A white-haired teen with silver-grey eyes and a broad sword stripped onto his back was trekking around a mountain range known by many as Sanctuary. With armor that were light and strong, he was trying to gain enough money to pay off his master's endless debts that the man had somehow accumulated after returning from a trip. He readjusts the armor that covers his strange black birthmark of his left arm, looking at the entrance of the area with hope in his eyes. He could only hope that the hunt won't end badly or leave him empty handed.
My name was Allen Walker.
I was a Monster Hunter.
And this is the story,
of how I died.
The young hunter ventures in, thinking of what kind of spoils he could gather for his weapons and armors. He would also need to gather enough for his pet golem, Timcanpy. The only gift he receives from that master of his. He smiles with that thought, thinking how happy Timcanpy would become when he returns.
It had been a good half an hour with no success, not a monster in sight. It made him more cautious and careful, it usually became this quiet when there was a large monster in the area. Yet, he couldn't afford to return without anything, so he carried on with his hunt and ignoring the bad feeling he was getting as he continues on.
I was just a regular hunter,
Trying to make ends meet;
I like the life of a hunter,
Every day was an adventure,
With new discovery to be made,
And new friends to forge.
The young hunter enters a cave he had never noticed before during his last few trips in the area, it looked like it was recently made from the earthquakes that were happening as of late. Since it was new, there could be things to forage, so he went in to investigate. Again, the bad feeling gnawing at his guts returned; he refused to listen to it.
But like any adventures,
Everything has to come,
To an end.
In the dark cave, not a sign of life was present. Not even any Bnahabras that dwell in caves. The hunter wonders what kind of monster would live in such desolation. He lights up a torch to see the interior of the cave and was amazed by the size of the place, the light of the flame gave him enough to view the claw marks littering the walls. He had never seen such marks by any monsters he had seen before, it was either too big or too small for his information of monsters he hunted. Curiosity drives him deeper into the darkness, and the feeling of dread just increased with each steps he takes. It made him felt uneasy, his body screaming him to go back while his mind kept him moving forward. He once again ignore the warnings with slight hesitation, his thirst to know motivates him to continue on.
Thinking back now, I should have listen.
I should have, this gut feeling I had,
For this will not happen if I did.
After nearly falling into a chasm and descending to what he could tell to be one of the deepest caverns, he found more claw marks scattering around the area. Each looked as desperate as the others were, leading him to follow until he stumbled upon decayed bones of a monster he and never seen before. The bones looked centuries old, as if it would easily be blown to dust by the wind. Adoring on top of the old skull lays a black crown. It shines in brilliant purple light under the flames of the torch, glowing in animosity while sitting idly. Yet, it beacons the hunter to come close, mesmerizing him in ways he couldn't explain.
I should have turn away when I had the chance,
I should have done that,
I should have;
And yet, I didn't.
Caught by the crown's beauty, the hunter dropped his sword and took off his helmet. He walks slowly towards the crown, eyes fogged and unfocused, hands reaching out to touch the cursed treasure. When his finger brushed the crown's surface, a mist of black pollen slowly pours out from the object. The mist gathers around the feet of the hunter, slowly trapping its prey under its spell.
I was young and naïve;
Bold and curious.
Unexperienced and desperate,
I should have just left,
Without looking back.
Mismatched hands hold the crown, bringing it to be admire from a close distance. He could hear the whisper from the treasure: 'Take me, wear me, I'm all yours'. The whispers repeated its message in its own seductive tone, luring the hunter to where it wants its prey to be. The young hunter, too far gone to break from the spell, brought the black crown to his head and slowly place it nicely on his head.
The moment I took the step to the unknown,
The crown suddenly unleashed a wave of black pollen and covers the unsuspecting hunter, causing him to snapped out of the trance and struggle to free himself. He tried to pry off the crown only to receive more pain as darkness was all he could see.
I was trapped.
The crown glowed eerily in dark purple as it envelopes the hunter under its trap, forcing its curse into the hunter's body as quickly as possible. Pain was all the hunter felt as something forced its way into him by clawing his head. The bones in his body began to bend and snap as if rearranging themselves. He cried out in pain and shouted for all of it to stop, trying to escape the agony. His whole body hurt like thousands of needles stabbing every inch of his skin while his insides were smashed and tossed around with the feeling of molten hot fire burning his flesh.
His tailbone felt as if someone was trying to pull it out of his body while his back arched when something jolted and spitted. He wailed in pain when he was two enormous forearm-liked wings spread from the back of his shoulders while a long pale tail busted through and was trashing like an enraged Lagiacrus. The black pollens thicken as his body grew in size and his vision was no more, his skin replaced by white scales and fingers replaced by claws.
The pain was unbearable,
It was as if I was dying.
I wished that I did that time.
The teen was in so much pain that he wasn't even aware what was happening, his birthmark grew alongside his body, creating something that was fit for a beast. His shout had turned into a holler of a monster as he lost the last of his sight. His senses became stronger; the need to kill drives him insane. He smelled a scent, but nothing living was near. His armor, laid on the ground, crashed under the weight of his claw.
'Allen Walker' died that day,
for is no longer,
who I am.
The pollens finally receded, releasing its captive to only reveal an unknown monster in silver and white. A red scar carved over its non-existing left eye and a black front left arm as its deadly claw. The hunter who used to see his mismatched hands could only saw darkness while 'see' everything around him. He shouted in fear but the only sound he could hear was a terrifying roar. At that moment on, he was no longer human.
For I am now, a monster, an unknown,
A beast, a White Eclipse Wyvern.
I am the Colorless Gore Magala.