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Disclaimer: The following pasta is based on a convoluted lore, this specific story is my understanding and personal interpretation of the said lore. Each one of us might interpret the set of lore differently such as timeline arrangement or specific behavior arranged in the story and etc. This is also my first time writing a mind-fuck pasta or any creative piece in general. This pasta itself is highly inspired by XoraX, so please excuse me if there is any similarity. constructive comments are always welcome and more importantly, tell me what you think. Thank you and enjoy.

There was once a great kingdom ruled by a god, but that is not the case anymore, it is slowly being eroded by change. Disease had started to ravage among the population in the kingdom. In time, nearly all of its people become infected by what is now an epidemic. It seemed harmless at first, but it will gradually erode your sanity and smother your will to live.

For what seems like years, I have seen many suffer and break under this ailment. They tend to lose their words and reason and attack each other like beasts. I was startled like any other the first time I saw it, but now it is just common occurrence. Even without being afflicted by this disease, one might lose his sanity witnessing this. I fear seeing this is numbing me and chipping away at my very soul.

The sign of the plague makes its disgusting mark on my body. Am I doomed to suffer the same fate? Do I go to a distant land to seek a cure? Should I kill myself, and end it all? Or do I simply let it takes its course and let it turn me into something inhuman, something empty before my final moments? I simply chose the latter taking refuge upon a moss filled hilltop. I would take a liking to the solace away from the madness of my former kingdom, yet never be too far from it. It's my home after all.

I sat here for days, or is it weeks, months maybe? I can't tell, time seems to be a blur. My sole company is an occasional silent weeping and the caw of some birds from the surrounding, but one day, someone garbed in a tethered red cloth spoke to me about a prophecy, that someone from the north will come, and resolve the situation. In my broken mind I kept asking myself “Really? Someone from the north, a distant unreachable land will magically appear and save us all? What this red figure told me seemed far fetched at best. What can a single person do? An entire kingdom with all of its best knights could not even stem the tide.” It struck fascination and jealousy in me all at once, I was roused from my despair given just a sliver of hope. In that moment, the man left with the parting words to spread this prophecy. I hope he didn't think I was going anywhere, at best I would tell travelers as they passed by.

Surely no one would arrive here. It's a fool’s game, maybe I have lost it already and sunk into the deepest pits of despair. I should spread the word and venture out. If I stay here I will surely lose it, how terrible that will be. But no matter how hard I tried gathering the will to go, to venture out, to spread the word, I just ended up staying here and in the end I decided that I will continue to stay here until the disease completely devours me.

Someone else came, is this hope playing a cruel joke on me yet again?  I could not help myself but tell this new arrival all the details of the prophecy. Maybe this man of the north can surely save us. He set out, and in retrospect he didn't seem all that strong. In fact, he appeared to be more of a bandit than anything. I probably just sent the fool to his death or some common thief to loot the city. I am not sure I don’t care anymore, and he never came back anyway.

Eventually, more supposed hero came from the north arrive and less and less direction I give them. I am not sure if it's because I don't trust them or if I don't care at this point. I now feel like a man who simply points travelers to their death. Maybe I am a monster already? No matter, I will have my entertainment and see which “hero” makes it the farthest.

As I sent another hero to his doom, surprise shook me. I heard the distinct sound of the bell from the chapel. The bell of awakening it is called. In truth now that I think of it, he was not the first, and I think I have heard it several more times, but this one adventurer keeps coming back here. Maybe he is the chosen one, with that I am reminded of how I am not the chosen one. Even if he is chosen I can't be saved, it doesn't matter anyway. I still find it strange that I urge him on forward to ring the next bell. Maybe it’s for the entertainment to see how much he can accomplish.

Now this place is full of people, a nutty old man from earlier. A swamp trotting pyromancer, and some others have come and go for a time. My peace and quiet is being ruined. Another bell sounds, and soon I am greeted by the chosen one yet again. I give the chosen undead some praise and tell him of a new problem. The beast.. It's noisy, it snores and its breath is lethal. This is no laughing matter I tell you.



“Damn, that stench…. And I was really beginning to like it here! Sigh… Maybe it’s time I do something about it….”

Written by Lemouri

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