“No.” Harris’ response was… not what I was hoping for.
If you’d taken even a few moments to think it through, it would’ve been obvious, Rye! Hunting in this place is dangerous. What if he stumbled upon a monster, or someone with a big-ass sword?
I barely survived most of my encounters, and I’, relatively armored and armed. He’s got… a bunch of pillows and a tin can. And as far as I’m aware, the easiest source of food were bristle spiders. The pain in my arm reminded me that “easy” is very relative.
“Water is free. Food is a bit more… difficult ta’ come by for someone like me.”
I sighed.
Oh well. I’ll manage, I guess. I just have to lie down and get some more sleep. Not a concussion induced one, preferably.
The aches in my head were now a muted pulse, thanks to the water. It helped. The rest of my body was still hurting like all hell, reminding me that it was probably just as shriveled up as my face. I shivered at the thought and snuffed it out before I could go down that road again.
My stomach grumbled loud enough to shake the walls. At least, that’s how it felt to me. I looked at Harris and he looked back at me. He was fiddling with a metal gadget in his hands.
I wonder what it is. It wasn’t large enough to be a knife. Jewelry?
My heart dropped as I realized I didn’t have my pendant. Before I impulsively could lunge at him, I remembered when I had it last. It had been in my right hand due to lack of pockets. The hand I had held Planky in. Planky, my plank shield that was obliterated and scattered after I blocked an attack that launched me straight into the tree canopy.
I lost the pendant on the hill at the graveyard. He didn’t steal it. Of course he didn’t! I just lost it, the scatterbrained idiot that I am. It was important, I’m sure of it. Gah, thinking about that is going to eat me up at night.
“So… ya’ hungry?” I gave him a flat look. He probably couldn’t make it out in the darkness.
“Yes. Very.”
There was an awkward pause interrupted by my stomach screaming bloody murder.
Oh shush, I literally filled you with spiders just yesterday. There were a lot! How can you still be this hungry?
“Right. I might know a place where ya’ could, well, scavenge for food.”
“Scavenge. What? Where?”
“Sticky spiders. Size of a hand, maybe bigger. Taste awful, but they fill ya’ up. Not very dangerous either.” Ah. I think I know what he’s talking about.
“Bristle spiders?”
“From what I hear people say, they’re very sticky. So, sticky spiders it is.”
“Have. You. Seen. Them?”
“Well, no. I don’t really go outside the temple. I get most of my food from trading.”
Huh. So even in this dark abyss, you can make a living like that. Weird. I wonder what does he trade in? Pillows?
My thoughts wandered, until I slowly pieced the pieces together.
Wait. He doesn’t leave much because he trades for what he needs. Someone told him that the bristle spiders are very sticky. There are other people. He knows where other people are! This could be my chance!
“O-other. People. Where? Who-ack!” I stumbled over my own words, devolving into a coughing fit.
“Woah there. Some more water, maybe?” He proffered another cup, which I drank greedily.
“Mhh. Water. Good.”
“Water good indeed.” He chuckled to himself.
Hey, I heard that! It’s not my fault my throat isn’t doing well enough to talk full sentences yet. Saying less words means less torture for my vocal cords. I forgive you! The water was good enough for that.
“But to answer some of your questions: They’re long gone.” I could feel my heart sink.
“Gone? Where? How? Why?”.
I need to know! Are there more people like me, what do they know about this place, is it really the end of the world, hell, or some sort of weird in-between?
I had to hold myself back from shacking the answers out of him. He was holding his hands up defensively, leaning away from my assault of questions.
“O-one question at a time, Miss Rye.” I couldn’t wait and scooted closer.
I needed to know. I was literally vibrating with anticipation, my rusty armor giving off a quiet clatter. I think I may have scared him a bit.
“Where?”
“Right here in this temple, miss. A jolly band, really, came and went as they pleased, free as a flock o’ birds.”
Okay, that’s a promising start.
“Who?”
