At around midnight, Aubrey awoke to the sensation of water dripping down the side of her face. She lifted her head, wiping her cheek with her palm, and peered up.
Above her, a single cloud, illuminated by the full moon, drifted lazily through the sky, a silver halo of moonlight bathing its edges. The rain had subsided, leaving only puddles dotting the street, reflecting the silvery brilliance of the moon.
Gingerly, she untangled herself from her crouching position and stretched, feeling the aches and soreness of her body.
Somehow, she'd fallen asleep in the rain, sitting on the cold, wet, and dirty ground.
Lovely.
After taking stock of her possessions, she noted that all her belongings remained in place, fortunately. Not that she carried much. But at least her money and items were safe.
Dismally, she plucked at her attire. Her dress, thoroughly soaked, clung to her curves, showing off everything. And the cold air nipped at her exposed skin.
Great. Just great.
Aubrey frowned, regarding the cathedral's facade. It sat there, quiet and majestic, its spires piercing the night. Rising to her feet, she strode to the cathedral's entrance. The massive door loomed, taunting her, and she gripped the handle and tugged.
Locked.
Next, she tried the side doors.
Also locked.
Frustrated, Aubrey kicked at the door. She immediately regretted the decision, wincing at the fresh stab of pain in her foot.
"Fuck you, stupid gargoyle. We're not done," Aubrey swore, glaring at the cathedral's facade.
For several minutes, she stood there, watching. Nothing stirred, nor did any lights appear in the windows.
"Bastard's probably sleeping on the job," Aubrey grumbled.
If she wanted back inside, she needed to find an alternative access point. She began her search, inspecting the perimeter for alternate entrances.
Her footsteps splashed against the rain-soaked cobblestone as she made her rounds around the cathedral. After ten minutes, she sighed, crestfallen.
She could try scaling the walls, perhaps enter through a broken window or through a hole in the roof. Except... the rain probably compromised any holds or surfaces she could use, turning them slick and slippery.
Or worse, crumbly.
Plus, it looked high. As in, potentially lethal if she fell.
Definitely a no-go.
Finally, after circling the building, her gaze settled on a small, narrow stairwell at the back of the cathedral. At first, the steps seemed to descend into a pit or well, but then they turned and led downward, disappearing into a door.
Maybe it's an entrance to the lower levels. Or a cellar, or even a wine cellar.
Aubrey eyed the staircase critically. Despite the rain, the steps appeared sturdy and solid. Confident, she descended into the depths below, stepping lightly and carefully, one hand resting on the stone railing.
At the bottom, she discovered the door, standing slightly ajar. She nudged the door with her boot, and it groaned open, revealing a corridor beyond. An odor wafted through the doorway, smelling strongly of earth, mold, and dust.
Pushing onward, she stepped through the doorway. Cobwebs dangled from the ceiling, and she brushed them aside, wincing at the tickle of gossamer threading across her face.
Even though she shouldn't be able to see in the dark, her eyes adjusted easily, the corridor's details and layout readily apparent.
Strange... but convenient. Must be another Banshee or Revenant thing.
As she crept along the hallway, she examined her surroundings, noting that the walls consisted of crumbling brick and stonework, similar to the architecture of the upper level of the cathedral. The ceiling above dripped with moisture, and puddles of rainwater gathered on the uneven flooring.
She felt disoriented, as though she'd entered a catacomb. A passage branched to the left, and then another to the right. At the end of the corridor, an iron gate barred the way.
The gate, rusting and corroded, creaked loudly as she tugged at the bars. To her surprise, it swung inward, screeching on its rusted hinges.
Aubrey paused, glancing around nervously. No sign of the gargoyle or anyone else. The coast remained clear, and she stepped through.
Beyond, a stairwell spiraled upward, and she climbed the steps, her boots clicking softly. The sound echoed within the enclosure, ringing with each stride.
Her fingers brushed against the hilt of her short sword and the dagger at her belt, their presence reassuring yet she knew all too well their ineffectiveness against the gargoyle's stony hide.
A door stood at the top of the stairs, and she pushed through, emerging into what looked like the transept of the cathedral.
Empty wooden pews lined the side walls, while rows of columns reached upward to a vaulted ceiling. Muted moonlight streamed through the windows, falling upon the choir and apse.
So far, so good. Seems deserted. Maybe Mr. Stoneface doesn't live here after all...
Aubrey walked quietly along the aisle, careful not to disturb the silence. Perhaps if she could gain access to a bed, a change of clothing, and some food, she could work on a plan for a counterattack.
