Day was practically born an orphan. His mother passed away upon giving birth to him, and his father was long gone, lost on an expedition into the second nightmare, something that, in this age, felt like an insurmountably small feat compared to the things that the saints that appeared a decade ago were doing, thus, his fathers name was not remembered in history. His mother's name certainly wasn't either, and so, while being the inhabitant of an unassuming orphanage in a middle class area within NQSC, he, with the privilege to roam freely as an adolescent, walked down the street lazily, sending passing glances at each and every shiny item or interesting person that caught his tired eyes.
He knew exactly why he was so tired, and he was heading to confront it. The Nightmare Spell, it felt a waste of time to think about the intricacies of the Spell or the fact that he would soon drift off into an unbreakable sleep. The truth was, he was terrified, unbelievably so, and every single fiber of his being wished that he had gotten lucky enough to be free of the Spell's gripping influence, or at the very least, he wished it wouldn't have happened the moment he turned sixteen, so he could at the very least, try to prepare, if that would even increase his slim chances of survival. He was no Legacy, he was no tenacious, beast of a boy with an undying will to survive… and he certainly wasn't lucky in the slightest, either, considering the circumstances he was in.
He wasn't entirely certain… of anything, so he just did what he was always told to do; he went to the police. He knew he couldn't go back to the orphanage.
Their eyes widened, they chattered, they scrambled; the whole panic-filled ordeal unfolded right in front of his eyes, but he was too busy being equally tired and terrified to consider it in depth even as he was being dragged down and strapped to a bed. He expected to be interrogated, but he was unbearably tired, and couldn't even form a sentence when the questions rained.
" What is your na-"
"When did the symptoms sta-"
"Hello?"
With a heavy heart and eyes just as heavy, he drifted to sleep, and heard a faintly charming voice whisper into his ear.
[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your first trial…]
'Huh?'
His face slammed into a pavement floor below, and immediately, at the start of his first nightmare, he howled in pain and clutched his nose.
He writhed on the ground, thrashing back and forward with his eyes closed as he struggled to contain the torrent of pain pouring out and permeating his entire being. He spent dozens of seconds in this miserable, wretched state, whispering a stream of malicious curses in the middle of each sentence he angrily muttered. To fight the biting misery that chomped at him with its razor sharp teeth the moment he gained back his senses, he dug his nails into his cheeks and took deep, short, pained breaths out of his mouth.
When he finally managed to collect himself, his woes didn't end.
"A Nightmare! I'm in a Nightmare, what do I do?! Oh god- I'm not… I'm not made for this! I'm only sixteen! I just wanted to live a normal life… I don't want to die! My nose hurts, my face hurts!"
But after that moment of clarity where he realized his insidious situation came a primal fear that rooted itself deep within his very being. He held his nose as blood flowed freely and tainted his hands, but he moved not a single muscle more, frozen in place by the chains of dread.
After a moment of grim silence, a new thought sprouted in his mind, one that he, despite not possessing a single semblance of true instinct, knew to be true.
"If I turn around, I will die"
The malice clutching him in its titanium grip was not one of a deep, frigid cold that sent chills down his spine.
Rather, it was one of a radiating, sweltering heat, like the Sun itself was casting a deadly, radiant gaze upon these barren lands.
No… It was the Sun.
After that brief moment, Day couldn't help but lower his head and hands back down to the ground for a moment in an attempt to fight for relief.
But his attempt was short-lived.
"Hey! Get the hell up and keep walking! Do you want to be left behind, you twat?"
Day yelped at the gruff, loud voice and was torn from his stupor.
"H-huh?"
Despite his confusion and disorientedness, he kept his eyes locked on the ground below, unwilling to risk disturbing the incandescent threat.
"Don't be a damn nuisance. By the gods above we all know that if you don't keep up you're gonna be left behind. I won't remind you again. Don't slow us down."
'Again…?'
The bitter man stomped away angrily, weaving through multiple people and disappearing into the crowd.
Day followed the tall, long haired, burly man with his eyes until he disappeared.
These people were odd, to say the least. Dozens upon dozens of similarly clothed people were marching forward robotically, but there was nothing in sight as far as the eye could see.