“W-well, I’m not sure really who they were. Real diverse bunch, swordsmen, a woman with a great-bow and two or three I wager were mages of some sort. Or mundane scholars, I could never keep them apart.” He paused for a time.
Mages? Magic! I completely forgot about that! I… don’t understand how magic works, but I want to. Pew! Spladoosh! Fireball! Nyoom! You shall not procede! That kind of magic. Gah, c’mon, what’s taking so long?
I was almost afraid he’d fallen asleep. Or just randomly fell over and died. Y’know, reasonable fears. But he spoke up again, with some confusion, “I… don’t remember their faces. Huh. Has it really been that long? I’m sorry, Miss Rye, I really am, but that’s all I can tell.”
Well, drat. And here I was hoping he’d tell me there was some knightly order or secret cabal of mages or something else dedicated to helping people like me along with, well, un-life.
While that was more information that could possibly point me towards a direction I could go, I still felt disappointed. Like being robbed of something that was mine or having arrived juuust that little bit too late to a party.
At least I’m not the only one suffering from a lack of recollection.
I looked back up at his face, hoping he would go on. But he seemed deep in thought as well.
He sounds quite disturbed about having forgotten what they looked like.
I chalked it up to losing sense of time in the darkness.
“When?”
“Hm? Oh, yes, sorry. I was… lost in thought.” He said. “I can’t tell you how long ago it was. But at one point, some time ago, they all gathered in the room of offerings. Afterwards, they left, some going here, others elsewhere. None returned and I was alone since.”
I felt sorry for him. Left and abandoned here.
“Why. Not. Move?”
“Well, same reason I trade for food instead of scavenge for it.” He held up what I now saw was a blanket covering his lap. Beneath it, there were legs dimly shadowed. I couldn’t make out much detail, but even I could see they weren’t well.
Like twisted and burnt coal logs. He’s wounded. He never recovered. How horrid.
“I’m. Sorry.” I said, fully meaning it.
Sun knows I had a hard time through what I’ve decided to dub my “first day” here, spiders, demon-toads and worse. He may have had it safe in this temple, as it was protected by that gem-eyed sentinel up front. Still, he was fully dependent on those that wandered in for food. Not knowing when they’d return, sitting all alone in the darkness must have been an agony all of its own.
I know I’d prefer being out there. Fighting for my life and being stabbed and cut in return. I’d go crazy, sitting in here, leaving everything up to chance and not being able to do anything about it.
He looked up and gave me what I thought was a smile and said: “Oh, don’t you worry about me, Miss. No good merchant ever bets everything on one horse, and I’d earned quite the stash of goodies back then. Shame I can’t find most of it anymore but hey, I’ve managed so far even without light. Which brings me to a question of my own, Miss Rye.”
“For. Me?”
“Yes. What brings you here, to this dilapidated temple in the middle of nowhere?”
I wasn’t quite sure how to answer that.
I came looking for a place of respite? A source of water and food? A source of light? To get out of a dream and wake up only to find out that I was living the nightmare?
They were all true in a way. Though, out of all of them, the woman in armor came to mind. I chose to trust her and here I was. I would never have found this place if not for her.
But why did I trust so casually in what she said? Are the words of someone close to death somehow truer than those of people who aren’t?
The alternate answer is probably that I’m just gullible. Or desperate. To me, she shone like a small sun, and I can’t deny my thoughts then and now. I felt certain in that light, safe. I want to be that for others, for myself. I want to be like her.
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I looked Harris in the eyes, who was still patiently waiting for my response. I, sadly, had to disappoint with a question of my own.
“People. Light. Shine. How?”
“You’re asking how some people shine with light, right?”
Vigorous nodding.
“Well then–” he said, a smile creeping up his cheeks, “shouldn’t I be the one asking? After all, ya’ glow all on your own already.”
----------------------------------------
I was lying down in a corner, thinking what Harris the trader had told me. The aches and pains throughout my body pulsed to a lethargic heartbeat. Slowly, I repositioned my hips and shoulders into a more comfortable position. He had been kind enough to give me a pillow filled with sand to rest my head on, although he was very insistent that I know that he expected it back ‘unsullied in one piece’.