Revenge. Sweet revenge.
Movement—a whisper of noise—caught Aubrey's ear, and she froze, straining her senses.
She slowly turned to her right, focusing on a darkened alcove partially concealed by the pillars. The gloom shifted, and a figure detached itself from the darkness.
Aubrey's hand inched to her sword.
It's that stupid, gargoyl—
But before she could finish the thought, the gargoyle lunged, its wings flared wide.
Surprised, Aubrey shrieked and backpedaled, slipping on the stone floor. In a tangle of arms and legs, she tumbled backward, smashing into a pew.
Dazed, she glanced up at the gargoyle, its eyes aglow as it glared down at her.
"You again..." the gargoyle uttered, his voice tinged with disbelief. "How—"
"Came through the basement! The door's unlocked, by the way," Aubrey snapped, righting herself as she drew her sword.
The gargoyle watched her, unmoving. His expression conveyed annoyance as if she were some bothersome child needing scolding.
"You aren't welcome here," the gargoyle said, his tone low and threatening.
"Neither are you. Gargoyles should be outside, on a roof, not inside."
"Foolish woman, I guard this sacred place," the gargoyle spoke, advancing until he towered over her. "Do not mistake my patience for benevolence. Now, leave."
Aubrey readied her blade, shifting into a defensive posture. Already, the music emerged, a familiar composition taking shape in her mind. "Nope. I told you, I'm staying. Guess we do things the hard way."
"Again? Hmph, a shame," the gargoyle remarked, spreading his wings. "Well, have it your way."
----------------------------------------
As the gargoyle moved, a rhythm took shape, patterns and lines converging in her mind. Aubrey leaped aside, dancing out of reach of a sweeping wing and a lashing claw.
"Good reflexes," the gargoyle observed. "Yet you can only dodge for so long."
Aubrey bit back a reply, focusing instead on evading and parrying the creature's attacks. The music swelled, and her limbs acted, obeying the command, her body moving with a smoothness that surprised even herself.
Despite her lack of formal training, she'd learned to adapt, picking up the basics from what she'd witnessed from the bandit's encounter earlier.
Like then, she used her nimbleness and speed to her advantage, trusting her instincts and foresight to guide her through the fight.
[Stacking Effect: Staccato Step]
The gargoyle lashed out with a claw, but Aubrey, guided by the patterns, sidestepped the attack. Then she pivoted, bringing her weapon down, striking with the full momentum of her body.
Her blade struck true, but the edge rebounded off his stony hide, gouging out a chip with a spark but otherwise inflicting no significant damage.
Her foe turned, retaliating with an uppercut. Aubrey jumped back, avoiding the blow, then slashed at his leg as the creature pivoted, catching the gargoyle's limb at its mid-calf.
Another chunk of stone broke off, and the gargoyle staggered, recovering quickly.
"Careless," the creature growled, and launched himself into the air, taking flight with a mighty beat of his wings.
He circled the hall, then descended, the wind of his passage ruffling Aubrey's hair and clothes.
Once more, the patterns and lines revealed the gargoyle's approach, and Aubrey ducked beneath the arc of a wing, dodging its swipe. In retaliation, she brought her blade up, striking the joint where his wing met his back.
The tip cut shallowly, but the gargoyle snarled, turning and lunging.
His elbow, leading with a sharpened spike, caught her off guard, and the blow sent her flying, tumbling her into the nearby pews.
Wood shattered under the impact, and she stumbled, crashing to the stone floor.
[Effect: Bleeding (minor)]
[Condition: Winded]
[Condition: Staggered]
Aubrey grunted, her arms and legs smarting from the tumble. A glance revealed a gash on her thigh, her skirt ripped and bloody.
Groaning, she rose to a knee, her ears ringing. Grit, from the smashed pew, clung to her hair, and her injuries stung from where splinters pierced her flesh.
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The gargoyle grabbed her by the hair, hauling her upright. Pain flared on her scalp, and her eyes watered as she gasped in surprise and shock.
With a heave, the gargoyle flung her against a nearby pillar. Aubrey bounced off the unforgiving stone, dropping to the ground once more.
The world spun, and her head swam, but through the haze, the gargoyle's imposing presence registered, and she instinctively crawled away. The gargoyle stalked behind her, looming over her, the sound of grinding stone marking each step.
"Don't get up," the gargoyle instructed, his voice cold and distant. "Don't come back, and leave me to my task."
Aubrey spat, tasting blood from her lip, which now split. With a groan, she struggled, pushing herself upright.
