Dwindle had been revived from death by an artifact Nasset had deemed priceless and invaluable. Could a street urchin of The Hole have something similar? No, that wouldn’t make sense. So, how was Tatters revived?
“Men,” Brudo grunted, waving his men forward. “Show our guest the hospitality of the Goddess’ Lair.” Before the goons could make their move, Tatters disappeared in a burst, his chair exploding into pieces of firewood. Reappearing in front of Red, he punched with fists aglow in dark energy. “Stop using the power, junior!” Brudo demanded.
Numerous gasps and shrieks sounded as the door was blasted open and Red was propelled out of the room, crashing onto the floor outside. The sound of footsteps and the glow of dark red made him look up to see Tatters walking leisurely to him.
“I feel…strong!” Tatters cackled, his beady eyes shimmering with dark red light. Red came back into focus and he asked, “Do I know you?”
“Tatters,” Red coughed out, pain branching out around from where he was punched. “What happened to you?”
Tatters sighed with immense relief as he ripped the bandages cover his ears. The sound in his world had returned. The strange power he had been given had miraculous properties, somehow healing his deafness. Brudo had felt guilty about Tatters' inability to achieve vengeance on the elf that had ruined his hearing. As an amiable senior gangster, he allowed his junior to receive a power that the White Scale Viper gang had recently gained access to.
“Tatters?” Red repeated, thinking the rat faced young man still couldn’t hear.
“I don’t know who you are,” Tatters admitted, “or why you would attack me unprovoked. But you made a grave mistake, friend.”
Red stood up, holding his aching abdomen. “It’s me, Red.”
“Huh, my old friend,” Tatters said, staring at Red’s new face. “It seems we’ve both changed.” His image blurred with dark mana and he sped up to Red before he began to beat on him relentlessly. However, soon his punches hit only air, his target had slipped away.
Tatters’ beady eyes tracked down Red speeding along the wall as if he were a spider, then spheres of blue light glinted in the air before Tatters realized they were energy blasts. He imbued mana and blitzed toward Red, dodging the blasts which were oddly predictable. It was like Red didn’t think or aim, blasting away in panic.
“Junior!” Brudo barked, but Tatters gave him no acknowledgement. Brudo redirected his attention to the other members of the gang and ordered, "Evacuate the floor and ensure no one else comes. Make sure no one sees Tatters or his power." The members nodded in agreement and swiftly scattered. Brudo couldn't help but smirk as he gazed at the ongoing fight. Seeing how the power had amplified Tatters' strength, Brudo couldn't help but imagine how much more powerful he himself, being stronger than Tatters, could become.
As Tatters swiped at Red, he said, “And to think you killed so many of us when we attacked you in The Hole.” Red stumbled backward. “The ability to imbue mana truly does make a difference, don’t you agree?”
Red revved up his speed, but Tatters intercepted him, launching a brutal attack that sent him hurtling across the floor. The follow up strike hit Red hard, sending him into a wall and leaving a gaping crater. Tatters closed in on him again, landing a punch to his stomach that made Red spew out saliva. Air distorted around him as Red wrapped himself in mana and unleashed a blast, but it missed its mark entirely. Before he could react, Tatters countered with a vicious slap that sent Red crashing to the ground. Tatters' rat-like face contorted into a wicked grin, relishing in the thrill of his domination.
At the stairs, the bodies of gang members were scattered like vegetables in a garden, while a tall woman stood amidst them like a scarecrow. Nasset arrived just in time to witness the scene, her face contorted with disbelief. She watched as Red was brutally beaten by a young man with rat-like features, leaving her stunned.
Red was taking a thrashing from the rat-faced youth, who attacked him with swift and merciless swings, each blow leaving Red bloodied and bruised. However, after carefully observing the rhythm of the attacks, Red finally found a gap, an opening in which he could launch a counterattack.
Nasset knew it was useless however. Despite Red's opponent being an obvious amateur, she could clearly see he possessed more experience. Tatters had spent his life in The Hole, where daily struggles for survival honed his fighting skills, though they were rough in Nasset’s trained eyes. Having fought for meager morsels of food, Tatters had experienced numerous occasions where it was either kill or be killed. Red had his mother, who had provided for him, while Tatters had only himself to rely on.
Tatters mixed up his pattern, stalling for a moment, feinting, and allowing Red to swing at air. He then punched Red directly on the nose in a counter, causing blood to spurt out of Red's nostrils like geysers. A cackle rang across the entire floor as Tatters laughed and Red flew into the railing surrounding the opening in the center, toppling it over with half his body precariously hanging over the edge. The revelers below, lost in the music, were oblivious to the young man on the verge of falling and abruptly halting their merriment.