Whatever that means. At least my head is more comfortable than the rest of my body.
Of course I was sleeping in armor!
It didn’t quite allow me to get into a comfortable position, but that’s a price I was willing to pay to not get killed in my sleep. Even if there was some guardian creature defending the bridge, who knows what else could crawl inside the temple and decide I looked like a decently unpeeled snack.
Spiders, snakes and frogs. Demons. The usual. Ugh, this place is either wet or dusty, nothing in between. Also, I feel gross. If I stay in this armor any longer, it’ll fuse to my skin.
Despite my short rest earlier, I was tired beyond tired.
What a day. A short one, but as far as I was concerned, any time that started with me waking up and ended with me going to sleep was a day now. I’ve got no other way to keep track of time in this utter darkness.
Harris’ revelations were unnerving, but despite exhaustion and fatigue pulling down at my heavy eyelids, I forced myself to stay awake. There was much to think about.
So… supposedly, I glow all on my own. Huh. And here I thought it was the ring that did it.
I fidgeted with the copper ring. It belonged to the angel-lady and I took it shortly after her passing, thinking of it as a memento and a magical one to boot. That it was the reason I could see further afterwards. Magic rings existed, yet another random fact my memory told me was true.
But that wasn’t it.
I knew because when I took it on and off, and on and off again, nothing changed. I was still me and what I previously had thought were simply my senses adjusting to the darkness, allowing me to make out rough shapes within, was apparently my friggin soul that put off light like a glimmering candle.
I glow all on my own. Some people do that now, apparently.
I thought it would look brighter than… this. Nine to ten feet of dimmest light in every direction.
I knew I wasn’t the brightest mind but having my soul of all things reflect that now was a bit more irony than I was comfortable with.
Then again, light is light. Harris has none at all and he seems to be doing fine enough. Which makes me think: there must be other reasonable people out there like him, without light, right? And if there are, that means I can’t just stab everything that moves all willy-nilly. That just goes to show how I have to be careful unless I want to become a monster myself. They’re still people after all.
And then there are the people he mentioned before, the ones that gathered here in this very temple, once. They left, but I should find them. They can help me with my face. With my light-stuff. Maybe.
The thought was comforting. Which of course led my trail of thoughts directly back to a subject I was very interested in.
How do I make my soul shine even brighter?
From what I could piece together from my memory – conveniently unveiling rather random and often useless knowledge – the soul is enlightened through a virtuous life, one that betters your person so that you may end up as more than you started.
I’m not sure if “enlighten” was meant in the literal sense, but I was pretty sure that most people didn’t glow like a firefly when I was still alive.
Anyhow, bettering yourself was for the purpose of guiding your soul back to the sun, where it would feed the next generation by contributing to the light that gives life and where you could live in paradise all the while. Failing to better yourself and tainting your soul with sin meant that the sun would reject it. It would have no other choice but to fall back to the earth and dig down until it reached hell. Eternal torment at the hands of the foulest of beings, but also purification.
Hence why I thought that the toads were demons. They bargained with souls and, supposing they had the means to hold onto them, prevented them from their natural journey to either the sun or hell. That was the logic of it. My fatigued brain had simply decided to cut it down before into a simpler form: Souls plus pacts equals demons equals bad, bad, bad.
I still think I was right in that aspect. Except that my idea of how the world worked provided two teeny-tiny problems.
Problem number one: The sun is gone. Harris told me as much, he had been here for something between nine months and three years – no reference of time and all that. In all that time, the only light he ever saw came from everburning candles and those whose souls glowed by nature.
Back to the sun. It wasn’t where it should be, which meant it was either eternal night or the sun had simply poofed out of existence. Glom said it was extinguished. Dead. Gone. The cycle of life and death interrupted.
No sun means all souls go to hell. But what happens when hell is full? Does that lead to where we are now, where people come back from long past deaths like waking up from the worst party in existence? Wait, doesn’t that basically guarantee that I am in Hell now? Shit.
