shapes it.]
Among the many things a person lost in the desert, that was far from the worst. In fact, it was incredible. Hope filled him once more, and he wasted no time reading the remaining descriptions.
[Acolyte] Attribute Description: "The fervor of faith manifests in your body. Positive effects are greatly amplified."
The first attribute was the clearest. It seemed to enhance the potency of positive buffs of all kinds. Its usefulness was questionable for the moment, since his aspect did not appear focused on healing or enhancement at first glance.
'This should also work when someone tries to take care of me…'
[Miracle Bearer] Attribute Description: "The burden of miracles is conceived in the golden boy, but fulfilled only through light."
The second was an enigma. Miracles were positive things, but the way this manifested was entirely vague. Still, it brought a sense of calm to his heart.
Only one attribute remained, and it seemed to be the most important of all.
[Guided by the Light] Attribute Description: "The light awaits its pilgrim. Hear its call."
A faint smile formed on his lips, but no words were spoken. With a basic idea of his initial "arsenal," he paid closer attention to his surroundings and, most importantly, to himself.
A trail of footprints was slowly being erased by the winds, but it was undoubtedly his doing, or at least that of whoever inhabited this body.
His body was covered head to toe in thick, pale fabric. He was much taller than in the real world, just as thin, and far more miserable. He had no basic items such as a canteen or a backpack, the perfect depiction of an exiled man carrying nothing but the clothes on his body.
It only raised the question of what, exactly, he had come there to do. Perhaps there had been no alternative but to cross a desert with no time to prepare, or perhaps he was simply seeking a slow and brutal death. Either way, Giovanni was left to experience the consequences of that journey.
It was not only the heat he felt, but hunger and thirst as well.
At first, he had not noticed, too immersed in the fantastical event. But now the pain of an empty stomach and the difficulty of breathing hot air through a dry throat became his new reality.
Giovanni had never known hunger or thirst. Margaret had made sure from early on that he grew up with the comfort and basic needs every human deserved. Experiencing them for the first time was terrifying.
He fell to his knees, pressing a hand against his stomach, holding back tears so as not to waste a single drop of water by crying. He could not stop there. If he did not find shelter from the sun, he would be cooked alive.
It took a colossal effort to take the first step, but each one after became easier.
'One step at a time, Giovanni…'
And forward, he went.