The Chronicles of a Fallen Star

Selene's eyes fluttered open, and her head swam with dizziness. She tried to make sense of her surroundings, her memory gradually coming back. Right. She had been set up. Chiding herself for becoming too lax, she surveyed the small shack she was in. The walls were lined with farm tools, the ground dirty and cold beneath her. She wore nothing but her bra and underwear, her white hair dirty and stained with blood from a head wound. Bound by ropes that she quickly identified as magically enchanted, she struggled to sit up, her hands tied behind her back.

The realization of her predicament sent a shiver down her spine. She had a bounty on her head, and certain bounty hunters were known to keep Demon skulls as trophies. The thought of her head becoming one of those trophies was terrifying. She tested the ropes again, but the magic within them used her own mana to strengthen the bonds, ensuring she couldn't break free.

Voices outside the shack reached her ears. They were discussing her, and she heard one of them shout that she was awake. Well, better sooner than later, she guessed. She braced herself as the door creaked open, revealing the same people who had ambushed her.

"Well, well," one of the captors said, stepping into the shack. "Look who's awake."

Selene looked up, her purple eyes gleaming with defiance. "I hope you didn't waste all your brainpower figuring that out."

The captor scowled and approached her, his booted feet crunching on the dirt floor. "You think you're funny, demon? Let's see how funny you are when we're done with you."

Selene smirked, despite the fear gnawing at her. "I doubt you have the intelligence to understand a good joke."

The captor's face darkened, and he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back. "You're going to tell us everything you know about the falling stars."

Selene winced but kept her composure. "Falling stars? You mean those pretty lights in the sky? Sorry, I was too busy not caring."

Another captor stepped forward, crossing his arms. "We know you have information. Start talking, or this is going to get a lot worse for you."

Selene laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "Worse than being tied up in a shack with you idiots? Color me terrified."

The first captor tightened his grip on her hair. "Enough with the smart mouth. What do you know about the falling stars?"

She met his gaze with unwavering defiance. "Maybe you should look up at the sky instead of trying to interrogate someone who's clearly smarter than you."

The captor backhanded her, causing her head to snap to the side. Pain exploded across her cheek, but she refused to let it show. "You talk big for someone in your position," he growled.

Selene spat out a bit of blood, her smile never fading. "And you hit like a child. Is that the best you can do?"

The second captor shook his head, looking frustrated. "We're not getting anywhere with her. Maybe we should just hand her over to the boss."

The first captor nodded, releasing Selene's hair and letting her head drop. "Yeah, let the boss deal with her. He'll get the answers we need."

As they turned to leave, Selene's mind raced. She needed a plan, and she needed one fast. These men were relentless, and they wouldn't stop until they had what they wanted. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever was to come next. Yet, Selene had no time to recover from the blow. She spat out blood, her pointed ears perking up at the sound of approaching footsteps.

The door to the shack opened with a casual ease, and in walked an Aquarid—a man who exuded an air of suave confidence despite the madness lurking beneath his calm exterior.

Ovochos was an unsettling sight. His skin had the smooth, sea-blue hue characteristic of his race, but patches of it were clearly not his own. He wore flesh that looked grafted onto his body, a grotesque collection of mismatched pieces. His eyes were bloodshot, and his irises had a greyish tint, the telltale sign of a true Fleshcrafter. He sported a horn that no Aquarid should possess, likely stolen from another creature. His right arm, muscular and powerful, was clearly not his own. Despite his macabre appearance, he was dressed in a fitting yet formal suit, the attire of someone who worked hard but maintained a certain level of decorum.

The Aquarid had the head shape of his race, with a long and pointed chin and high cheekbones. He had the sharp facial features of a predator, but his eyes were soft and expressive, the eyes of a man who felt deeply and had seen much in his life. Aquarids had short maws, with their mouths extending only a few inches downward. Their eyes were wide-set, their noses small and slitted. Ovochos was no different in that respect, though the grafted flesh and stitched on scales added a grotesque twist.

Ovochos knelt down in front of Selene, his movements smooth and deliberate. He smiled, but the gesture held no warmth. "Ah, the sweet Selene of the Slums. I’ve heard much about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you," he said, his voice a calm and unsettling melody.

Selene met his gaze with defiance. "Can't say the pleasure is mutual, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers."

