Collected
Chapter 13
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The mention of murder was something Kamali’s cockroach self shriveled up at. But the idea of murdering the Collector was something beyond her imagination.
“Kill?” she said in a low voice.
Charon had begun leaning against the gray, secluding fog he had somehow conjured around her. “He won’t hear you, you know,” he teased, before taking on a more serious tone. “Yes, you heard me. We’re destroying Jarsh’s body once and for all. Avrom will die, and there won’t be a third Collector.”
He raised a gloved finger. “Well, a fourth, really. You could argue that I’ll be the third. Or rather, was the third.”
The words were like a psychic blow to Kamali. She backed up at once, arms pressing against the solid gray mist. “Y-you?” she yelled. “What— how are you— I’m sorry? Say that again? You’re a Collector?”
“What? Pfft! Of course not, that would be ridiculous!” Charon waved off the accusation, before leaning in. “Okay, but maybe I do one or two shifts when he’s not looking.”
Kamali gaped.
“He’s been more unstable than usual these days. Partially my fault, really. Did you know that every person who ends up possessing the Collector’s body leaves an imprint of their own Rules and Roles onto it? Using his Manipulator Role against him was a novel experience, I’ll say. Had some real fun making his emotions a little more intense in all the right places, without him being any the wiser.” Charon spread his arms out, shrugging. “Now, I’ve never taken the body in full, so Avrom doesn’t have my abilities. I just take, you know, just a tiny sliver of control so he won’t notice. Gotten quite good at it, enough that I could overcome him well before he could bring up his defenses, given the right circumstances. I do confess that own abilities in subterfuge and secrecy make all of this much, much easier—”
“What?”
Charon turned his head, examining Kamali’s pallid face. “Ah, sorry, might’ve gotten too chatty there,” he said. “To the chase then? I’ve been planning out the Collector’s demise, and a certain little girl’s murder, if you’ll pardon my callous words, has made for a perfect opportunity. Everyone’s angry, and the Collector’s seldom ever suffered from instability like he does now. Makes him all the easier to toy with. And what will we do with that? Put him in a situation where he’s vulnerable to being hijacked, and where I can assume control.”
Kamali was staring at a madman. A methodical maniac. A scrupulous schemer of a serpent. Or maybe, that was just the cockroach in her having an allergic reaction to indirect assassination. “You want to kill the Collector,” she repeated, “and thus kill us all.”
“Free us all,” Charon corrected. “Dear girl, it’s only a little tyrannicide. Now I’m not so heartless as to just do us in immediately, I’ll hold on to the body and do a little cleanup work while you all take your time to adjust, but I do plan on destroying the body afterward. For everyone’s safety.”
Kamali felt herself squirming inside, her spiritual body feeling like it should’ve been drenched in sweat. “H-how many?” she whispered. Who else had been put in this gray fog and were told about this conspiracy?
Charon gave a sweeping motion with his hand. “More than enough folks to make a difference,” was his answer. “The Collector won’t notice, I’ve embedded our secret too deep into their minds for them to notice — but they’ll know what to do, when the time comes to make our move. And I believe, dear girl, that you might be amicable to helping us carry out the deed.”
“I-I don’t—”
“You’re questioning the necessity of this, I know.” Charon let himself drift around in the enclosed space, arms folded. “Avrom is unreliable. And someday, another will usurp him. We’ll all live on, changing owners and slowly degrading until we join the Broken — there’s no real eternal life here. Only that accursed body will survive till the ends of time, or at least until somebody else decides to take matters into their own hands. What if Beastmaster managed to take the body and turn us into his personal weapon? Or if another one of the Four Horsemen used us, or another Calamity Walker? Have you any idea about how much havoc this body will cause, and for how long?”
It was amazing, how Charon could speak in such a detached way about this. But Spirit Empathy told her otherwise, hinting at the rage within him. And other murky emotions, difficult to interpret — there was a gray mist over the very core of his soul, veiling it from Kamali’s senses.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Charon wanted a transfer of power, along with a hastened end to the Collector for good. At least, that was what he said. How much of it was the truth was another question, but it put a rising conflict in Kamali. Didn’t Charon have a point? Wasn’t it better, for the Collector to be gone? One less problem for the world to face? The Collector was a latent threat after all — an undying being with the potential for grave evil, whom anyone could weaponize for themselves if they wished. And although her life was prolonged through him, Kamali had already recognized it wasn’t truly eternal. At some point, she’d be doomed to fall.
But if she went along with this, she’d die much sooner than later. And Charon didn’t strike Kamali as somebody she wanted to rely on, not with his behavior and all. Besides, how moral was this course of action? The thought of assisting in murder made her sick inside.
And again, by doing this, she’d be killing herself. The cockroach in her thrashed against that thought. It refused.