"Fuck y—argh!"
Before she could stand, the gargoyle placed a heavy foot on her back, pinning her to the stone floor.
"I said don't get up," the gargoyle advised, his voice terse. "You won't survive another round. Are you ready to leave peacefully?"
Aubrey's cheek rested against the cold stone, and the weight of the gargoyle's foot pressed down, grinding her painfully into the ground. She groaned, her voice muffled.
"Fine, fine, damn you," Aubrey conceded, her voice strained. "Let me up, I'll leave, and we can call it quits. Happy?"
After a pause, the gargoyle relented. "Very well."
The gargoyle's weight lifted, and Aubrey inhaled a deep breath, coughing. Wincing, she clambered to her feet, her body aching and protesting the movement. Blood trickled down her temple and her nose, and she wiped it away, her palm streaked red.
Aubrey limped past the gargoyle, her gaze averted. Once she was several paces away, she made a mad dash to one of the side doors, cackling triumphantly.
"Sucker! Serves you right!" Aubrey called out, flipping the gargoyle the finger before shoving the door open and lurching inside. She slammed the door and leaned against it, panting.
Idiot.
Through the wood, the gargoyle's footsteps approached. Aubrey's heart skipped, and she retreated, frantically searching the room.
No windows, no exits.
Shit, shit, shit!
She eyed the sacristy's furnishings: a dusty old table, some chairs, and a large cabinet. Aubrey yanked the cabinet open, hoping for a miracle.
Instead, her gaze met a large hole in the cabinet's rear wall.
Huh, weird.
Curiosity overcame her fear, and Aubrey stuck her head inside, peering through the hole. Beyond, a hidden passage extended—its dimensions barely big enough to fit her, stretching into the darkness.
A tunnel. Guess there's my miracle.
Outside, the door rattled, and the gargoyle's voice resounded: "Woman, come out. Stop hiding."
Ignoring him, Aubrey squeezed through the hole, wriggling awkwardly. Her chest scraped against the rough stone, and her wounds protested, but she persisted.
A moment later, she tumbled out, sprawling in a dark, narrow chamber.
Behind her, the cabinet shuddered, and the gargoyle's voice continued, exasperated, "Enough games. Come back, or else—"
Aubrey grinned, rising to her feet. A pale light suffused the room, emanating from a strange, glowing crystal embedded in the ceiling.
Around her, the chamber bristled with artifacts and treasures. Aubrey gazed at the sight, her eyes widening. Weapons, jewelry, and other objects filled the room.
To her left, a suit of armor stood, gleaming, its metal plate etched with intricate engravings. To her right, a shield hung on the wall, its surface embossed with the likeness of a winged lion.
Amidst the treasures, Aubrey spotted a sword—an enchanted blade, judging by its luminous pommel. Its steel reflected the crystal's glow, illuminating its delicate filigree and runes.
This looks promising...
Aubrey limped toward the sword, and as she neared, a ping resounded in her mind. Her gaze shifted to her right, and that's when she saw it: an old acoustic guitar, its body adorned with intricate carvings and inlaid with mother-of-pearl, half-embedded into the stone wall.
Wait. Is that...?
Her heart skipped, and longing swelled inside. Slowly, she hobbled over, her gaze fixated.
Another ping chimed, louder and clearer.
Aubrey reached for the guitar, her fingertips brushing its wooden fretboard. She grasped the neck and gently, reverentially, pulled the instrument free.
Something clicked inside her—as if a missing piece, long thought lost, returned.
Is this...?
Her hands wrapped around its worn, familiar contours, fitting perfectly, as though reunited with a cherished friend.
Oh god, yes...
Then Aubrey's gaze trailed to the strings, her fingers tracing their fraying, rusting coils. Looks neglected... and worn. Probably doesn't work.
Aubrey shook her head, shaking away the disappointment. Of course, it's broken. Why would this guitar, of all things, be preserved in such a nice condition?
But she couldn't ignore the yearning, the emptiness, left unanswered.
God, I miss playing...
As she plucked a string, a note rang forth, resonant and pure, echoing sweetly in the chamber.
The strings began to glow, pulsating with energy, as if revived. Aubrey marveled, transfixed, as the guitar's body rippled, transforming before her very eyes.
Its wood darkened, deepening to a rich, warm auburn, while the frets brightened, shining like polished ivory. The fretboard gleamed, and the tuning pegs reformed, now forged from gleaming gold.