Ovochos chuckled softly. "I admire your spirit. It’s refreshing to see someone who doesn’t break so easily. Now, let’s get straight to the point, shall we? What do you know about the falling stars?"

Selene smirked, her eyes gleaming with defiance. "You mean those pretty lights in the sky? Sorry, I'm just a dim-witted Demon."

Ovochos’ smile never faltered. "I see. Playing coy, are we? That’s fine. I enjoy a challenge." He leaned in closer, his eyes boring into hers. "But let’s not waste time. I know you have information. Share it with me, and perhaps I’ll let you keep your head." His tone leaking intent.

Selene laughed, a dry, mocking sound. "I doubt you have the patience to understand a good joke."

Ovochos raised an eyebrow, amused. "Feisty, aren’t we? But you should know, my interests extend beyond the mere reward. Your head would make a fine addition to my collection. And, of course, there are... other things I could do with you."

Selene's stomach turned, but she kept her composure. "You must be fun at parties."

Ovochos chuckled again, a low, menacing sound. "Oh, I am. But let’s not get distracted. Tell me, Selene, what do you know about the falling stars?" She could hear the bubbling of annoyance in his tone.

Selene narrowed her eyes, refusing to be intimidated. "I know they’re out of your reach. Just like everything else you want."

Ovochos’ smile faded slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "You’re testing my patience, Selene. And trust me, I am not a patient man."

"Good to know," Selene replied. "Then you’ll understand if I don’t feel like cooperating."

Ovochos sighed, as if disappointed. "Such a shame. I had hoped this would be easier. But I suppose I’ll just have to extract the information from you the hard way."

Selene’s heart pounded, but she didn’t let her fear show. "Do your worst, Fleshcrafter. I’ve faced worse than you."

Ovochos’ smile returned, cold and calculating. "Oh, I doubt that." He stood up, towering over her. "You see, Selene, I’ve hit a bit of a wall in my own journey. Level 55, you understand. Certain... sacrifices are required to progress further. Perhaps you could help me with that."

Selene’s eyes widened, but she quickly masked her fear with bravado. "I’m not helping you with anything. Not willingly, at least."

Ovochos leaned down, his face inches from hers. "Willingly or not, you will help me. It’s only a matter of how much pain you’ll endure before you do."

Selene met his gaze, her defiance unbroken. "Go to hell."

Ovochos chuckled darkly. "Oh, I’ve been there and back, my dear. And I brought back souvenirs." He stood up straight, adjusting his suit. "Now, let us begin. We have much to discuss."

Ovochos reached out with a swift and brutal movement, grabbing Selene by one of her horns. She gasped as he pulled her through the doorway, her feet kicking helplessly. The rough ground scraped her bare skin as she struggled, but she was powerless against his strength. The dilapidated farm passed by in a blur—the overgrown fields, the decaying barn, the cawing of crows somewhere in the distance. The place reeked of neglect. She knew screaming would do no good; there was no one to hear her.

Ovochos hauled her into the barn and tossed her onto the filthy ground. Before she could even attempt to fight back, she felt the bite of chains around her wrist as the ropes were cut off. Her face was smashed into the ground with a brutal force, her vision momentarily going black from the pain. The chains quickly wrapped around both wrists, and she heard the creaking of a crank as her arms were lifted above her head. She was raised so that her toes barely scraped the ground, the tips of her black, pointed toenails just touching the dirt floor.

Ovochos ran a finger across the exposed skin of her belly, just below her navel, his touch sending a shiver of revulsion through her. Selene began to regain her composure, the shock of the situation giving way to a cold determination. She was chained up, hanging in the middle of a barn, but she would not let him break her spirit.

"Enjoying yourself, Fleshcrafter?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom.

Ovochos smiled, a calm and eerie expression. "Immensely," he replied, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. "You’re quite the specimen, Selene. Such resilience, such fire. It’s truly a pleasure to work with someone of your... caliber."

Selene sneered, her eyes burning with defiance. "If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with. Spare me the monologue."

Ovochos chuckled softly, tracing his finger up her abdomen to her sternum. "Oh, I have no intention of killing you just yet. We have much to discuss, you and I. And besides, I'm not one to waste such valuable resources."

