Trial Of The Forgotten

Elara shook her head. " So that's why I felt the threads where different. Well I guess that's why we're feeding them."

Eris stiffened.

She knew of this forbidden neutral magic. It was rare, unstable, and dangerous. It allowed objects to hold onto fragments of moments, sealing them within.

And they were feeding it.

Eris looked back at the looms, where those fragile threads still hung.

Each one must have carried something. A piece of someone. Probably a voice. A thought. A life.

And they were preserving them. Why? But yet they had to work despite the uneasiness. After all, they needed coins. Looking beneath the threads were runes despicting how the threads were to be fed. Well, no one here was an illiterate and they soon understood the literal meaning. And so they worked.

The process was simple: dip the brush, coat the threads with essence magic digging from within their internal magic circuit, ensure they held. But the whispers from the threads never stopped.

The longer Eris touched the strands, the more she felt it—memories were seeping through, pressing against her mind but she shook them off. She might go through them later.

One thread hummed under her touch. She caught a glimpse of a pair of hands carving a sigil into stone.

Another one buzzed, filling her ears with the echo of screaming.

Elara worked quietly, lips pressed together, as if refusing to listen.

Ash, though, was frowning deeper by the second.

"These shouldn't be here," he muttered under his breath.

Eris looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

Ash's hands hovered over the vat, the darkness shifting beneath his skin. "Memory Magic fades naturally over time. It doesn't hold forever."

Elara spoke without looking up. "Not unless it's being forced to."

Silence.

The looms were too full. The threads too heavy with things that should have faded.

Someone was keeping them here.

The village was keeping them here.

And when Eris touched one last thread, she knew.

It was Fox's voice that whispered this time.

" I- I don't want to remain here."

A jolt of nausea struck her.

She stumbled back, her pulse hammering in her ears as Leon's voice kept repeating those words in her ears. Was she imagining it or was that Leon's voice? She didn't think she wanted to know. She held in her vomit. She had to be strong. She had to ensure she left this place alive.

This wasn't a normal task. It was a record. And the village was making them keep it.

The sky was bruised with dusk when they returned. Shadows stretched long over the village, curling at the edges of lamplight. The air smelled of damp earth and distant firewood, but no one paid it any mind.

Eris, Ash, and Elara stepped into the hall, their hands stained faintly with ink that refused to wash away. The feeling of unseen eyes had lingered even after they left the loomhouse, but none of them spoke of it. Not yet.

The others were already there.

Aven spotted them first. She was sitting on the raised wooden steps, her legs drawn up, fingers tapping absently against her knee. The moment she saw Eris and Ash, she pushed herself up, crossing the space between them in three steps.

"You're here," she muttered, voice low. Relief, but tense. Her dark eyes flicked between them, sharp and searching. "Have you paid up your dues? Do that now and come with me. We need to talk"

Ash frowned but did as Aven said. Eris did too.

She led them toward the far side of the hall, away from the others who were settling in—away from the murmured talk of Orlen's group. A person was missing from their group, probably killed by the hollows they went to kill.

Gray and Reed sat with the others - their shoulders stiff and uneasy. The others however were relieved, probably the harvest of coins was great and one person had probably sacrifed himself for the team.

Aven didn't stop until they reached the small back room where they had slept the night before. The air inside was cool, untouched by the warmth of the fire outside.

The moment the door shut, Aven exhaled sharply, pressing her palm against her forehead. "I—" She hesitated. "—I don't even know where to start. Why don't you guys begin first?".

Eris didn't hesitate. She began to relay their experience in the loom. It wasn't a pleasant one and talking about it made her feel better. Once she was done with her tale, Aven paused deep in thought. Then she started her own tale.

The Nightroot Fields were exactly what their name suggested—fields thick with curling, black-veined vines, their roots stretching deep into soil that never quite felt dry. The task should have been simple: dig, extract, move.

But it hadn't been.

"The roots fought back." Aven's voice was flat. She tugged up her sleeve, revealing a faint, darkened mark along her wrist. It wasn't a bruise—it pulsed slightly, like something was coiling beneath her skin. "It's not just a plant. It's alive."

Eris stiffened. "Magic?"

Aven nodded. "It reacts to people. At first, we thought it was just movement, but then…" She hesitated, glancing at Ash before meeting Eris's gaze again. "Nia had an easier time. The roots barely reacted to her. I had to fight the plants not to catch me while fetching them. It wasn't easy."

A chill slithered down Eris's spine. That was certainly not a coincidence.Nia's ability—whatever it was—had made her less of a target. Aven, however, had drawn the roots like a lure. The mark on her wrist was proof.

"Something about the soil too," Aven added. "It shouldn't have been that deep. But it felt like it was… shifting beneath us."

Ash muttered a curse. "And they call this a normal task?"

Aven huffed a laugh, sharp and bitter. "Nothing here is normal." She wasn't wrong.

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the day pressing between them. And then, finally, Ash spoke.

" I really wonder what's going on. We need more clues and staying back and handling tasks won't help us find out what do".

"Why don't you guys let me know what's going on in this game? I would really appreciate it if the game is explained to me. Orlen didn't say much. At least I can see that you both know something", Eris countered.

Aven paused. "You're right. It's just been so chaotic that I almost forgot to let you know what's going on". She sighed.

"This game is a mystery door in which every gate opens up to a different realm. In each realm, there's a mystery to solve. To escape the realm, you must find the crystal and put it in the crystal cove which would open the gate."

"Crystal and crystal cove? How do we find that?"

"We must solve the mystery to get the crystal and discover the vital ruin in the realm in which the crystal cove lies but we must find these within the set time. You heard the elder. There are six days left to the Woven Festival. So that should be our deadline. Today is almost gone. There should be five days left."

Eris paused digesting these words. She then looked at Aven and Ash expectedly.

"Do you have any clues to the mystery or ruin?".

"Not yet. Today we've mostly focused on gaining enough coins for some days. How many coins do you have left?"

"One hundred and one coins. I was able to feed twenty-one threads."

"Same."

"Good, I have one hundred and ninety coins left. During the next few days, let's speed up our tasks - wake up earlier and work for five hours at most. This way, we will be allowed to explore the village. That way we'll find more clues"

"Why do we still need to get more coins? We have more than enough. "

"Coins are the game's currency. They are useful later"

"Later?"

"Let's focus first on these - "

A loud thump sounded from the dining hall. Aven and Eris seized their conversation.

"Let's go in. It should be time for dinner. ", Ash who has been quiet all this time chimed in.

They slowly made their way through the narrow hall.

Eris soon sat at the table eating the poor broth and hardened bread while having a hard time. She was a princess. She had never eaten such an unpalatable meal in her life but now that was all she had to eat. Here, she felt like even paupers were in a better state than she was. Soon she started to reminisce. The day's tasks had drawn out glimpses of what lay beneath their skins.

Eris had touched the Memory Threads, pulling whispers from them without meaning to. Something reactive, tied to perception—perhaps a branch of Inferior or Neutral Magic, but with an unsettling depth.

Aven had been targeted by the Nightroots, while Nia had been avoided. Sensitivity? Or something else? If Nia leaned toward Neutral Magic, then Aven's pull suggested something more volatile.

Ash had touched the ink and felt something watch him. The way it lingered in his skin wasn't normal. A form of absorption? Maybe even Divine low tier or a potential trait of Neutral High Magic, but not yet clear.

Orlen was an enigma. His choice of Shadow Watch spoke volumes. He hadn't hesitated. The others had followed him, and yet…

They were missing someone.

Soon, Eris and her group finished eating.and quickly made it to their room in silence.