The headstock thickened, the tuning pegs recessed, while the guitar's pickguard elongated, extending outward, forming a razor-sharp ridge.
But it was the guitar's body, or axe-for-body, that captured her attention. Its contours narrowed, smoothing and thinning, and the guitar's width widened, its newly formed metallic ridges and spikes lending the instrument a fearsome, industrial aesthetic.
The guitar's bridge transformed, becoming a wicked-looking tremolo, while a newly formed switch nestled beside the volume knobs.
Aubrey flicked the switch, and the guitar hummed, a faint glow suffusing its contours. She traced a thumb over the now-polished and pristine fretboard, her fingers finding their places.
With her index finger, she plucked another string, and a chord resounded.
"Holy fuck," Aubrey breathed, astonished, her eyes wide.
Then she strummed, reveling as the notes harmonized, her mind and body remembering.
It's the same... She recognized the similarities to a guitar from her era.
But not just any guitar—the guitar—her prized custom 1958 Gibson Korina Explorer. The instrument she'd treasured most.
Except now, it's transformed, into a sleek, menacing, and enhanced battle-axe.
Holy shit...
Another ping resonated, and a system prompt materialized, its text shimmering and hovering before her.
[Hidden Quest "Strum in the Stone" completed]
[You have acquired a moderate amount of experience]
[Reward: Legendary Guitar "Hellion's Cry" obtained]
Hellion's Cry? Aubrey chuckled, grinning at the pun. How fitting...
More system notifications flashed, and Aubrey skimmed the messages, her attention settling on the guitar.
[Equipment: Hellion's Cry: Legendary Battle Axe Guitar (Rank S)]
[4 out of 12 abilities unlocked]
[Thraunquill - Launches ethereal blades towards enemies, causing piercing damage with a chance to silence spellcasters; Drawback: consumes a portion of your energy with each use; Cooldown: 30 seconds]
[Zyphrendil - Conjures a shield of sonic vibrations that deflects physical and magical attacks; Duration: 12 seconds; Drawback: While active, you cannot move from your position; Cooldown: 45 seconds]
[Lumivox - Reveals hidden traps, enemies, and magical illusions within a ten-meter radius; Duration: 5 seconds; Drawback: Makes you more visible to others; Cooldown: 15 seconds]
[Vibrakeld - Emits vibrations that knock down and stun creatures within a ten-meter radius; Duration: 4 seconds (stun); Drawback: Also affects allies in the vicinity; Cooldown: 35 seconds]
Aubrey whistled, her eyebrows raised. That's a lot of abilities...
She strummed the strings, marveling at its enhanced resonance and clarity.
[Note: Each ability will consume a fraction of Hellion's Cry's innate charge. Charge regenerates at a rate of one every hour.]
[Current charges remaining: 24/100]
Hellion's Cry hummed, its strings radiating a pleasant warmth and energy. Aubrey stroked the strings, smiling as the vibrations caressed her fingertips.
God, it's good to play again...
She plucked the strings, letting her fingers explore. Notes flowed, and Aubrey swayed, humming, her heart singing. She ran her hands lovingly along the contours of her guitar-axe.
Such a beaut.
That sword might as well have been just a piece of twig compared to the gorgeous and deadly axe she now wielded.
She looked back at the hole behind the cabinet, spotting the gargoyle's lumbering presence, its bulk obscuring the view. Aubrey smirked and flipped her middle finger—not that the gargoyle could see—before limping back towards the passage.
Hey, ugly. Better watch out because I'm armed and dangerous now...
She plucked at Hellion's Cry's strings, activating the guitar's Thraunquill ability. Waves of silver-blue spectral blades hurtled towards the gargoyle, knocking the creature back and shattering the hole and cabinet.
Shards of wood and stone flew, and the chamber shuddered, raining debris. Aubrey shielded her eyes, coughing, as dust and smoke billowed.
When the dust settled, Aubrey lowered her arm and squinted through the haze, spotting the gargoyle slumped against a heap of rubble, stunned and wounded.
Gotcha.
Grinning, Aubrey limped forward, stepping through the gap.
The gargoyle struggled upright, its gaze fixed upon her with wide, incredulous eyes.
"Impossible..." the gargoyle breathed.
As she neared, Aubrey strummed, conjuring Vibrakeld. Sonic waves pulsed, knocking the gargoyle prone. Aubrey stood over the creature, her guitar-axe leveled, its edge glinting.
"Payback's a bitch, isn't it, rockhead?" Aubrey gloated.
She swung, the axe poised for a killing blow. Yet as Aubrey stared into the gargoyle's unwavering gaze, she hesitated, her arm faltering.