Selene strained against the chains, her muscles protesting. "You’re really going through all this effort for information about the falling stars? You must be desperate."

Ovochos tilted his head, his smile never wavering. "Desperation is for the weak. I simply like to be thorough. And if I’m going to turn your head in for the bounty anyway, I might as well extract whatever information I can before doing so."

Selene rolled her eyes. "You talk too much."

Ovochos ignored her comment, his fingers brushing the side of her neck. "Your flesh is exquisite. It would be a shame to waste it. Perhaps I’ll take a piece for myself, wear it as a reminder of our time together."

"You're sick," Selene hissed, her eyes narrowing.

"Perhaps," he mused, his voice as calm as ever. "But you see, demon bones create the finest bone dust. And your skull would make a splendid trophy. Imagine the envy of my peers when they see what I’ve acquired."

Selene’s heart pounded, but she refused to let him see her fear. "You really think you’re something, don’t you? Just another madman playing with forces he doesn’t understand."

Ovochos leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "I understand perfectly, my dear. The madness is part of the beauty. It’s what makes my work so... thrilling."

"Is that why you’re wearing pieces of other people?" Selene shot back. "Trying to compensate for your lack of originality?"

Ovochos’s smile widened, a flicker of genuine amusement in his eyes. "Such wit. It’s almost a shame to break you. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re remembered."

Selene spat at him, the glob of saliva hitting his cheek. "I don’t need to be remembered by the likes of you."

Ovochos wiped his cheek with a handkerchief, his expression unchanging. "Defiant to the end. I do admire that. But let’s see how long you can maintain that attitude." He stepped back, his fingers tracing patterns in the air as he began to chant softly.

Selene’s body tensed, bracing for whatever torment he had planned. She had to find a way out of this. Her mind raced, searching for any possible escape. But for now, she had to endure, had to stay strong. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.

Ovochos continued his chant, the air around them growing thick with tension. Selene felt a chill run down her spine as the first traces of his magic began to take hold. She gritted her teeth, determined not to show any sign of weakness. This was far from over, and she would fight until her last breath.

"You know," she said, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her, "you're just another pathetic excuse for a mage. Hiding behind forbidden arts because you couldn't make it with real magic."

Ovochos paused his chant, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Real magic, you say? You speak as if you understand the true depths of power. But I suppose that’s what makes you interesting. Your ignorance."

"Call it what you want," Selene replied. "You’re nothing more than a coward."

He resumed his chant, the intensity of his magic increasing. Selene's body ached from the strain, her mind struggling to keep up with the onslaught of sensations. Selene could feel the tearing within, her flesh felt like it was trying to be pulled from her spine, muscles separating with each painful chant from Ovochos. She kept her resolve, or at least, she tried. She knew she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer, but she'd rather die than give in. It wasn’t even like she was hiding anything of true value; it was about pride, about not giving him what he wanted. As she endured the excruciating pain, she glanced at her level. Just now, she realized she had crossed the threshold she had been so close to reaching: level forty. She had finally broken through level thirty-nine. Her hand tingled with the surge of power.

Enduring all this, suffering more pain than her class usually does, had allowed her to gain a good amount of XP. She was barely alive, but she could sense the potential of the void within her. She had been slowly losing her mana, and before activating anything, she gave a small smirk to Ovochos and spoke.

"You think you’ve won, don’t you?" she taunted, her voice strained but defiant. "You think your twisted magic can break me?"

Ovochos paused his chant, a curious look in his eyes. "You still have the spirit to mock me? Impressive. But futile."

"Mocking you is the only pleasure I have right now," she replied. "So why don’t you stop chanting and show me what you’ve got?"

Ovochos’ smile faltered slightly, irritation creeping into his calm demeanor. "You’re a brave one, Selene. But bravery won't save you."

As he reached out to strike her, Selene's intuition kicked in. She felt the void within her, and a surge of power flowed into her hand. It was a secret move set only available to the diamond tier: the void fist. Everything around her fist ceased to exist—the mana ropes, the chains, even the air seemed to disappear around her hand.

With a burst of energy, she brought her fist crashing down onto Ovochos' grafted arm. The arm twisted and mangled, then, like the ropes and chains, was cut clean. Ovochos pulled back, more amused than anything else, staring at his cleanly severed arm.