Did the gods do nothing to stop this? No! No, that’s wrong, they are still out there somewhere. Doing… whatever gods do.
I clenched my ring in my hands.
Also, as a slightly more pressing issue: I think I might be a demon.
That was the second problem I had uncovered over the course of the conversation with Harris. I had just asked him what precisely he was a trader of.
The idea was that maybe he had some better weapon lying around, one that fit me more than the unbalanced and overly long sword I was buried with.
Or something for my arm, to make it heal better. It felt stiff and hot.
I might be poisoned.
“Oh, I deal in many things, miss Rye.” He said in his almost jolly voice. “Pillows and cushions I collect. If ya’ find any out there, bring them to me. I’m willing to make it worth the effort.”
Well, that’s good to know. But I want to know if there’s anything I can trade for now.
He shook his head at that. “ ‘fraid ya’ wouldn’t have anything I’d be interested in. Not that either of us could see that, not enough light and all. Heh.”
Okay… I feel slightly insulted. Then again, I did just crawl out of a grave not too long ago. Not a lot of chances to “enlighten” my soul, however I was going to go about doing that.
I decided it was a fair verdict. I didn’t mention the ring. There was no way I was going to sell it.
He chuckled again. Probably at some stupid joke inside his head.
“I wouldn’t accept any bit of your soul even if ya’ offered it as payment.”
Excuse me, WHAT?
A thousand thoughts came and went.
He accepts souls as payment. Is he a demon? He wants my soul! Wait, is this normal here?
Oh gods, I’m in hell! Wait, why am I in Hell? I didn’t sin! I can’t remember a single sin I’ve ever committed! Oh wait, that’s not a good indicator at all. Gah, stupid memory loss! Stupid gangly ugly undead body! Stupid me, why did I trust the first friendly sounding person I came across? Stupid, stupid, stupid…
“… but I’d expect ya’ to have already gathered a few more souls. Y’know, with the world having gone down the gutter and every place being filled with monsters and the insane. But hey, guess ya’ aren’t the martial sort, even if you’re covered in old armor. Should wash that, by the by, ya’ smell a bit–“
“SOULS!”
“Uh.” He stammered. “Y-yes? Souls?”
“GATHER! SOULS?”
“… ya’ don’t know how to gather souls? I–I can tell ya’.” I wanted nothing more.
“G-good. So, ya’ didn’t gather a lot of ‘em which I can see by your rather… anemic light and–“.
Light and souls are directly linked. More souls, more light. Got it. Next.
“GATHER. HOW?” The question was somewhat superfluous. I had a gut feeling about where this was headed.
When I had stood atop the hill, cradling the knight-lady’s body as her light slowly faded, it was my own that grew in return. It wasn’t until after putting on the ring that I noticed the difference. Except that the ring had nothing to do with it.
“By, well, slaying your foes of course. Bunch of nasties out there, I’d imagine. Kill em dead, then eat their souls. You’ll never get all of it but hey, a bit’s better than nothing at all. But no worries, you’ll handle that! I’ve got a gut feeling about this and my gut’s never lied to me so far. You’ll do great out there.”
Haha. Yes. Of course I will. I’ve done it before. I’ve killed people. Two so far by my count. I had barely enough remorse to bury them even though I was already in a graveyard with plenty of space.
And the angel-lady. Don’t forget her. I took a part of her soul when she died. I didn’t bury her. I didn’t even notice it, like eating gathering the souls of the dead was the most natural thing in the world, like breathing in and out.
Everything Harris said after that was like a blur. There were some things important to him I no doubt missed. But it wasn’t important to me.
I was having a mild existential crisis.
What am I but a demon that glows? I don’t want to be a demon! I want to be a good egg. And demons aren’t eggs or good, dammit.
The stories always portrayed them as great towering fiends, long arms, spindly limbs, horns and fire and all that. Spewing magma and with voices that could shatter glass. Something you could point at and yell “demon!” and no one would question why, they’d simply run for their lives.
