Seeds of Truth
The whispers continued as you drifted in and out of restless dreams. They weaved through your thoughts like threads in a tapestry, pulling together fragments of memories that didn’t feel like your own. Shadows flickered at the edge of your mind, faces you didn’t recognize yet couldn’t dismiss.
When you finally awoke, the candle had burned down to a stub, its flame barely flickering in the dim room. The air felt heavier now, charged with an energy that made your skin prickle. For a moment, you considered staying in the chamber, safe within its sparse walls, but the pull was still there, urging you forward.
You pushed open the door and stepped back into the chapel’s main hall. The air was colder here, the silence broken only by the faint sound of crows outside. Miranda stood at the altar, her back to you, as though she’d been waiting for you to wake.
“Come,” she said without turning around, her voice echoing through the chamber.
You hesitated, but your feet moved of their own accord, carrying you toward her. As you approached, she turned to face you, her golden eyes piercing through the dim light.
“Did you dream?” she asked, her tone unreadable.
You nodded, the memories of the night’s visions still vivid. “I don’t understand what I saw. It felt… real, but it wasn’t me. At least, not who I am now.”
Her lips curved into that faint, enigmatic smile. “Because it was not only you. The dreams you see are fragments—echoes of a past you cannot yet remember. But they are yours, nonetheless.”
You furrowed your brow, frustration bubbling beneath your confusion. “What are you talking about? I’ve never been here before. I’ve never seen you before. So why does it all feel… familiar?”
Miranda stepped closer, her movements graceful yet deliberate. Her presence was as overwhelming as ever, filling the space around you. “You are tied to this place, to me, in ways you cannot yet comprehend. But in time, you will see. You were shaped by the same forces that bind this village, forged in the fire of my design.”
Her words sent a chill through you, though you couldn’t decide if it was fear or awe. “Shaped? You keep talking in riddles. If you want me to understand, then explain it to me.”
For a moment, silence hung between you, her gaze studying you as though weighing your readiness. Then, with a wave of her hand, the room seemed to shift. The chapel walls dissolved into shadow, replaced by a new scene.
You stood in a dimly lit laboratory, its walls lined with shelves of jars and vials filled with strange substances. The air was thick with the scent of chemicals, and the faint hum of machinery vibrated through the floor.
“This is where it began,” Miranda’s voice echoed, though she stood beside you now, her golden eyes fixed on the room.
You turned to her, your heart racing. “What is this place?”
“My laboratory,” she said, stepping forward. “The cradle of my creations. It is here that I sought to transcend the limits of mortality, to bridge the gap between life and death.”
The room shifted again, and you saw her younger self-standing at a workbench, her hands steady as she worked with a glowing substance. Beside her lay a photograph of a little girl, her face alight with joy.
“You wanted to bring her back,” you said, the realization dawning on you. “The child in the photograph.”
Miranda’s gaze hardened, a flicker of pain passing through her expression. “Eva. My daughter. Taken from me far too soon. She was my world, my purpose. And when she was gone, I swore I would find a way to bring her back.”
The vision shifted again, this time showing rows of test subjects—some human, some grotesquely mutated—bound in chains or floating in tanks. Your stomach turned at the sight, but you couldn’t look away.
“I used the Megamycete,” she continued, her voice cold and detached now. “A fungal organism with the power to reshape life itself. Through it, I created the Four Lords who now serve this village. And through it…” She turned to you, her golden eyes blazing. “I created you.”
The words hit you like a blow, leaving you reeling. “What?” you whispered, your voice trembling.
“You were not born as others are,” she said, her tone softening slightly. “You were forged, a fragment of my design. The Megamycete recognized something within you—a potential I could not ignore. You are… special.”
Your mind raced, trying to process the revelation. “No,” you said, shaking your head. “That can’t be true. I’m just… me. I’ve lived my whole life outside this place. I’ve never even heard of the Megamycete until now.”
“And yet, here you are,” she said, stepping closer. “Drawn to me, to this village, as though by instinct. Because you are a part of it, whether you choose to accept it or not.”
The room shifted once more, the laboratory dissolving into darkness. You were back in the chapel, Miranda standing before you, her gaze unrelenting.
“Why are you telling me this?” you asked, your voice shaking.
“Because you deserve to know the truth,” she said, her tone soft yet firm. “And because I need you to understand your place in what is to come. The spark within you is the key to everything I have worked for. With your help, I can finally achieve my goal.”
Her words sent a shiver down your spine. “And what if I don’t want to help you?”
Miranda’s smile returned, but this time it was cold, devoid of warmth. “Then you would be a fool to deny your purpose. But I would not force you. You must choose for yourself.”
She turned away, her robes flowing behind her like shadows. “For now, I have a task for you,” she said, her voice echoing through the chapel. “A trial, to test your resolve. If you succeed, you will begin to see the truth of what you are. If you fail…” She paused, glancing back at you. “Then it is better you remain blind to your destiny.”
The weight of her words hung heavy in the air as she gestured toward the door. “Go now. The artifact you seek lies in the forest beyond the village. Bring it to me, and we will speak again.”
You hesitated, your mind still reeling from the revelations, but the pull was stronger than ever, urging you to obey. You nodded slowly and turned to leave, the whispers growing louder as you stepped into the mist-shrouded night.