They had pitch black clothing on, and every one of them possessed a bag of the same dark color. Strapped to each of their bags were…
"Swords?" He said, barely able to choke out the singular uttered word.
Scrambling off the ground, Day kept his sights forward. When he finally reached his full height, he realized something else.
He was unbearably tired, absolutely starving, and his throat was completely, utterly dry.
Not to mention that all of those afflictions were on top of the gnawing pain that was coming from what he believed to be his now broken nose.
'The pain isn't real. The pain isn't real. Fight it, Day. You need to fight it. Come on, don't let falling over be what sends you into a spiral.'
'Ugh… damn it…'
His eyes began to lose focus, and his stomach rumbled ragefully. He swallowed the tiny amount of spit being produced in his mouth and coughed.
'I'm tired…'
[You have received a Memory: Measly Sword]
The Spell's charming voice boomed in his ears. He practically jumped in fear, and his unfocused eyes regained their luster.
'What the… A Memory? I haven't even checked my runes yet. Hold on, I haven't even killed a Nightmare Creature yet!''
He had never had any real interaction with the Nightmare Spell, apart from the many hundreds of mentions of it over the years of his life, so he didn't immediately think to open the runes and check it out. Nor did the thought cross his mind that this may be a ploy of the Spell for his first Nightmare.
'So confusing, so confusing… Will this damned pain stop bothering me? Oh man, I'm hungry and thirsty too. No- Let me stop thinking about it! Yeah, here, let me open these runes and check my new Aspect Ability out. .'
He was about to take advantage of the march and open his runes, but before he could; Someone rammed into him from the back.
Flabbergasted, he staggered forward a few large steps in a way that resembled a run, his arms flew out to his side and flung around wildly as he tried to regain his balance. He let out a yelp of fear each time his foot slammed into the ground and he came close to tumbling over.
After barely managing to keep himself from falling down, he couldn't help but mumble a curse.
'Scumbag. Fine, if you want me to move so badly, I'll check in a few minutes.'
He wanted to whip around and scream at them for their impudence, considering he was obviously disoriented before they had pushed him, but he didn't…
He couldn't, so he just walked, silent as can be, cursing balefully under ragged breaths.
"..."
A few minutes had passed since his encounter with the unknown man or woman that had slammed into him. Things calmed down a bit since then, and nobody had bothered him or said a word to him since.
It was eerily calm. Sure, there was the ever-present looming threat of death that could claim him at any moment. Certainly, the pain that was vehemently pounding his face and striking his mind like an iron hammer upon an anvil wasn't going away anytime soon, but he was full of adrenaline, and perhaps even a little bit excited.
Grinning, he let out an involuntary chuckle.
"A Memory? Already? I guess it really can't get any better than that?"
Stepping over the plethora of tiny cracks in the ground below playfully, he just… walked.
For a while at least.
Despite his weapon, the truth was, he didn't feel safe. Not even in the slightest. His joy was slowly becoming overshadowed by the growing fear.
It was like something was off. Like he knew exactly what it was, but he had no idea at all. It felt almost akin to the feeling one gets when they have something on the tip of their tongue, but no matter what he did or how much he thought about it he couldn't seem to cross the threshold between knowing and not.
With reluctance, he opened his mouth and spoke to the nearest person, asking the question that had been inextricably emerging in his mind since these emotions started to surface.
"Umm… where are we going?"
The man shuffled slightly, but didn't turn back to look at him, instead, he responded with two words:
"To pass."
"Uh, what does that mean?"
The bitter man started to curse under his breath. The only two words Day could catch were idiotic and head, but he had a feeling he knew exactly what he meant, so he just shut his mouth.
Biting his lip, the seed of worry began to feed on his fear and grow more and more each and every moment that passed.
'I'm freaking out here. Why is everyone so miserable? It's a simple question, is it that hard? The Spell is so weird! Why is it conjuring these peculiar situations? It's so calm, yet so damned dreadful!'
Perhaps sensing his worry, or maybe just deciding to pity the boy he thought to be an idiot, the man spoke once more.
"If you really don't know, then… All that really matters is one thing…"
"We are going to sneak through the jaws of darkness to pass a calamitous beast."
"The jaws of darkness…? A calamitous beast…?'
With those words, the man, once more, left Day in a gloomy silence.