Collected
Chapter 7
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“So you were planning to be a Historian!”
“Never said that,” Kamali muttered.
“I mean, if you were so interested in history—”
“Nina,” snapped Dahlia.
Nina, a rosy-colored spirit with a mouth that gushed out words like a river, gave a sheepish smile. Their trio sat on a cliffside jutting out of the main stone island in the Collector’s prison, away from all the other spirits conversing with each other. The Collector himself was currently in motion — using his eyes, Kamali watched as he sprinted through a rocky, rugged series of hilly terrain, passing by sparse groupings of trees and berry-laden bushes. Dawn had just come about, the sun shyly peeking over the horizon.
Spirits didn’t really sleep, but as it turned out, they could fall into trances, their minds left to fog up and wander about in various tangents and idle thoughts. Almost like dreaming. A pity that it wasn’t a dream, that she really was dead and stuck with the Collector—
“But seriously! You gotta be shooting for something if you’ve got a nifty Academic Role! Could never make myself go through that life, honestly, studying’s such a pain!”
—and Nina. A perky, talkative girl a few years older than Kamali, but with a face and height of someone younger. Really, though, what was up with that? Even in undeath, she couldn’t escape short females with too much personality!
“Like that’s why I stuck with the family business, you know, being an Innkeeper’s easy stuff! Don’t have to be book-smart to—”
“I wanted to be an Accountant,” Kamali cut in. “Or a Translator.”
“Oh.” Nina pursed her lips. “Ooh, so math and finance and language stuff! You know multiple languages? I mean, almost everybody knows the common tongue, so I’m pretty sure Translator’s a dying field—”
God, this was why she was an introvert.
The Collector was headed in a roundabout path to Gordius Town, where the Fervent Indulgent’s warband were headed on their way to Elystra City. There, another round of looting, plundering, and criminal evils would be carried out. And the Collector would be there to have his feast.
Kamali abhorred the thought. The Collector, as it turned out, was not a complete fiend. That much she’d learned when he gave her the tall task of gaining a Rule that could let her free spirits from his body — how she’d start whittling away at that, she had no clue. Her Father would’ve helped her, but—
Nope. Never mind that. What was she thinking about? Oh right, the Collector wasn’t a complete fiend. But he was still letting the Fervent Indulgent live, only choosing to sabotage them in secret. And he was still taking more souls.
Kamali had started to sense his hunger. A peckish sensation, right in the gut. Not starving, but still looking for snacks, or even a small buffet. Sure, the Collector had no choice but to eat, and she’d one day be able to free his captured souls, but was this right? Especially when the souls he took came from the Fervent Indulgent’s misdeeds, which he had the power to stop?
“—like it’s too late now since we’re dead and whatever, but yeah, Accountant’s better by a long shot, and when I say long shot, I’m talking about a supercharged siege catapult of doom here, and hey, you still listening, Shaman girl who came out of magical retirement? Hey!”
Dahlia harshly prodded Nina, beginning to chide her, to Kamali’s relief. She noticed the Collector had idly turned his head toward a slender, four-legged beast darting amongst the boulders and rocky hills. A monster? Kamali paid close attention to its shape—
A strangled yell tore out of her throat as the giant fire salamander paused, its skin a bright patchwork of black and red hues. Creepy frog-like eyes stared back at the Collector, but it seemed like they stared straight past, right into Kamali’s soul. “Ash-covered blight!” she cursed, panting for air she didn’t need. Her nose clogged itself, overwhelmed by the stench of fire and smoke. Of burned wood and charred corpses.
Nina had gone wide-eyed, hands over her mouth. “Dear?” Dahlia said, holding her arm even as Kamali scrambled back, as if her movements would somehow make the Collector move back as well. “You needn’t fear, it’s just—”
Dahlia paused. The Collector did as well, squinting at the beast. It made a gurgling sound, foolishly trying to intimidate the devourer of souls — and successfully doing so to the latest of his victims instead, Kamali shrieking at the noise. Her arms went up to block a flame that didn’t exist.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Eseelis Village.” Dahlia shook her head. “Oh, you poor thing, I knew that name was familiar.”
Nina’s wide eyes went wider, beginning to understand. The Collector huffed, before pulling out an orange spirit, basking in its glow. The next moment, he’d blurred right beside the salamander, sword in hand, and sliced the creature’s head off. It gurgled for a brief moment and kicked, before slumping to its side. “Invasive species, these troublemakers,” Kamali heard the Collector mutter. “Isn’t there a story behind it, Silas?”
Some adventurers disturbed one of their grounds in the wetlands east of here, an aging man’s voice came, slaughtering a large number and making the rest flee far away. Heard those ones became extremely jumpy and hostile to everything — caused a few incidents, I believe.
It took a while for Kamali’s mind to settle, the sight of the dead fire salamander helping a little there. “Careless fools,” spat the Collector. “Children do not deserve such misery.”
