Ianna ran her thumb over the hole, her expression turning somber.
“This must have been how you died,” She said, before putting the mask in her inventory. There was no point in playing with it right now. She moved on; the next item she examined was a small satchel filled with five tiny crystal shards. Each of them was nearly transparent and glowed faintly when Ianna touched them.
“I was wondering how that worked,” Ianna said, plucking one out of the bag and holding it. When no prompt suddenly offered to consume the shard like with the Aspect Stones, she frowned. Was there a trick to it? She turned it over between her fingers and waved it in front of her, but nothing happened. Sighing, she put it back in the bag and moved on to the last item— a red stone with a glossy finish. It was slightly larger than the Aspect Stones she had consumed. She gripped it— and nearly dropped it the moment she picked it up. A heartbeat thumped through the stone. It gave her chills.
“Well that’s descriptive,” She complained, shoving the heartstone in her inventory for later. She glanced back inside the secret compartment and noticed a small folded square of weathered cloth lying where the heartstone had rested. She picked it up and unfolded it. There was a note, written in the same language as the one on the walls. She felt a sense of urgency upon staring at the words but couldn’t discern any context without an accompanying picture to go by. Sighing, she put it away as well.
A prompt had appeared out of the corner of her eye and she dismissed it. Not right now. Upon doing so, a sense in the back of her mind that asked for her attention appeared. She guessed that was the prompt’s way of letting her know she had ‘notifications’. It wasn’t an intense sensation, but she wouldn’t forget it was there either.
Gathering herself up, she quietly put her hands together in front of the tomb and closed her eyes. She generally wasn’t the praying type and certainly hadn’t been religious. She did however have a healthy respect for the weird and unexplained, and this whole situation was exactly that. The prompt itself as well had said that Queen Teyva Rani was finally going to rest in peace. It was a good enough occasion to give her a proper send-off before leaving.
After a moment of silence, Ianna turned and marched her way towards the open door. She took the time to stop just at the threshold, peering through to see what lay beyond. A wide hallway, perhaps a third of the width of the tomb itself, led further out into complete darkness. She squinted, trying to see further beyond the dim light provided by the braziers in the tomb. She looked back at the bowls of fire sitting atop the columns. Maybe I can make a torch? Ianna frowned and massaged her chin, thinking. She looked through her inventory. Nothing. Hm. At least nothing I want to burn. I need my clothes. She put her hand on her hip and turned back to the hallway. Well, I’m not going to get anywhere just standing around in here. Ugh. I hope this tomb has some magic lighting system.
Sighing, she stepped into the darkness. When she stepped through the door, another notification flared to life in her mind. She rolled her eyes and pulled both it and the other notification from before up to view.
“What haven’t I done?” Ianna asked, scratching her head. Wait. Does that mean I can die now? Another prompt appeared, interrupting her thoughts.
“Oh.”
“Iann—” She cut herself off.
“Teyv—"
She froze.
Maybe this is supposed to be a chance for something different. I’m… me. But I’m not me, am I? I’m not Teyva. But I’m Teyva. I’m not quite either person anymore. These new feelings I have… My own memories… She glanced back at the sarcophagus. Her eyes swept over the walls; the words within sprang to her mind unbidden. It was like she knew the language, but could neither speak it nor read it. She looked down at her hands.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Teyva,” She said, "Teyva Akura."
Ianna— no, Teyva Akura— blinked a few times and tried to process what she was reading. It sounded like she had one last chance to choose how she’d look before everything was said and done. Being an elf sounded exciting and fantastical. Otherwise, she had no idea what an Azar was, and she didn’t have much of an interest in being an orc or a dwarf. That said, she still wanted more information. Another prompt appeared, seemingly bidden by the thought.