Is this the man who will grant me a strong bloodline, father? Nasset wondered with frustration. She couldn’t possibly think of Red copulating with her. She could never debase herself in such a way with a man who couldn’t win against an amateur. Alas, Nasset couldn’t let him die. He was important to her father and she would be punished if she allowed him to die without intervening.
Red was in a daze but came to in time to see he was dangling from an edge of a perilous drop. He scrambled frantically to get to his feet only to be brought back down as his throat was pressed into by a boot. Tatters stood on his neck with a look of triumph.
“Did you know I was scared of you, my old friend?” Tatters said, smiling maliciously down at Red. “When I saw you rip apart Big Boss’ men on that rainy day, I thought you were a demon. I couldn’t sleep after.” Red wheezed as he struggled to breathe. “Now look at you. No wonder why the upper districts looks down on us slum rats, Red.” The dark glow around him strengthened as his eyes shimmered. “The ability to imbue mana makes you feel like a god. Anyone who can’t is like a thoughtless beast whose only use is to be slaughtered.”
Tatters saw dust on his silk tunic, causing him to flick off the dirt. His precious clothes, oh, how much he loved his lovely garments.
Kill him, a voice said.
Tatters’ eyes squinted in confusion, looking to Red who was clawing at the boot closing his throat. “What did you say, Red?”
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Murder him. Eat him. Consume his soul. Rip his flesh into pieces.
“Who’s talking?” Tatters shouted, looking around but found no one near them. He stared back at Red, bewildered. “Is it you?” He asked, incredulous. “How are you talking in my head?”
Taste his flesh. Take his eyes. Pull out his tongue. Feed on his ears.
“Silence, Red!” Tatters screamed, a tinge of madness entering his black eyes. The dark mana surrounding him grew and with it, the power of the voice.
KILL HIM. TAKE HIS ESSENCE. DEVOUR HIS BEING.
Tatters opened his mouth and a bestial roar came out of his throat. He no longer sounded human. From afar, Brudo looked on with apprehension, unable to guess what had come over his junior.
The ceiling above Tatters disappeared as a sky of black grew. Lights ran across the black sky endlessly, spinning around and around. He could see no moon or sun, only an ever revolving world that went on without him. His eyes fell to a mirror standing at the edge of the blackness of this forlorn place, in the mirror he saw a scaly creature staring back at him. It beckoned him, promising Tatters power the likes of which he never imagined. All he needed to do was open the mirror and let it out.
Under Tatters’ boot, Red’s vision blurred. He couldn’t last much longer. He needed to breathe, but Tatters looked as if he had lost his mind. Red would die if he couldn’t get the boot off his neck.
Nearby, Nasset’s face tattoo glowed as she took aim at the roaring Tatters, her fists glowing with blue light. Red had purpled and death seemed to be approaching him. She couldn’t let that happen, not without completing her mission, or at least convincing her father to reconsider what he asked of her. She opened her hand and pointed her palm at Tatters, light swirling into a sphere that gathered in her hand.
The Badlander woman abruptly stopped her actions, her eyes squinting as she shielded them from a sudden and intense gleam of golden light.
“Miss, you cannot be here,” a stern looking man rebuked, holding a hand up to a masked woman in a gown attempting to enter a door.
Rose pouted and stamped her foot. Another brothel guard had stopped her from entering a prohibited area. She had attempted to breach past the perimeter of the hall to find clues on the whereabouts of Red’s friend, but she kept being found out. Her blue eyes wandered the hall, watching everyone lose themselves as they reveled in the lively atmosphere.
Both Joker and Nasset couldn’t be found. She let out a long, drawn-out sigh. It was going to be a long night.
When she gave a last glance at the door she had tried to go through, she saw the guard had gone. Her head swerved left and right but could not locate him.
“Looking for someone?”
Rose nearly jumped, spinning around to meet a pair of white eyes behind her. “Joker!” she exasperated. “Why’d you scare me like that?”
“I didn’t mean to, princess,” Joker shrugged. She waved Rose to follow her. “I think this door is the way down to a lower floor.”
“Why is there blood on your face?”
Joker paused, her blind hand reaching up and wiping off bits of blood that dotted her face. She gave a breathy laugh, “Have you never had fun before? Me and Mister Handsome from before may have had too good of a time together.”
“Disgusting,” Rose muttered. Joker shrugged again and led her toward the door, and when opened, revealed a winding staircase downward. Despite her blindness, Joker had no qualms in drawing a sage symbol that created an ice ramp that she slid down on.