Kamali’s throat burned. She gave a numb nod, dimly aware of Dahlia squeezing her shoulder. Nina slowly got up, stepping away.
“Maybe, uh, I should come another time?” she said.
Voices consoled her, Broken and sane alike. The Collector moved onward, Kamali catching him glancing back at the slain fire salamander. She swallowed.
Well, it couldn’t hurt her now, at least. Not much could. Eseelis Village was gone, Virala Town was razed, but what was it that people said? Third time’s the charm? She had what may as well be an eternity to spend with her fellow spirits, just as nigh-untouchable as her.
The cockroach in her liked that.
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Kamali had eventually recovered, and not a moment too soon. Gordius Town was close now, as was the Fervent Indulgent’s raiding party. They’d left breadcrumbs behind in the form of waste, both trash and… otherwise.
Kamali knelt in the grass, making a face at the splinters and broken pieces of a crate left behind. With defecation inside. It looked a lot like someone had answered the call of nature on a rather spontaneous whim. She turned away, toward another leftover pile of feces hidden amongst the grass, and felt grateful that spirits didn’t need to walk. Or worry about getting dirty either.
“They’re actual degenerates,” she said.
“Is that so surprising?” the Collector said, moving away from a pile of emptied bottles left behind alongside a dirt path, winding between the rocky hills and trees. He had been unamused when Kamali had summoned herself to the outside world, with the excuse of wanting to practice her Shaman-related powers, but let the act slide. “They are of the Four Horsemen. On a cardinal compass of alignment, they are corruption taken to its extremes, just as their rivals, the Purity’s Whimsy, are purity gone too far. It is only natural that the Fervent Indulgent is composed of the vilest scum, the sort who find pleasure in doing the foulest acts they can. This act of defiling the land, it is but a typical morning for them.
“That said, I’ll point out that Beastmaster leads this group. He’s known for making armies out of monsters and bestial forces — see these droppings here? Dog droppings, from his hounds.” The Collector gestured at the crud beside his feet. “Last I checked, hounds do not think of hygienic practices when doing their business.”
Fair enough. Kamali got to her feet, watching as the Collector pulled out a yellow spirit from inside him, casting him in its light. From the Collector’s eyes, Kamali saw his vision shift, and gasped as she beheld a swarm of grotesque forces. Dark-garbed bandits, shuffling amongst bloated purple humanoids, with some mounted upon the big-mouthed hounds. Horses of a blemished brown hue, with claw-like nails that had burst out of their hues and bladed horns on their foreheads, dragging along wagons full of supplies. And Beastmaster himself, caressing one of Dupemaw’s necks, the two-headed and eight-legged wolf leaning into the touch.
A grin adorned his face, filled with exhilaration. One many of his fellows shared. The gates of Gordius Town had entered their sights, and their group cackled with discordant cheer. One of their men had cast some Rule, engulfing them in light, and the group charged onward with unnatural speed. Beastmaster moved to the forefront, raising his firearm and firing at the gate.
The explosion could be distantly heard even with Kamali’s own ears. “Oh no,” she said.
Evil incarnate.
Murderers! Scum of earth!
Hate!
Why raid?
They spread hurt. Hurt back?
The Collector hissed, clutching his head as the Broken grew frenzied, and ended the vision. “It is as good as theirs,” he said with a growl. “Perhaps there will be souls to save, though.”
“If you can call what you do to souls ‘saving,’” said Kamali.
“Depends. Either way, I’m afraid I must sustain myself. But for your sake, Shaman, perhaps we’ll make a few extra ‘accidents’ for the Fervent Indulgent, hm?”
An offer meant to appease her. “Trying to get on my good side?”
“Wouldn’t be wise if I didn’t.” Kamali sensed the Collector smiling at her. “You may as well be my heiress, with the power you’ll one day hold. Perhaps you would do better, were you to swap places with me?”
Being the Collector herself? Kamali thought of it, and instantly felt grateful she wasn’t him, too horrified by the burdens it would impose on her. She allowed the Collector to pull her spirit back into him, mist appearing around her as she fell from the sky of his prison realm.
She managed a clumsy flop to the ground of the main rocky island, yet again thankful that she couldn’t feel physical pain. To her surprise, Charon was the one and only spirit nearby, a bitter chortle escaping the shrouded man.
He turned his masked head toward her. “Try not to bleed your heart out too much for the townsfolk,” he said in a cold tone. “You’ll only hurt yourself in the process. On the bright side, new roommates are always a pleasure, aren’t they?”
He walked away without a care in the world. Kamali frowned as he approached another spirit and began whispering to him. The Collector had just crested a hill, she noted, getting a small glimpse of Gordius Town ahead. Its gate was smashed open, and smoke billowed out from somewhere within the town. Screams rang in the distance.
Despite Charon’s words, she couldn’t help but hope the town would come out of this disaster better than Virala Town did.