I see. So these races all have their… traits. She looked back at the dwarven trait. That’s pretty badass— the elfkin trait is cool too. But do I want to run around with only half my normal size? She scanned further down the list. Azar are related to demons somehow. Interesting... Teyva mentally compared the human trait to the orcish trait. The orcish trait felt like an odd twist on the human one that she had thus far abused. Unfortunately, she likely wouldn’t get another chance to gain resistances safely using [ADAPTABLE] outside of the tutorial. She stroked her chin and then looked back to the list of races. There was still one more race— the Labyrinthian race.
She hesitated. There was no description for it in the list. but it was a race that was earned. It was a reward. It was something special. It had to be.
“But what is it?” She asked to no avail. The prompt hung stalwart in her vision, patiently awaiting her choice.
“I hope I don’t end up looking like some kind of bull-woman,” She grumbled and cleared her throat.
“Labyrinthian.”
There was a sudden flash at her feet. She looked down. Light began to rise from the ground, encompassing her body. Every inch of her skin that it touched began to tingle like it had fallen asleep. She staggered, catching herself on the ground as the light worked its way up her torso and across her back. The numbing sensation left her reeling as she fell on her face; her arms giving out beneath her. Her eyes tingled and even her brain began to feel numb. After some time, the tingling passed and she was only left with a slight ache to her nose where she’d hit the ground.
As soon as she regained control of herself, she scrambled to her feet and looked herself over. Teyva was relieved— she wasn't a minotaur. She was, however, paler than before— her skin closer to paper-white than it had ever been. She reached up and touched her head. No horns. She still had hair, though as she worked her way down, she felt something odd. She now had a slight flare to the tips of her ears— the first sign to her that a real change had taken place. She turned and hurried back toward a well-lit side of one of the square columns, peering at her reflection in the marble. Nothing much had changed at first glance beyond the pointed ears. Her face was still the same exce— she froze. Her eyes. Her eyes were yellow.
She reached up and touched her eyelids, blinking a few times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. It might have been a trick of the lighting against the gold veins. No. That isn't it. As far as she could see, as she re-examined her face from different angles, her eyes were a vibrant yellow. She opened her mouth and gaped. Long, thin, razor-pointed teeth gleamed at her in the reflection. She quickly closed her mouth and covered it with her hands. She looked like something out of a horror movie. She looked back and bared her teeth again; they were still there.
She sighed. I’m not sure I'd rather be this than a minotaur. I look like a… cryptid!
A prompt appeared in her vision and she read it.
Before she even had a moment to react, another prompt appeared followed by a deluge of notifications and information. She had to struggle to keep up with it all.
Teyva shook her head, trying to process it all. Achievements, her attributes had awakened, there were so many details. The labyrinthian trait is completely badass! Upon re-reading her first achievement, she frowned. Is this damned prompt making fun of me? Her exasperation subsided as she thought more on her rewards.
Titan Slayer. Hm. That’s a lot of pomp for executing a limbless torso. But I guess I have the title now.
She was about to open up her character sheet to review the title when a sound— footsteps— caught her attention. Hurried pattering echoed somewhere in the distance. Teyva froze.
People! Oh! What am I going to say? Oh, thank G— wait. Her eyes widened. What are they doing wandering around this deathtrap? Is it another tomb guardian? She immediately bolted behind the tipped-over sarcophagus. She dove into the spot to hide until whatever it was came and went. Her eyes widened. Don't I have to touch them if I want to defend myself? What if they don’t use death magic? I don’t even know how to summon!
She cursed herself for getting distracted by her new character details. She pulled her knees up to her chest and tried schooling her breathing.
The footsteps came closer. She could hear them echo differently as they entered the room. There was a murmur, then a distant shout from the tunnel. The footsteps in the chamber stopped. The closer voice— a woman’s voice, definitely belonging to whoever was in the room with her— shouted something unintelligible back. It was obviously a curse— the tone by itself could deliver the punch of their oath. The footsteps resumed, running across the tomb floor.
Teyva called up her dagger and took a deep breath.
The Mockery Swarm is waiting... join the before they eat your socks!
They would also very much like it if you went to the author's as well.