I’m supposed to be a knight, godsdammit. A knight! Hunting monsters, fighting for the gods. Honor, chivalry, righteousness! Painted in paintings, standing atop a tower made of fiends and monsters!
I tried imagining myself as part of one of those paintings.
Elia Rye, Hero, and slayer of foes!
But as I did, all of the corpses started looking more and more like me. Some were human, or humanlike, others taking on a variety of forms reminiscent of beasts and worse. The one me standing atop the pile had wildly flowing hair and a beautiful face.
Like mine when I was healthy and alive. Ok, maybe a tiny bit improved and embellished.
She was staring at me with the emptiest of eyes, like a cold ocean storm caught in a pair of marbles. The picture was so vivid I could almost see it transposed on the dark wall before me. Feel the brutality of it, the grip on a sword and shield, seeing the long trail of blood the last me standing had left behind. Smell it, the blood and… the… ichor? Sweat?
I took a quick whiff of my armpit. Oh. Ew.
I’m a demon that glows and smells like shit. Great.
It was in fact not great and…
I paused for a moment, gathering myself.
So, I’m a demon. But I’m also me, a thinking human. Not smart, just… thinking. I’m not a massive marauding monster; I don’t feel the urge to eat babies or kick dogs, or trick mortals with pacts and fiendish promises.
An inkling of what felt like conviction started pooling together in my heart.
I will fix whatever mistake caused me to come back as one of them. I will live the rest of my life as good and proper as all the great knights of legend did. I’ll kill the monsters, protect the poor, rescue maidens from dragons and all those other things knights casually do.
It’ll be a struggle, but nothing can be worse than waking up with a demonic toad stuck down my throat.
I rubbed my face with my crumbling leather gloves, feeling the ring I stole beneath it.
I’ll help who I can. Prove that I’m no monster. I have to prove it. First, I’m going to have to help myself, to a big spider buffet specifically. Then, whoever has half a mind left, anyone lost out in the dark. And doesn’t want to kill me, or worse.
What else, what else is there to say? That I’ll follow the knightly codes (which I don’t remember and possibly never knew), be good and bring glory to the gods?
That would be a natural part of the journey, of course. But I’m not ready to die for glory. I do however really want to get more light. Which I can only do by eating other people’s souls. Actually, it doesn’t have to be people. I could just kill a bunch of spiders, right? No one would miss them, and I was hunting them for food anyways.
But I really want some light. I need it.
I’d slay every dragon on the entire continent if it meant I could glow a tiny bit more. Not that dragons were real. Or could be killed, by me or anyone else if they were, for that matter. The stories were always quite adamant on that.
What else, what else?
I thought about the people that came before me, those that Harris’ knew but forgot about again.
Will they come back? Why did they leave in the first place? He didn’t tell me much about them, but they must have been good people. I hope. Maybe.
They’ll have left signs; tracks I can follow.
I could feel the list forming inside my mind, although my grip on it felt tenuous at best. Lists were good, they helped me stay focused on what was important and what I needed to do. First on this one was ‘get some more sleep’, followed by ‘get something to eat’. Everything else I could think about later.
I hope that helps keep the bad thoughts in order. I’ve been thinking more than is entirely healthy for a person who has hit her head more than three times in a single day.
I sighed, lying in the afterglow of my headache and many, many worries. I couldn’t stop thinking, tossing and turning, my armor making scraping noises against the stone beneath me and rattling at the slightest movement. Sleep won out in the end, but it was a slow battle of attrition and an even slower drift into a welcome unconsciousness.
If, over the course of my penance, I found an enemy I couldn’t overcome, well…
I’ll run.
I don’t want to die. I want to survive, live, even in this forsaken dump. I want to be a noble knight, to be to others like the angel-lady was to me. I can’t do that if I die to, I don’t know, an oversized wolf or a fire breathing swamp lizard or something. Are those a thing? Ugh. I can’t remember.
But who ever heard of a brave knight that gets scared and runs away?
Double ugh. Too much thinking. That can’t be healthy.
Time for sleep.