Chapter 2: Marked for Death

The crows cawed from the rafters, casting their silent vigil on the villagers below as they made their way to and fro from their daily comings and goings. Victorique and Marionette happened to be among these people, who were gathering to the center of the town for a town meeting. The mayor of the town looked haggard and elderly, with a drooping primrose in the buttonhole of his suit. A crow settled down onto his shoulder, though he took no heed of it as it began to eye him with its beady black eye. The mayor coughed, stuttered and wheezed, to which the crow flew backwards a few moments before settling on his shoulder. Victorique glanced at the mayor and knew that he was coming on in years--eventually he will die and become a rotting corpse in the ground, unless if she decided to tinker with him and bring him back from the dead.

“My dear citizens,” the man said in a creaky voice that was like a rusted door coming off its hinges. “We’re gathered here today for the unfortunate death of Severus. He may have been an eccentric man, though I’m sure that no one here would have wished him ill will or harm.”

The townspeople muttered about themselves when they heard this announcement. Victorique lingered by and absorbed in their conversations, relishing the fearful superstitions they harbored towards Old Man Severus.

“Didn’t he practice sorcery?” a woman called out into the crowd, and the crowd rippled with nods and murmurs at this.

The mayor coughed and hemmed, before taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his mouth with it. The crow cawed when the mayor began to cough, and ceased its noise when he spoke. “Those are rumors. I’m sure that Severus was an ordinary, elderly man who acquired an unfortunate reputation for being a conjurer.”

“How do you explain all these crows all around us in this town?” one of the women shuddered in terror. “It’s like an omen of death, I’m telling you.”

“I admit that the crows are unusual, though I’m sure that this has nothing to do with Severus’s death. There is no reason to panic among you. All the citizens in this city are in a safe sanctuary that will protect us from dark magics, wild animals from the mountainsides, or natural disasters that are common in other areas of the world. We’ve lived here in peace and harmony for a while, staying out of danger’s way and keeping out of the wars that the other countries that are involved in. We may have isolated ourselves in our beloved Saberia, though we will live prosperous lives under the protection of God.”

Victorique watched with a smirk on her lips while the sheep squabble amongst themselves. Little did they know that she was a wolf in a sheep’ s skin. Their God wouldn’t protect them now, oh no.

“Then…” a frightened woman said as she suckled a babe on her bare breast. “In God we pray, that you keep us sinful children of Saberia under you protection from the wrath of war.”

Victorique knew that even Saberia wouldn’t be protected from the onslaught of war. War ravaged across the nations, taking countless lives and souls. There was an afterlife, though it was an empty place. A place devoid of warmth and comfort. Then again, this world wasn’t any much better, was it? Still…if there was a God, he probably was murdered by the endless wishes and fathomless greed of humans. Victorique suddenly thought of a newspaper article writ as thus: GOD FOUND DEAD ALL OF HUMANITY DEEMED RESPONSIBLE. Victorique almost chuckled aloud at this, though she restrained herself, less the villagers thought her mad.

There would be a lot of corpses to harvest after this. Victorique often found herself to places that were likely to be places of war and death. It seemed like this world wanted nothing more than its own destruction. Constant warfare, gunfire and smoke, flames and forest fires to flush out villagers and the sheep, food shortages to starve the children and woman. It was definitely a world resplendent with death. Her heart thrilled at the prospect of digging out dead bodies to use for her experiments.

She wanted to learn more about this Death, the place where the World Ended. There was a place where the End of the World happened, and she happened to be a Witch that originated from there. Dim memories of this place flashed through her mind. It was a beautiful place, with white structures of pearl and diamond reaching spires to the sky. Some people might have called it heaven, she supposed, though what it really was called was the Radiant Garden by those who lived there.

Victorique was banished from there for eternity. In this lifetime, unless if she managed to reset the karma that she placed upon herself, then she would never return there. Though Victorique didn’t care. She destroyed the Radiant Garden a long time ago, to become immortal.

In this backwards world from the various that worlds have spawned from the destruction of the Radiant Garden, souls have stagnated and Death itself became an absence rather than a cycle of reincarnation and rebirth. Victorique’s soul was stained so black from her fit of madness that she were to live forever to serve penance and never truly die.

She wondered why Marionette truly wanted to live. To live in such a world. A world where no hope of restoration or peace remained. Marionette piqued her curiosity, made her ask questions and consider things that she hadn’t thought about before. Suppose she were to restore her lost karma, the black taint that spawned several centuries back towards the Radiant Garden. This world, which hunted witches and necromancers alike, was not even supposed to exist. Just like she wasn’t meant to exist.

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Victorique frowned. She wouldn’t think of that now. The only thing that she cared about was relieving her boredom. Because this place was boring, everything was boring ever since you’ve seen all there was to see. She didn’t care about her karma or restoring this world to it’s proper place or being a hero. The last time that she played hero, she ended up being betrayed and dying the stupidest of deaths…before being resurrected and betrayed again. No, life was full of betrayal and angst and misery.

