"Well! Greetings, stranger from the sky!"
The moonlit man spoke with a vibrant, joyful cadence, extending a smooth, pale hand toward Asteria, who remained collapsed on the damp soil below him. His posture was impeccable, radiating an effortless grace that felt entirely theatrical. "Rejoice, for you find yourself in the brilliant presence of Noctis — the great sorcerer of the East!
Asteria grimaced, ignoring the offered hand as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Every muscle in her body ached from the velocity of her descent, but her mind was already on high alert.
The dramatic flair, the absolute confidence, the effortless charm — it was a combination she had encountered before.
'If he says anything else that reminds me of that silver-tongued conman, Valerius, I think I might actually go feral,' she thought, dusting the loose earth and grass from her clothes.
"Do you have a name, dear stranger?" Noctis asked. His smile remained fixed, warm yet subtly deceptive, like a beautifully painted mask designed to disarm the unwary.
"Asteria," she responded shortly, keeping her voice level as she finally stood up. She took a deliberate step back to assess him fully.
Noctis was remarkably pale, his skin unblemished and smooth, casting a soft glow under the moonlight. His figure was slender, dressed in flowing, expensive silks that seemed to catch the twilight breeze.
He looked incredibly young and strikingly beautiful, yet beneath that youthful facade lay an unmistakable aura of immense, ancient wisdom — the weight of centuries settled behind his eyes. More than that, his lustrous gaze reflected absolutely no malicious intent.
And that, to Asteria, was the most terrifying part of all. She knew precisely what he was. This man was a Transcendent — a Saint of the ancient world and one of the seven immortal guardians tasking themselves with binding the Daemon of Desire.
How was she supposed to kill a Saint if it required her to, let alone one who was unable to be killed by conventional means?
Noctis mused, letting out a small, melodic hum as he tapped his chin. "Asteria! What a wonderfully different name. It carries the weight of stars, don't you think?" The sorcerer of the East smiled once more, the silver moonlight glinting brilliantly in his dark eyes. "Tell me, Asteria, do you care for some refreshments after such a dramatic entrance?"
"...I'm not against the idea. In truth, I am quite parched," she said slowly, carefully testing the waters between herself and the fearsome Saint.
Noctis raised a slender hand, flicking his fingers with casual nonchalance. From the deeper shadows of the grove, a mysterious wooden doll came gliding forward, its jointed limbs moving with uncanny smoothness as it balanced a silver tray. Behind it, another set of larger, intricately carved dolls followed closely, bearing a small lacquered table and two ornate chairs. They set the arrangement down without a single sound.
The dolls, too, were entirely terrifying — their painted, lifeless faces staring blankly into the night, extensions of their master's formidable will.
"Where do you come from, stranger of the sky, Asteria?" the immortal, cunning saint politely asked, gesturing for her to take a seat as the first doll poured a steaming, fragrant tea into a delicate porcelain cup. His grin remained wide and inquisitive.
Asteria sat down, her mind spinning. 'This might actually work to my advantage.'
"A far, far away place that you could only dream of," Asteria began, taking a cautious sip of the tea. It was remarkably sweet, almost masking the earthy tang of the soil in the air. She raised her arms slightly, adopting a theatrical tone of her own to match his energy. "A place where we know truths we aren't supposed to, see things we shouldn't, and experience an equal amount of horrors constantly pouring onto our land."
Noctis's wide smile faltered for a fraction of a second, a shadow of genuine gravity crossing his beautiful features.
"That doesn't sound peaceful at all!" he declared, his cheerful demeanor returning just as quickly as it had slipped. "Thankfully, you have landed here. This is the magnificent Kingdom of Hope, and you are currently drinking the finest tea with the smartest, most genius sorcerer of the entire Kingdom of Ho–"
"If you finish that sentence by claiming you're the smartest man in the entire Kingdom, I don't know what I'm going to do," Asteria interrupted, holding up a hand to stop the monologue.
'Exactly like Valerius. It's infuriating.'
"Ah! Sharp-tongued, too!" Noctis laughed, delighted rather than offended by her bluntness. "I have a distinct feeling we will be very good friends, Asteria." His smile turned deeply charming, practically begging to be trusted, carrying an otherworldly presence that made it difficult to look away.
Asteria shuddered slightly, the weight of his attention pressing against her soul. "...I hope so too."
Noctis waved his arm once more, and another jointed doll glided over from the darkness, carrying an elaborate set of writing instruments, parchment, and inkpot.
"Now, since we are such spectacular friends, I'd like to ask you all about the intricate details of this faraway land you speak of. Tell me everything."
***
Time passed, painfully and deliberately slow.
The moon seemed to freeze in the sky above the peaceful grove, casting long, unmoving shadows across the ivory stone of the patio. Noctis asked an endless stream of vague, probing questions about the "real" world, his intellect sharp as a razor as he tried to dissect her answers.
Asteria did her absolute best to lie, construct half-truths, and navigate her way through the conversation. She had to remain incredibly careful; she didn't know what catastrophic failure might occur within the Nightmare if this Transcendent suddenly realised he was merely a fake.
Eventually, Noctis leaned back in his ornate chair, stretching his arms and straightening his back with a theatrical yawn.
"Well, it's only fair that you ask me something in return!" He laughed, a bright, clear sound. "Most people would beg on their knees for a mere five minutes of conversation with the smartest man in the Kingdom of Hope, yet I have given you hours!"
The Queen of Nightmare clenched her jaw, her fingers twitching under the table. For a split second, she debated summoning the [Sentinel's Heart] or the [Might of Gold] in an attempt to take his head from his shoulders, even if her rational mind knew it wouldn't kill an immortal. Instead, she chose a far more dangerous weapon...
