Withney noticed the silhouette, but the swirling fog and dim crimson light hid most of its features. All she could make out was a cloak. Instinctively, she stepped forward to get a better look, but unease bloomed in her chest.
Is it right for me to go and follow that mysterious figure? I am quite weak and have no means to defend myself as of now. What if following the silhouette puts me in danger, and what if the danger is so great that I die? Also, what about this place? Is it somewhere I was brought to? Or is it a dream? What will happen if I die here? Also, it doesn't look like the figure wants me to follow it.
Then, a sudden surge of courage rushed through her thoughts.
You know what? Whatever is supposed to happen will happen. I cannot live my life in constant fear and doubt about my own abilities. If I die here, it was willed by the gods that I was supposed to die here. May the Shepherd guide me. Anyway, it's better to die in the light than live in the dark.
She took two more careful steps. The figure stood frozen, like a scarecrow. The air around her grew heavier charged with something unseen.
Doubt returned like a crashing wave.
What if it really kills me? I still do not know if dying here is the same as dying for real. Is this even real? What will happen to me if I die or get hurt here? While I am here, what if someone finds the circle and erases it—will I be stuck here forever? Does time even pass here? I need to get back as soon as possible.
She clenched her fists and took another step. Then another. A sense of determination rose inside her again.
It will be fine! I will only figure out how to get back by following the figure!
With every step, her resolve grew. About fifty meters ahead, the figure twitched—a sharp, unnatural jerk, like a puppet yanked by strings.
It moved more as she got closer, growing disturbingly lifelike. Soon, she stood right in front of it.
A black iron mask covered its face, glinting faintly under the red moon. A deep hood hid its head, and a tattered cloak hung in layers, unmoving even in the still air. A strange smell surrounded it—cold iron and old wood, like an abandoned church or an old drawer left to rot. It towered over her, easily half again her height.
Withney reached out to touch it.
Suddenly, the figure jerked violently and bolted toward the city with inhuman speed.
Startled, Withney tried to follow, but her long skirt tangled around her ankles. She could only walk.
I think that is not a human... Its movement seemed mechanical and rusty, as if some kind of doll. I wonder why—if it is a sentient doll?
Thoughts swirled in her head, but she pushed them away and kept walking. The cracked stone beneath her boots crunched quietly. The crimson light painted the pavement like spilled blood.
The city loomed around her—tall windows, sweeping arches, and carved black stone. It looked beautiful, like a capital city where kings once lived. But it felt cold. Hollow. The red moon cast everything in a color that looked like sorrow.
Withney wasn't deeply religious, but her mother had been a devoted follower of the Sky-Bound Shepherd, a god associated of warmth and light. This place—the silence, the air, the colors—felt like the opposite of everything the Shepherd stood for.
She walked for almost ten minutes before reaching an open square. A wide space with a dry fountain in the center. The doll stood atop it, still as before.
She stepped closer and called out.
"Hello? I want to know what's happening. Can you hear me?"
No answer.
"You're clearly able to move. Someone must be controlling you, right?"
Still nothing.
Frustrated, she raised her voice. Her words echoed through the square, bouncing off empty walls—too loud, like even sound didn't belong here. For a moment, it was the only thing she heard. There was not a single sign of life.
Then, she heard something.
A faint shuffle. The sound of clawed feet scraping stone.
She turned.
A hulking, furry shape crept from the shadows.
Her blood turned cold.
It looked like a rat—but wrong. Too big. Its eyes glowed red, locked onto her. Its mouth was open, showing rows of human teeth. On its back, several human faces were fused into its skin—eyeless, screaming, forever twisted in pain.
The stench hit her—rot, fur, and old copper. Her chest tightened. Her knees shook. It felt like she was going to faint. Terror gripped her completely.
A... Am... I supposed to fight that? But I have never seen such a creature before. It's so large and imposing. I feel like I am going to be devoured any second now. W... Why did I follow the doll??? I feel sick...
Her mind blurred. Her breath came in gasps. Her vision swam with fear.
She stepped back without thinking, heart pounding in her chest.
The creature stepped into the red moonlight. It looked like it had crawled straight out of hell—angry, broken, and hungry.
Withney backed up against the fountain, her heels hitting the stone. There was nowhere else to go. Only two choices remained—stand and fight or try to run.
She didn't know any spells. Standing her ground would be suicide. Running was the only chance, no matter how slim.
Oh, Shepherd who looks upon his lambs. Why did you put me in such a situation? Was it something I did that offended you? What----
Her thoughts were cut off by a sharp, awful cry filled with pain and madness. It froze her in place.
The sound came from one of the faces on the creature's back. And then—it smiled.
That smile made her stomach turn. Her body locked up. She couldn't move no matter how hard she tried.
The rat lunged forward, mouth full of human teeth wide open.
Withney shut her eyes and wished for it to be over quickly.
Then, out of nowhere, a soft melody floated through the air.
It wrapped around her, calming her, pulling her away from fear. It felt like being rocked gently in a warm cradle. Like a mother's arms. It felt... good.
She opened her eyes slowly, having forgotten the rat even existed.
A trail of blood stretched in front of her. At her feet lay the carcass of the dead creature. Its body was smashed flat into the stone, its teeth scattered, its eyes gouged out.
Withney stared at it in shock and fell backward into the fountain. But instead of stone, she landed on flowing water.
She wanted to throw up from what she'd just seen. But before she could, something moved above her.
A wooden head lowered from above, with a single crimson eye.
A calm, musical voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere.
"You still need training. Do not be afraid. You will now be taken to a place where you are going to have your first lesson. This was just the beginning. There is much waiting for you, child."