Chrysalis

By the System it hurt. It had ever since he’d lost it in that one moment, where the shining picture he had painted of himself had been ripped away along with his limb. Even now, several days later, Beyn was at a loss to explain exactly what had occurred at that time.

The fear that had gripped his heart, when that monster had burst into the middle of his sermon, he could recall it perfectly even now. When the beast had remained so still, so accepting, that fear had been replaced with wonder. It was as if the holy System had been speaking to him directly, offering itself to him, asking that he accept the fruits of its blessed creations!

What joy! What reverence! In that moment Beyn had felt as if he had touched the foot of God!

The surging emotions that had blazed in his heart as he had brought the church screptum down on the head of the offering had been so powerful he almost shook now just recalling it.

He had been so wrong.

His visions of a grand destiny, of being a prophet of the system had been torn away as that terrifying monster had darted forth, so quickly he couldn’t even see it, and brought those serrated jaws down on his arm, shearing it away with ease.

Since that moment he had barely spoken, the haunting zeal in eyes had intimidated the townspeople to the point they couldn’t meet his glare. They had taken him to the apothecary for treatment and left him there, speaking softly as they passed by his door. To be honest he needed no physical healing. The spell performed on him by the godless monster had closed the wound. To do better would require a powerful specialist in the healing arts to regenerate his arm.

Even in his dazed state, laying in his bed, Beyn was able to pick up bits and pieces of information from the nervous conversations he overheard.

There was trouble at the capital, fighting in the streets. People had been fleeing the city until the gates had been barred. The Queen was dead. The Queen was alive. It was a coup, it was an invasion, it was the Dungeon rising for a second cataclysm.

On the second day he heard that the town council had called a meeting to discuss the crises.

system, his god, was stirring, he could feel it. He must be a part of the events to come, and he would be! Casting off his blankets,

turned their eyes away, doffing their cap or offering a brief curtsy before moving out of his path. They could not bare

sweeping open the door with

town’s dignitaries huddled around the desk of a beleaguered fat man, the

mayors eyes brightened when he saw

This is cause for celebration, we should delay this meeting until after we have

into hands. The owner of the market, Mrs Ruther, attempted to protest the suspension of discussion but to no avail, the mayor

of his responsibilities and drink. A few more years of soaking and his family wealth may just run dry, with the

is for the purpose of conversing

quivering intensity in his voice was unnerving enough

you sure you would not rather rest father Beyn? You do not appear to have even had a chance to change your robes" the mayor spluttered in a feeble attempt

with the blood I have shed

his hands and shaking them in protest. "I

may" at this Beyn took a vacant chair and gestured towards Mrs Ruther, "I would be grateful to you Mrs Ruther if you would appraise me of

matron took a moment to gather her dignity before replying. "They haven’t father. We’ve not seen so

flicking her eyes away, as if scalded by the fire

that is to say is the disturbance in the capital. We haven’t had a reliable message out of there all day. Fighting in the streets, the soldiers setting fire to the merchant district, blood on the steps of the castle. It sounds dreadful. The people are too

good hand Beyn gripped his chair so hard his

than the agents of the Dungeon rising from beneath our very feet?" more than