Shadow Slave

Sunny held his breath, affected by the disturbing scene in front of him.

The corpse was kneeling on the floor of the small cell, its hand chained to the floor. There was a circle carved into the stone around it, with countless symbols that Sunny could not understand surrounding it.

However, the circle was broken. In the thousands of years since the fall of the Dark City, the floor of the dungeon cell had cracked, with several fractures running straight through the intricate engraving.

Whatever it was the circle was meant to contain had either perished or escaped a long time ago.

Now, the only thing that remained was a withered corpse.

Coming closer, Sunny took another look at the person who had been imprisoned and died under the ruined cathedral, in a cell situated exactly beneath the statue of the nameless goddess.

Because of the dark mantle and the black lacquered mask, Sunny couldn't glean a lot of information about the corpse. It seemed to belong to a human, but other than that, everything about it was a mystery.

What terrible sin had this person committed to be condemned to this awful death?

Strangely, Sunny's intuition was silent. It was as though there was nothing in front of him at all. To his sixth sense, the prisoner of the underground cell appeared as an empty space.

'...Weird. This person had clearly been either hated or feared a lot to be locked behind all these barriers. Surely, finding such a creature would affect my fate… why don't I feel anything, then?'

With a tense frown, he took a deep breath and carefully stepped inside the circle.

…It was then that Sunny noticed a chaotic mess of runes drawn on the floor near the prisoner's left hand. The sight of them almost sent him into a seizure.

Staggering away, Sunny fell to his knees and threw up.

'Agh… damn it!'

were the same runes the Spell used to describe the mysterious Unknown. Only here, the intensity of the

'What the hell?'

his mouth, Sunny grimaced and glanced at the

himself off the floor, took a deep

splitting headache and a sickening, terrible sensation spreading through his mind. It was as though all his thoughts and memories were being torn and twisted. But despite

runes — he didn't know that particular language, and the Spell either was forbidden, incapable, or refused to translate them. But for some reason, Sunny felt compelled to

pain, he slowly studied the strange runes.

the script he was familiar with — the usual runic

Luckily, Sunny had studied these runes and knew enough about them

last thing the person imprisoned under the cathedral wrote before succumbing to

the stone was a short

"Hail Weaver

Demon of Fate

Firstborn

of the -unknown-"

***

the runes until he was on the verge of losing consciousness. Only then

nauseating dissonance of the terrible runes stayed carved into his mind. Only after several minutes passed did it fade a little,

forbidden lineage he had inherited was, in fact, associated with

What were the chances?

for you,

wasn't the one used to

spirit or a daemon would have been more suitable — a mortal, but powerful and ominous deity. One different from gods, but sharing the same nature. However, Sunny wasn't that versed in mystical terminology. All he knew was that the runic language was incredibly rich in words describing all types

was

noticed one other important thing by forcing himself

the Spell refused to call by its