“Now I understand your hesitance,” said Charon, and Kamali noted he couldn’t exactly hear her thoughts — not with the connection they had to the spirit network cut off by the gray mist. “I will say, the Collector’s wish for you to free us spirits did surprise me. One of his more thoughtful moments, of which he has rather few. But surely you understand you’ll join the Broken too someday, yes? A band aid solution won’t—”
“No.”
Charon paused at the rejection, sizing up Kamali as she stared back with steely eyes. “No?”
“You want my help. I don’t think I can give it.”
“Oh, I don’t really need your help, little lady. Like I said, I have plenty of volunteers, just as sick of this wretched existence as I am. Still, you’re bright enough to see the necessity of this, aren’t you now? Your abilities would be a welcome asset in distracting the Collector when the time comes to end this curse—”
“No!” Kamali shook her head. Some part of her wondered what Charon might do to her in order to keep his ploy intact, but she couldn’t make herself do this. “No. This doesn’t feel like a better solution. What about those other spirits that want to stay and live on with the Collector, like Earl? You can’t force them to perish against their will, that’s not fair to them.”
“Oh, don’t tell me you want to join the idiot loyalists. And here I thought you were a partner, someone who understood how badly the Collector needs someone opposing him and challenging his choices in life.” Charon made a tsking noise. “What happened to that girl that I thought I could confide in about anything?”
Kamali nearly spat out a seething response, before her face scrunched up. She cast her Spirit Empathy on herself, batting an eye when it worked — and she felt an anger within her, unnaturally fueled. Partly hers, partly anothers.
“You’re manipulating me.” Kamali slowly recast her gaze on a stock-still Charon. “You’re using Avrom’s abilities on me, aren’t you? You want me provoked.”
Charon stared hard at her. No words passed through his mask.
“Yeah, no.” Kamali sat down as calmly as she could. Had Charon been doing this to the other spirits? That was beyond messed up. “Whatever you’re doing, it can’t be a noble cause, not if—”
Something twisted. Her head spun.
Kamali slumped for a moment, before blinking. Spirits were chatting amongst their groups all over the rock island, the purple mist claiming the sky around her. Jarsh, for some baffling reason, was standing over her with his dull eyes. Head bent, hands behind his back, the usual.
She had no idea where Jarsh had come from. Or what she was doing here, away from Freya. Had she left her, and if so, why had she done that? Had she been trying to take a trance-like nap or something? Why do such a thing in the center of the rock island, anyway?
Kamali scratched her head, her memory drawing a massive blank. A voice nagged at her that something was off, but nothing more came to mind. Just a headache for her struggles.
Weird. Maybe it was nothing though?
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“Kamali! Get up, Kamali! You need to see this.”
Kamali had decided to take a much more proper rest, going into a trance after returning to Dahlia, Nina, Myra, and Freya. Not for very long, though — Nina had started shaking her awake, Kamali blinking in confusion. The other spirits were chattering over each other, Kamali unable to make out anything from their noise. “Huh?” she muttered.
“The Collector! He—” Nina shook her head. “Just look.”
And look Kamali did, frowning at the starry night sky the Collector was staring at. “It’s dark out,” she said in a flat voice. “Nina, I don’t know what you want from me—”
The Collector tilted his head back down, and Kamali gasped.
Elystra City. She’d learned that it had once been a rather large outpost, built into a fortress of sorts for those wandering around this part of the continent. It still gave off that feeling, with sturdy walls with a level of construction that was far bulkier and better built compared to Virala and Gordius Town. Probably better manned too, though in the dark, Kamali couldn’t spot any soldiers. Towers helped reinforce the walls at intervals. A citadel-like structure loomed further back, the main keep of the city that supposedly had large courtyards, the homes of the well-off, and a small palace for Lord Terrence himself.
“What?” Kamali pulled on Nina’s arm. To the side, she caught wind of Myra, a glazed-eyed Freya, and Dahlia, the latter as amazed as she was. “Why are we here? Why would the Collector be here?”
Her head felt light. At first Kamali took it to be from the shock of being near the city, a place she never imagined Collector would go to after their previous conversation — but then she blinked as her form grew wispy, a sense of vertigo overcoming her as something pulled at her torso. Her body began to distort, making Nina smirk. “Uh?” said Kamali. “What’s happening?”
“Never felt it before, Shaman girl, ain’t that right? Avrom’s summoning you.”
“He’s what now?”
Something dragged her, and Kamali yelled as she felt her being ripped through dimensions. Her world transitioned from the violet hues of the Collector’s prison to the silent darkness of a calm night before a looming disaster, the girl flopping onto rocky soil and slumping painlessly. The walls of Elystra City rose from a great distance away, the Collector observing it with his arms folded.
Briefly did he appraise her, the girl lying at his feet. “Surprised?” he said. “I’ve changed my mind. We’re going to make Beastmaster rue the day he crossed paths with me.”