Rose could hear the blind woman giggle as she disappeared down the staircase. With a heavy sigh, Rose gathered mana around her, ready to follow when she spotted men in black attire who were scrambling nearby with faces full of concern and panic. As she scanned the area, her eyes squinted in confusion as she noticed that many of the guards she had encountered while sneaking around had mysteriously vanished.
“Princess!” Joker’s voice shouted from below.
Rose hissed under her breath, “Damned blind bat, stop shouting. You’ll get us caught…”
“What was that?”
“Oh,” Rose shouted back quickly, regretting speaking badly about Joker, forgetting how keen her senses were. “I said, I’ll be down in a moment.” Without another moment of hesitation, she slid down the icy slide.
Zini murmured, “From death we shall rise, from sacrifice we shall be made great…” His dark green eyes opened slowly. A pair of sky blue eyes met him, causing him to jolt upward. Glancing about, he discovered that he was inside a sage symbol carriage, which was in motion. The interior was fashioned like a temple, with stone pillars reaching from the floor to the ceiling. At one end of the room stood an altar adorned with shrines to modern gods. When he looked up at stained-glass windows, he felt a burning sensation on his skin, causing him to quickly look away. He realized with dismay that this place was consecrated and therefore holy.
“I’m told you are a good man,” a voice stated.
Zini turned to the owner of the sky blue eyes and saw an attractive young woman with blonde hair, her expression solemn. White flowing robes fell from her frame, Zini able to recognize the garb as representing someone with a high position in a church.
“A holy woman,” Zini scowled. “Just my luck.”
“And you are a man of darkness,” the young woman retorted. She soon sighed. “But again, I’m told you are a good man.”
“Sir?” a voice came from across the temple. Zini turned to see Euness walking toward them down an aisle between rows of wooden benches. “It is good to see you well, good sir!” Euness enthused jovially.
“And you,” Zini smiled but paused and asked, “What of the others?”
“There’s no need to worry,” Euness assured. “The others are safe. They are resting in another room.”
Zini let out a sigh of relief.
“So, you are a decent fellow, aren’t you?” the young woman prompted Zini who stared at her, unsure what to make of her.
“This is Priestess Vilda,” Euness introduced. He then gestured to Zini as he looked to Vilda. “This is Mister Zini.”
“I’ve checked everyone you were with and found no traces of dark magic, Mister Zini,” Vilda commented. “It is as Mister Euness has said, you are a good person. You haven’t enslaved or made into a thrall anyone who was with you.”
“Like I said before, Priestess. Mister Zini is a hero,” Euness guaranteed.
“I’m no hero,” Zini snapped, but withdrew his ire seeing Euness flinch. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to act out in such a way. It’s just that…” His words fell along with his head. He had a bad dream. Those he failed had visited him whilst he slept and showed him how much of a hero he wasn’t. They had been rather convincing.
“Be at peace, good sir,” Vilda smiled warmly. “I sense a burden on your shoulders, an old burden that hasn’t been lifted, or perhaps you refuse for it to be lifted from you. Your worries feel heavy, so heavy even I can feel it, though I cannot fathom the full extent of your struggles.”
Zini observed her more closely. She had accurately guessed his feelings. This was one of the reasons why he had an aversion towards those who practiced holy magic. They had keen discernment when it came to reading the emotions of others, which didn't sit well with him, bringing out of him unneeded feelings of vulnerability.
“Please,” Vilda pled. “Be at peace. I only mean well.”
Zini gave a small nod and settled back into his chair, his gaze drifting towards a stained-glass window. Beyond it, the buildings of the city glided past, their quality far superior to those of the slums they had left behind. He opened his mouth to inquire about their destination, but before he could speak, Euness beat him to it.
“We’re going with Vilda to meet with members of an organization she is part of,” Euness informed. Euness would’ve never guessed he’d take Vilda on her offer in such a strange roundabout way. Absentmindedly, he reached into his pocket and grasped the badge Vilda had given him.
“I should be on my way…” Zini began, not willing to stay so close to the holy element or those who practiced it. His burns he’d received from Nasset’s artifact still stung on his skin.
“You have nowhere to go,” Vilda stated seriously.
Zini merely stared before replying, “You may be right or you may be wrong. While I still have strength, I will always be able to find somewhere to stay.”
“You’ve betrayed the darkness to save others, yet you shun the light when it embraces you and offers you succor.”
“Because it burns,” Zini replied, taking the Priestess’ analogy literally.
To his surprise, Vilda giggled. “You’re rather funny. Why not join us for the trip then after, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” Her laughter was like silver bells. Zini couldn’t believe this young woman was the one who had reduced two dark arts users to mere ash.
“Where are we going?”
“To travel on the path of the stars.”