"You surprise me, Selene," he said, his voice calm despite the loss of his limb. "The void, such a rare and beautiful power."

Selene didn’t waste time. She shot herself forward, slamming her foot into his chest, sending him tumbling over in shock. As she moved to escape, someone ran in, screaming to Ovochos that they were under attack. The intruder froze when he saw Selene.

"Under attack?" she asked, her voice cold and dangerous. "By someone other than me?"

The man nodded, clearly terrified. "Yes, someone else."

Selene padded softly past him, leaving him quivering in his boots. She paused and looked down at the loins she wore, which had miraculously remained on throughout her torture. Her eyes scanned the armor the scrawny man wore, and she grinned.

"In trade for your life, I will take those clothes and armor."

"Anything!" the man stammered. "Please, don't kill me!"

Selene smiled, her fangs flashing in the dim light. "Good boy."

She quickly stripped the man, putting on his armor and clothes. It was a bit loose, but it would do. The man scrambled out of the barn, his naked form running toward the woods.

"Pity," Ovochos sighed. "A shame to lose such a valuable resource."

"You mean me?" Selene asked. "Or your arm?"

"Both," Ovochos replied, his voice betraying no emotion. His eyes met hers, and she saw a hint of admiration there. "I underestimated you, Selene. Perhaps, you're underestimating me?" There was something in the way he said it that sent a chill down her spine.

"I think you're all bark and no bite," Selene retorted, a challenge in her voice.

The Aquarid smiled, an unnerving expression. He said nothing, his eyes never leaving hers. She could see the madness lurking behind the facade, the barely restrained violence. The silence stretched between them, tense and oppressive. Finally, she broke the spell, turning and striding toward the exit. She left him there, as he stared after her, a silent threat hanging in the air.

As she prepared herself for a fight, she peeked through the doorway and stopped dead in her tracks. There, in the distance, was a naked woman and one of Lady Marcelline’s Sword Maidens. Selene squinted, trying to make out the scene. Was that Thrix with them? And why was he wearing that ridiculous hat?

Ignoring the chaos outside, she decided it was none of her business for now. She would find Thrix later. Slipping away quietly, she made her escape, her mind racing with thoughts of revenge and survival. This was far from over, and Selene was determined to make Ovochos pay for every moment of agony he had inflicted on her.

Selene managed to get away unnoticed, running towards the river. She wasn’t sure how her capturers had gotten her into the base of the Spinal Range so quickly, but she would use the river to get back. She needed to get home, recover, and figure out her next move. Laying low seemed like the best option for now. She knew she had left Ovochos alive back there, and she needed to put as much distance between them as possible.

She let herself get carried away... Just like the damn nobles. They pursued these powers, these stars. Besides, it wasn't like she would be around one anytime soon. They were all already found, especially if someone already had one. By this point, the others were bound to have been captured, and if they were humans, killed by now.

She could hear the river and made her way there, the sound of rushing water growing louder. She would swim out of here for as long as she could. She would come back for Ovochos, she would make him—

An arm grabbed hers, jerking her around just before she could jump into the stream. It was Ovochos. He glared at her, his misty eyes, the iris's resembling rotting flesh, staring back at her with seething anger. He whispered, "How's this for no bite?"

His maw extended slightly out of his mouth, revealing rows of sharp teeth. In one swift motion, he crunched down on her elbow. Without releasing her, he kicked her into the river, keeping her arm with him as she fell back into the raging waters. The last thing she saw before crashing into the water was him and her severed arm, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic joy.

The river swallowed her, dragging her along the violent rapids. Her world became a blur of pain and panic, as she fought desperately to stay afloat. The river tossed and turned her, throwing her against rocks and tree branches, her armor and clothes becoming torn. The cold, frigid water engulfed her as she was carried away, losing blood rapidly. The river tossed her around, disorienting her as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Her left arm was nothing but mangled flesh just above the elbow. She struggled to stay conscious, the darkness threatening to claim her as she fought to keep her head above water.

As she drifted further downstream, her vision began to blur, and she knew she was on the brink of passing out. She had to keep fighting, had to survive. But the pain and blood loss were too much, and she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. The last thing she saw before the darkness took her was the faint outline of the riverbank, tantalizingly close yet agonizingly out of reach.