"Why would a God give his jailers the key to the shackles they must keep locked?" Asteria spoke the words slowly, intentionally letting each syllable hang in the quiet air. She narrowed her violet eyes, scanning every micro-expression on Noctis's face as the weight of the question sank in.
She was incredibly glad she paid attention.
Noctis's pristine face instantly twisted through a violent storm of conflicting emotions, thoughts, and ancient memories. The cheerful, carefree facade shattered completely. His expression settled into something grim, dark, and almost sinister — a terrifying contrast to the gentle, eager sorcerer who had been pouring tea moments prior. The sheer pressure of his Transcendent presence caused the air around the table to grow heavy and cold.
"You know..." he began, his voice dropping into a low, resonant register that vibrated through the stone floor. "I have asked myself that very same question for a terribly long time now. That question... it was targeted specifically toward us, wasn't it? The Chain Lords."
"It was," Asteria stated firmly, refusing to back down from the pressure. In scenarios involving ancient entities, absolute honesty regarding her intent was often the safest path to survival.
"Yes, I figured as much. You know too much for a simple traveler," Noctis mused, his eyes fixed on his tea cup. "Why did the Lord of Light give us our own deaths to keep Hope chained? Why didn't he keep the knives for himself? Did he want us to eventually break? Did he want us to free her all along?"
Asteria remained entirely silent, letting the Sorcerer of the East continue his internal monologue.
"You know, Asteria, I've wondered what our true role is in this grand design. We keep Hope shackled within the ivory tower, but for what ultimate purpose? Why must we endure the madness?" The sorcerer shook his head, his gaze drifting up to the bloated moon before he finally fell silent, deeply buried in his own thoughts.
Asteria, however, had just parsed a monumental revelation from his existential crisis.
'Knives? Their deaths? So... let me get this straight,' she calculated rapidly. 'The Lord of Light made these seven individuals immortal, but their immortality is tied to a specific set of knives. They can only die if those knives are used, and their survival is exactly what keeps Hope locked away. Because they live, the chains hold.'
"Can you tell me about Hope?" the Queen asked politely, breaking the heavy silence. "You seem deeply conflicted regarding your opinions on this mission... and the very being you are sworn to keep chained."
Noctis blinked, the dark fog lifting from his expression as he looked back at her. The charming, theatrical smile returned, though it felt noticeably more fragile than before. "Of course I can, if you're the one who is asking, my dear friend! A genius never hoards knowledge from an appreciative audience."
***
Asteria learned an extraordinary amount over the next hour. It was difficult not to, considering the man in front of her simply loved to hear himself speak, lecturing her on the history of the realm with endless enthusiasm.
To put the matter simply, this entire vast civilization had been constructed by mortals who passionately worshipped Hope — hence the kingdom's name. The people loved her deeply because she was a benevolent entity; she had gifted mortals the art of writing and granted ordinary human beings the ability to learn the complexities of sorcery.
She was a Daemon — the Daemon of Desire — a fact Asteria already comprehended from her legacy.
Yet, even Noctis, with all his vast intellect and magical prowess, did not truly understand why the Lord of Light had decreed that Hope had to be chained, nor why her magnificent cities had to be ransacked, stripped of their worship, and cleansed of her believers.
As she processed these heavy historical truths, the cold, familiar, and majestic voice of the Nightmare Spell began to whisper directly into her mind, freezing the world around her for a brief moment.
Second Truth: Hope, Daemon of Desire...
[Hope, the Daemon of Desire, was worshipped by countless mortals across the ancient realm.
Hope walked openly among lesser beings; she was generous, teaching them the arts, and displayed genuine care toward those beneath her divine standing. However, her benevolence did not prevent the Lord of Light from setting her prosperous Kingdom aflame, destroying her temples, and branding her divinity as something fundamentally corrupt, malevolent, and evil.
Her alleged heresy sentenced her to be eternally chained within an ivory tower, guarded by seven immortal Transcendent sorcerers. Each Transcendant had their immortal fate sealed within a specific knife, which was then given to another to ensure her captivity and balance.
Iron, Wood, Ruby, Obsidian, Glass, Ember, and Ivory.
The Daemon of Desire gave mortals the gift of written language and created a systemic sorcery that anyone could wield. Hope's creation was later recognized as Runic Sorcery — a practice accessible to any mortal capable of understanding the geometry of the runes and learning how to scribe them.
However, after one of Desire's seven core shackles broke, her immense power began to seep out of her structural prison. The leaked divinity has begun to drive her entire Kingdom — and by extension, the boundaries of the realm — completely insane.
No living entity is immune to her ambient power, as every living being possesses innate Desire and complex emotions — the exact factors Hope can manipulate to engineer her chance at freedom.
Queen of Nightmare, you have almost uncovered the absolute truth of Hope, the Daemon of Desire! Uncover her final, deepest secret to receive your boon!"]
The shimmering text hung in her vision for a few seconds longer before the Spell updated her trial progression, shifting the runes.
[Desire's Shackles:
Heralded by the Nightmare, welcome to a Second Trial!
#1: "Dropped at the foot of a mad sorcerer, the Queen of Nightmare successfully gains his intrigue."
#2: "The Sorcerer of the East is presented with a surprising question regarding his situation, leading to the historical explanation of what conspired hundreds of years ago."
...
The Trial's Objective has been updated: "The Kingdom of Hope houses a deadly Daemon sealed by the decree of the Lord of Light. Will you ensure her continued capture, or will you assist her in her desperate quest for freedom?"]
Asteria looked up from where she sat, gazing upon the beautiful face of the Sorcerer of the East in front of her.
"Have you ever met Hope?"