Marionette prodded Victorique when she dazed off into space with a blank stare as the other villagers departed from the mayor, squabbling amongst themselves. Victorique must’ve gotten so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize that Marionette and the others were the only ones left standing on the cobblestoned streets.

“Mistress,” Marionette whispered to the golden girl. “Do you think that you could give me a soul? Anyone will do. If I were to become alive…I would feel emotions. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

“It’s not as wonderful as you think,” Victorique said. “I could do without my emotions, for one. They’re troublesome and don’t lead to anything but heartache. Endless thinking and endless ponds of reflection; I’m better off without them.”

“If you can help just one person…” Marionette whispered. “Then shouldn’t that redeem yourself from your blackest of sins?”

Victorique looked Marionette in the eyes. “Tell me more about your master. Why he has sent you. How much he knows.”

“He is a Master of Death and Shadows,” Marionette recalled. “He said that he can restore your karma, but only if you do something for him in return. He wants to understand how you achieved immortality and are protected from Death.”

Victorique shook her head. “Well, I’m afraid that I can’t do much about that. I think it sounds too good to be true, and I refuse to believe that the depths of my sins can be replenished through just one act. No, my sins would take an eternity to be redeemed. Or more eternities beyond that.”

“Mistress,” Marionette said kindly. “Your Fate is not to be stuck in a stagnant world. You are meant to cause a great change that will ripple throughout the various worlds and cause changes that will span dimensions and parallel universes. If you can work together with my master, I’m sure that things will be set right again.”

“What if I have no interest in setting things right again?” Victorique said with a sharp toothed smile. “Maybe my heart is just too wicked. Maybe I just want to watch all the worlds and dimensions burn.”

“Because,” Marionette said patiently. “You took this curse upon yourself as punishment. You were secretly hoping for an opportunity to present itself in your long suffering punishment that you could redeem yourself for what you did, even if you had to suffer through it for an eternity or more. I think that, Mistress, you’re trying to numb your emotions and run away, but you still have enough of a heart to realize that you can be the change that you see in the worlds and dimensions. Will you help our master save this doomed world and set things right again?”

“What…” Victorique said. “Just start afresh? Start anew? Is that even possible? I would much rather prolong my suffering rather than live with the possilbility that I may die and never come back. I care about myself and only love myself; that’s the only person that I could rely on the most.”

“That is such a shame, Miss Victorique,” Marionette said while shaking her head. “Instead of drowning in your own personal woes and sorrow, why don’t you help others? Even the blackest of sins can be redeemed as long as you take consistent small actions to improve yourself.”

“Some sins are too great,” Victorique said in a serious tone. “As long as I’m stuck in this world, it’s a personal purgatory for myself. I will live forever while those that I even remotely care for pass away and I see it all. Mankind hasn’t changed and there’s still warfare, greed, and darkness no matter what dimension you go to. I’m tired of it. I just want to take a nice long nap and be rid of it all, but no, I’m not even allowed that small mercy.”

“Then, Miss Victorique,” Marionette said with a polite bow of her head. “Surely you will listen to a story I have to tell. It is the story about Enkidu and Gilgamesh.”

“I’ve read it in its original language, though some versions may differ across universes. But essentially they are all about a man who is trying to find ultimate meaning in existence, and you’re saying that I’m like Gilgamesh? Are you perhaps my Enkidu, then?”

“Not necessarily,” Marionette said. “But the story seemingly ends in tragedy, Gilgamesh has indeed achieved immortality. Through people’s hearts and memory. Mistress, you can be remembered as a great being across the universes and dimensions. Your story needn’t end in tragedy; you can rewrite your story. You’ve been gifted the opportunity to do so.”

“What good does it do, Marionette,” Victorique pondered aloud. “As I struggle futilely against my fate and only see the same results over and over again? They say that insanity is doing the same thing several times with the same results. That would be rather dunderheaded of me, wouldn’t it?”

Marionette bowed again.

“Do you perhaps, think that time will soothe your heart? Or do you need a little divine intervention, should I put it? An angel to save you, perhaps?”

Victorique laughed at the notion. Someone? Save her? Who could? Nobody could erase her black karma. She would live with it forever, lingering over her and carrying it behind her like her own shadow. It loomed over and eclipsed the world.

“There is no saving me. I’m done for.”

“All this wallowing is doing you no good, Mistress. The Master has a task for you, to help save this world and yourself.”

“And what is that?” Victorique asked.

“My master could give you death, as promised,” Marionette said. “So long as you do this one request of his.”

“So I’m a tool in the end.”

“Even if there is death for you in the end, wouldn’t you like to relinquish the bad karma around you? There might be hope for a reincarnation even if you do die if you do this for him,” Marionette said kindly. “You must make a decision.”

Victorique held her head high, golden hair with curls swaying gently. She looked Marionette straight in the eye, her own eyes gem-like from unshed tears.

“Please…help me. If your master can help me, then I will do anything.”