A horse galloped through the woods, following a rough path twisting around trees and mossy rock overhangs, up and down countless hills. Its hooves trampled on the wet earth, flinging it back and stirring the air in a rich musty scent.
In the front rode an older man clenching its reins tightly, while to his back clung a younger man who wore a white sleeveless tunic.
His black hair was short and his physique skinny, struggling to hold on. They were Deus and that other self, calling themselves ‘Bal’.
The forest’s canopy was thick, obscuring nearly all twilight which shone down on them. In the slight light, Bal’s pale skin glistened strangely, still retaining some of that viscous black liquid’s moisture.
Deus gritted his teeth, Soon, night will completely swallow all sun’s rays. By then, even with the night sky’s greenish light, it won’t be able to pierce the canopy.
His gaze tilted towards his linen shirt, which hadn’t yet dried completely.
If it’s dark, we won’t be able to follow the path, and I’ll be at risk of hypothermia. Especially with these moist conditions and my damp attire, the coldness’s danger will be exacerbated.
Although I’ve already set a door right outside the forest with my [ Liminal Gateway ] ability, the horse will need to rest for a few hours. By then, all the forces left behind in the Duchy of Crowley will have caught up.
Just as these thoughts passed through his mind, the sun’s last light shone from the horizon, where the wilderness’s veils thinned.
“We’ve arrived!” shouted Deus loudly, alerting Bal who’d dozed off slightly. He sensed his clutched tightening, while Bal’s eyes narrowed.
As they neared the forest’s edge, the path grew wider and transitioned into cobblestone. Deus tugged at the rein, signaling for the horse to halt.
It panted heavily and staggered, nearly collapsing under its own weight. It was evident it had exerted itself severely with little respite and sustenance.
Below them, they beheld a valley which encased a large city. Terraced fields which grew crops led down to a brick gate from which a wall surrounded it. At the heart of the city stood a cathedral, its clocktower towering high above all rooftops.
Deus carefully dismounted the horse, his mind a little dizzy from its flailing. As the younger man followed suit, Deus eyed him suspiciously.
It had been a few hours since Bal had sprung from his body and strangled him in a blur of confusion and instinct. Although Bal was similarly skinny and slightly disoriented, his emergence strained Deus both physically and mentally. He was at the mercy of Bal.
However, he’d soon regained clarity and given up, lying besides Deus.
Later, after looting all that remained and finding a single horse tangled to the front wagon, they’d begun riding into the direction of the train station.
Just like Monte had predicted, after crossing the border leading to the Duchy of Kern, their path soon diverged apart from the fields and into temperate rainforests.
Deus had analyzed, If we stay here any longer, we’ll be on the chopping block. The countryside’s population is sparse, and strangers are easily recognized.
However, riding the entire distance to Novaston via horse would take weeks.
Finally, he decided to stay on track with their original plan — to use the train to flee to Novaston. Their enemies were bound to predict this possibility and set up plans to interject them. However, this was a risk he was willing to take.
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Deus sighed deeply, According to these floating words which materialized when I assimilated the Firmament of Monte and Mariel, my soul has fractured into myself and this ‘Bal’.
Even if I set aside the skill [ Conjoined Fate ], of which its range of effects I’m uncertain of, the fracturing of my soul or self might imply some link between our bodies, even in death. If Bal turns on me, what am I going to do?
It was rather imprecise to call [ Conjoined Fate ] a skill, but rather a restriction imparted into both their souls. After probing, they learned it restricted the distance between their bodies.
After around twenty meters, they would sense a slight discomfort rising from whereunder the navel lay — the soul! Another twenty meters, and the pain would be unbearable.
The most effective way of investigating this issue is to return to this state in which I’m able to observe my bodies and soul just like I did in the St. Plors Church.
His teeth began grinding mildly as he noted a problem with this, However, finding my soul’s vibration required the deprivation of all my senses while conjuring the bodies required the assistance of that entity to which I prayed to.
“What’s up?” asked Bal curiously, pointing out his contemplative state. His eyebrows were raised and his expression calm, oblivious to Deus’s murderous thoughts.
However, Deus was unsure whether this was but a guise to deceive him. After all, he was his ‘Fractured Self’, and it was logical to assume his acting skills were on par with his own.
Nonetheless, the opposite — that he was truly genuine — was feasible as well. After all, during his dormant state, he’d seriously shown signs of empathy and naïvety, such as when telling him to save that infant. This would burden Deus and implicate himself.
“I’m just musing how to proceed,” answered Deus calmly, masking his bloodlust perfectly. He took a deep breath, as if preparing himself to utter his next few words.
“I’m thinking we should get rid of the horse.”
“W-Wait, what?!”
Deus wasn’t swayed, continuing his train-of-thought from before, I shouldn’t haphazardly pray to that entity. I don’t know how often it will help me or what it will demand in return; only when my life is threatened is asking for his assistance appropriate.
Meanwhile, his eyes were droopy and his shoulders slouched.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve thought about it for a long time, but I can’t think of any other solution. What do you think?”
Bal gulped. He glanced at Deus nervously, hesitated, then uttered, “We should set him free.”
Deus extended his hand, pointing at the city which lay below. “The mud conceals our scent and footsteps. However, if we set the horse free, they will discover it and the forces chasing us will recognize it. It’s a clue they’ll use to track us down.”
“T-Then what about your chain, my tunic and that dagger? It belongs to that guy sprawled to the ground. Why are you so confident they won’t locate us based on that?”
Deus sighed. “Bal, I’m sorry. All decisions are tough. We’ll have to weigh the advantages and disadvantages — how else are we going to defend ourselves?”
Bal pursed his lips, “Then let’s sell it! That’ll cover our tracks.”
Deus stepped forward, wrapping his arms around his body. Tears welled in his eyes. Oddly enough, the longer he spent engaging with Bal, the more he began reminiscing of his past.
However, only a faint sense of nostalgia permeated the thick veil which obscured it. Was Bal a fragment of his past self?
He’d certainly heard isolation could rapidly break down a person while the subconscious was autonomous — did his mind purposefully suppress this ‘other self’ to protect its existence?
“That’s what they’re expecting. I don’t want to do this either,” Deus pulled back slightly, “Believe me, we’re in the same boat. Are we willing to put our lives on the line for a horse?”
He understood that emotions, which were conveyed via body language, were infectious. This was the essence of acting.
He also understood that he would spend his next few weeks, months, or even years with Bal because of [ Conjoined Fate ], depending on how fast he’d be able to fix this.
Therefore, it was of the highest priority to mold his personality according to several factors, such as respect, obedience, and willingness to break free from societal expectations. As far as he was concerned, the horse no longer had any purpose but to aid him in this process.
This was the first step; to uproot his morality, make him question everything. Then, by providing clear answers, create a dependence and loyalty — to be a light within the darkness.
At the same time, they were bonded by enemies. This was key; when all else is hostile, there was only one person to turn to — himself!
However, this was not done easily. It was necessary for Bal to be consciously engaged, such as for him to carry responsibility. As the popular idiom goes, ‘Action speaks louder than words.’.