Those eyes...
The gargoyle's orbs held no malice, no anger, but a quiet reverence. Aubrey couldn't explain why, but she had seen that look before... from fans who either met her for the first time, or those by the front row who watched her perform on stage.
It's the look of—admiration?
Slowly, Aubrey lowered her axe, her gaze still fixed upon the gargoyle.
"Who... or maybe what, are you?" the gargoyle asked, his voice strained.
"My name's Aubrey," she replied, sighing. "And I'm a banshee, apparently."
The gargoyle stood, gingerly straightening, his wings drooping, and his limbs hanging listlessly. His gaze traveled from the guitar, then to her, his eyes wide and awed.
"I see," the gargoyle's words emerged soft. He dipped his head, his demeanor submissive. "I have witnessed and experienced proof that the relic has chosen you, Aubrey. Forgive my transgressions."
"Proof? Chosen me?" Aubrey blinked, her eyebrow raised. "What are you talking about?"
The gargoyle nodded to the guitar. "You possess Hellion's Cry. You are the first worthy in ages, a bearer of its sacred burden."
"First worthy... I'm a banshee. Pretty sure I'm damned, not blessed."
"Damned or not, Hellion's Cry would not accept someone unworthy." The gargoyle inclined his head, his demeanor subdued. "I offer my apologies. I mistook you for a thief and an intruder. My duty compelled me to resist, but now, seeing you and the relic, I know."
"Know what?"
"That I should serve," the gargoyle bowed deeply. "Name it, and I will fulfill my duties, and honor my vows."
"Uh, hold up." Aubrey backed away, taken aback. "Service and vows? What the hell are you talking about?"
Confusion flickered across the gargoyle's features, his brow furrowed. "Your retainer, I presume?"
"Retainer? Hold on. Backtrack, okay?" Aubrey massaged the bridge of her forehead.
Her fight for her survival had unexpectedly turned into an unexpected and absurd negotiation session.
"Okay, let's start over." Aubrey pointed to the gargoyle. "Name, introduction, status report. Make it quick."
"Status... as retainer, sworn servant, and protector, Milady," the gargoyle straightened, his gaze meeting hers. "My name is Cedric Undergloom, and my role, since times long past, is the guardian of the cathedral and the keeper of the relic, Hellion's Cry."
"Guardian, huh? Nice. Guardian of the cathedral..." Aubrey regarded the chamber and its wealth, her eyebrow raised. "...keeper of the relic, eh? You seem more like a treasurer, a glorified janitor, and a rent-a-cop. Who's the cathedral's owner anyway?"
"Long ago, this sanctuary belonged to the followers of the Sovereign Incantatrix. But after the goddess' prolonged silence, the cathedral fell into ruin, and the faithful scattered or departed, Hellion's Cry's care fell to me. Only a wielder capable, deserving, and worthy can claim the title and honor of its rightful heir."
"Huh... interesting." Aubrey regarded her axe, stroking the strings. "So, Hellion's Cry belongs to me, and I can boss you around, or whatever?"
"Yes, Milady."
"Hmm..." Aubrey smiled, amused and intrigued. "Milady, eh? Okay, I can dig that."
She pursed her lips, studying the gargoyle. Looks sincere, especially after the whole apologetic display, kneeling, and offering-service shtick. Could definitely use an ally, or retainer, whatever.
She pointed Hellion's Cry at the gargoyle and addressed him imperiously, doing her best posh English accent: "All right, Cedric Undergloom, I dub thee, 'my retainer.' Swear fealty. And I want breakfast and dinner, a bath, clean clothes, and a comfy bed."
Surprisingly, it came out naturally to her—the accent and authoritarian speech pattern. Must be from her other memories and personality from this world...
"As you wish, Milady," Cedric Undergloom dropped obediently onto a knee, a fist raised to his chest.
"Good. Glad that's settled. Now rise, retainer." Aubrey gestured magnanimously. "Also, I changed my mind. Stop calling me 'Milady' sounds too stuffy."
"Then how shall I refer to you?"
"Boss, or Aubrey. Whichever." Aubrey waved dismissively. "Now, I'm tired, bruised, and battered. Show me around, find me a room, and draw me a bath."
"By your command."
"Excellent, Ceddy. Lead the way." Aubrey yawned, fatigue and exhaustion settling in.
She glanced at the guitar-axe cradled in her arm and strummed the strings idly, pleased, her mood considerably improved.
Things just got a little brighter…