Chapter 8: The Autumn Festival

Name: [Maria von Cainhurst] Race/Bloodline: Half-Human (?) Strength: 2.0 Agility: 3.3 Constitution: 3.8 Perception: 3.0 Willpower: 5.1 Class: [Apprentice] Status: Healthy Talents: [Noble Descendant] — As a descendant of Cainhurst... [Noble Education] — As a noble, you received elite education from a young age... Background: The beautiful daughter of a pastor, well-versed in multiple crafts. Many young men in the town admire you for your beauty and kindness. In truth, you are a noble in exile, carefully hiding your identity. Compared to eight years ago, not much had changed on Maria’s stat sheet. Her five attributes had increased slightly with age, but not by much. This was within her expectations. Without proper training or advancement materials, most of her natural growth came from her Cainhurst bloodline. Race/Bloodline: Half-Human (?) With no access to suitable elixirs, Maria could only let her mysterious lineage slowly reshape her body. Because of this, some aspects of her status screen, like equipment slots, had yet to unlock. She was barely on the threshold of the extraordinary. Eight years. Maria strolled through the chapel courtyard, watching the fountain shimmer under the autumn sun. Mist danced in the air, faintly reflecting a rainbow. Selena hadn’t returned, and all news of Cainhurst had vanished into taboo. Any pursuers seemed to have stopped beyond the borders of Southwind. The time was almost right. "Maria." "Father." Pastor Lynn looked rejuvenated as he greeted his daughter returning from her rounds. The lines of fatigue and worry eased from his face. For a man who rarely called himself lucky, taking in Maria eight years ago was among his few blessings, along with joining the faith, marrying Ruth, and having Felia. "How’s Grandma Susan’s cold?" he asked, lightly touching the caution rune on his priest collar as they walked together. "She’s recovering well. Your herbs worked wonders." "I know how good my medicine is. I’m more impressed by your skills." He looked at her with pride. Maria had grown to be a thoughtful, competent young woman—one of the few bright spots in troubled times. Lynn and Ruth had a loving marriage, but her ongoing illness filled him with guilt. As the town's only priest and the head of his household, he couldn’t afford to show weakness. Nor could he ask too much of the [Sovereign]. Maria, understanding and mature, was one of the few people he could confide in. "Father, you didn’t rest yesterday and woke up early today... Tomorrow is the Autumn Festival. You’re hosting the ceremony with the mayor—please don’t stay up late again tonight." "The Sovereign watches over us. Never slack in your devotion." He smiled warmly at her concern. They soon parted ways. Pastor Lynn never noticed the flicker of unease in Maria’s gaze. "Autumn Festival..." Back in her room, Maria muttered as she rummaged through a chest under her bed. She retrieved her journal—a carefully kept record written in Cainhurst script and Chinese. It chronicled the major events of [Fractured]'s various patches: timelines, causes, and consequences. Better a written record than a fragile memory. "Year 998 of the Solar Calendar. Autumn Festival... November 11... [Fractured] Closed Beta. Five months later... Version 1.0: [Ashes of the Ember] goes live... Closed Beta event chart..." She leaned back in her chair, eyes distant. Tomorrow marked the beginning. Thousands of selected Closed Beta players would begin exploring [Fractured]—from the [Wall of Despair] to [Northwatch Port], [Razor Peaks] to the [Unfrozen Sea]. It was during those five months that elite testers uncovered the decay of the Sun God pantheon, steering millions of players in Version 1.0 toward that truth. Surely, some testers would arrive in Southwind as well. [Fractured] was incredibly immersive, but it was still easy to distinguish players from NPCs. Players could usually see each other’s identity with system assistance, while NPCs required observation. Maria had even more options. As a half-NPC, she could issue quests and rewards directly. Even without those tools, she could spot a player just by their tendency to stare at invisible status panels. Recruiting some of them for her own goals? That was in the plan. Rather than let testers fumble around blindly, she could nudge them toward the dying sun pantheon, speeding up the uncovering of that apocalyptic truth. She couldn't help herself. She had watched every patch trailer before her reincarnation. Among them, the [Ashes of the Ember] expansion had left the strongest impression. A blazing, arrogant sun god ruling over a kingdom of light—[Anor Londo], home of divine blessings and silver knights, a realm said never to fall. Then the twist. The screen turned dark. [Anor Londo] drowned in shadow. Solar magic could no longer suppress the spreading void. The majestic Sun King Gwyn, hollowed and alone, stood before the dying flame—a pitiful ember, nothing more. The contrast between divinity and decay shook the soul. History marched forward. Even gods could not resist its tide. This was [Fractured]. A world of struggle and sorrow. A world where no one, not even the divine, was safe.