Her bare feet strode calmly across the cool, damp stone. The feeling didn’t bother at all. It was like touching another part of her body, something she was so used to that it didn’t even register anymore. And the path itself had been worn flat and smooth from so many trips over the years.
How long had it been? She had no idea. Time was fleeting from her perspective. A minute could feel like a month and centuries would pass in the blink of an eye. She could see no sun to mark the days, though she always felt its warmth on her skin.
In this dark cave, the only source of light came from those that she made—glowing etches streaking down the sides of the tunnel. Sadly, she had never been able to experience the man-made conveniences for illuminating a space. None ever survived the trip.
The woman’s steps ended at the shore of a pond with luminescent algae in the water so that she could see what laid deep in the murky depths. A slow waterfall on the other side often brought trinkets and oddities from the outside world, the world she hadn’t seen in a quite long time.
Today was more of the same—which was to say that it was all trash—tossed aside and forgotten, serving no one and nothing, only polluting Rathe with its existence. But to her, it was all she had, so it may as well have been as valuable as silver.
She placed her flat hand on the water’s surface and the pond began to bubble. All the garbage in the water floated to the top and drifted over to her side of the shore. The woman began picking it up and taking stock. There were a few cans and bottles, plastic rings to bind them together. That was typical for her haul.
But to her surprise, there was also an unblemished paint kit sealed in a water-tight box. Some artist must have lost it overboard painting on the deck of a ship—so she imagined. Or maybe it had fallen into the water from yet another sunken vessel. It had been quite some time since there’d been proper naval battles, but a few still were sent to the bottom of the ocean from piracy and accidents.
As a result, her trash, or tributes as she liked to call them, had slowed down in recent years. But there was always something. It didn’t matter if it took days or decades, everything that was lost eventually made its way to her.
Unfortunately, there were no barrels to store all of the items. She received them quite often, rusted or otherwise, from the neglect of humans. But there was some ragged netting today that she could use to pack up her haul. Satisfied with the day’s work, she hoisted the makeshift bag over her shoulder and began the trek back home.
Well, it was all her home, the entire network of caves and paths, but there was a central chamber that she treated as a house of her own. She took care of it, keeping it clean and tidy, often rearranging it to ease her boredom. The woman wanted it to always look pristine in case guests came by for a surprise visit.
Her last guest had been a little rude and feisty, but only so much could be expected from a human teenager. Since the woman couldn’t count the years, she didn’t know how old that girl would be now, but she’d have to be at least middle aged by this point—or she would have been, if she was still alive. Hopefully her next guests would be a bit more polite and friendly.
On the walk back, the woman suddenly grasped at her chest and doubled over in pain, but the agony quickly subsided. Though now she felt drained, a great portion of her power drained from her in that moment. It wasn’t too bad. She’d be back to her strength soon after a bit of rest, but she’d feel weary for the rest of the day.
“So another Fiend was born,” she spoke to no one, not even a paltry insect as she resumed her walk. “What interesting circumstances. And they’re now cursed to a body made of ice. I’m so sorry. No one deserves that fate.”
Normally, the woman disdained the idea that their superpowers were called Curses, since they were blessings from her after all—pieces of her own power that were stripped from her very existence. They should feel more grateful, not that any of them knew the source for now.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
But there were a select few that she regretted, genuinely cursed to unnatural existences that she’d never want to inflict upon anyone. Though she had no conscious choice anymore. The formula to create Fiends could no longer be altered.
That was one of her biggest regrets. If she could, she’d go back and change the wording significantly and make it far more specific and conditional. She never would have expected that so many would be born based on the rules that she laid out, not fully comprehending the nature of humans to make the same sacrifice time and time again.
“Is this the world that you wanted, father?” She spoke to the one person who could possibly hear her, though she had no idea if he was listening. “A world of chaos beyond my control to fix? That’s the path you paved the way for when you put a curse of your own on me.”
The woman didn’t expect any response. Damning her father’s name had become her main hobby after all, so he’d likely tuned her out some time ago. Maybe someday she’d forgive him, if she ever learned that lesson that he’d tried to force upon her. It still had yet to really sink in. But she was expectant, hopeful that all of her suffering would soon bear fruit.
When she made it back to the main chamber, she stared at the door that sealed her away from the outside world. That was not how he’d cursed her, but rather her own choice. This cave was a prison of her own making, a way of repentance to keep herself from making the same mistakes of the past.
The door could only be opened from the outside. Normally, it required a special key, but the last visitor had been allowed to enter without it, given a one time exception. However, the woman was committed to leaving herself sealed until that door was opened properly, and hopefully left open so that she may be able to walk out and be free once more.
What resulted in the meantime was a lonely existence, but she had her ways to stay connected, to know what was going on in the world around her. Things had been getting rather interesting lately, and they made her hopeful that she’d get visitors soon. Though, she may have put a few events in motion to hopefully guide their hands.
For now, though, she’d just have to wait patiently, and indulge herself in whatever hobbies came to mind. The woman strolled over to a set of shelves that hung over a handmade dresser, one she’d crafted from crude driftwood but had countless time to polish and perfect.
On the dresser and shelves were an assortment of dolls, each resembling very specific and eccentric figures. There was one for every Fiend that had been born. In a way, they were like her descendants, since they each had a part of her power inside of them.
The woman didn’t bother making Lessers, an apt name in her mind. They had such a small fraction of her existence that it was barely more than the dust of Rathe used to create them in the first place. But she took joy in crafting the Fiend dolls, constructing them from the various knick knacks and garbage that found their way to her.
And now that she had some paints, she could add a lot more finite details to the recently created ones that had been a bit neglected. One of the parts she loved so much about the Fiends were their array of colors. They were fun to make, and even more fun to look at the vibrant spectrum. It had been a great choice on her part, even if the original colors were only supposed to be black and white.
After a bit of adjustment of the past dolls, she began construction on the new Fiend that had just been born. “Both ice colored hair and eyes. I think that’s the first time the two have ever matched. Well I guess except for that rebirthing anomaly.”
Another regret in her eyes. Some of the powers were a bit too strong in her opinion and could possibly prove problematic since it meant they’d essentially live forever. But she still had to hold out hope. Since they’d be around for a while, maybe they could someday find common ground—possibly even peers, or dare she hope, friends.
One thing that she hadn’t come to regret, though, was Greaters. The woman’s eyes drifted to the very top shelf where four dolls sat, towering above all the others. In that instance, she really only wanted to give the upgrade to one of them, but couldn’t figure out how to do it without giving it to all four.
Still, that had been a much better, much cleaner, edict on her part, even if it had left her weak and miserable for months. The wording had been a lot more concise and exclusionary, so much that another Greater had yet to ascend since the original batch. Maybe one or two would make the cut eventually after really proving themselves worthy of such a gift, but she doubted that it would be any time soon.
It was certainly a step up from the mess that Fiends had become. Ultimately, it had all been for just one individual, but it had been diluted so much that they may never know just how special they were in her eyes.
The woman grabbed one of the dolls off the top shelf and hugged it tight. “I did this all for you, so when are you going to come visit me, Drim?”