Frazier’s eyes opened, only to be greeted by the same darkness that devoured him when he last shut them. He turned his head to the left, and an empty abyss that seemed to go on for eternity stared back at him. He shook his head and turned to the right, the same abyss, unfathomable darkness being all he could see. What happened? Why was he here? Frazier turned his head one final time to gaze forward, the abyss was there, but what stood between him and it was 5 pale faces, locks of brown and old hanging from each of their heads. Two boys, and two girls, all children. Their faces were pale soulless masks, each without a shred of joy or dread. The sockets where their eyes should be were black voids, thick streaks of seaweed green flowed down their cheeks to form murky waterfalls. The moment the waterfalls met what appeared to be the ground they formed sparkling pools of darkness. The black of these pools was somehow different, the way it contrasted with the black of the void, it was unattainable, it had to be, yet here he was, staring at it. When he titled his head to give the pale faces another look, a fifth one stood at the forefront. Wild red hair burst from their head, and dark green and brown water painted the curls. Their eyes didn’t cascade green pools like the others, instead, the empty sockets dripped red, tainted by deep green and brown. If the child did have a gender it was impossible to tell. Their face bloated in some places, and missing chunks of flesh in others, a worm slithered out of its ear and sank into the soulless socket where its right eye should be. They were garbed in a soaking deep brown and black gown, and flowers were embroidered across the bottom, yet a small corner with one tore off and drifted into the darkness below. The child raised a short pale finger, the flesh picked from it, leaving a white bone to stare him down. They opened her lips and spoke.
“You…” It was a single word, an empty word carried through the void. It was a child’s voice, yet it boomed, and what was once empty soon began to fill and carry an immense weight.
Their voice pierced his chest, jutted into his heart, and ran through his soul. Hot, salt tears streamed from his eyes and down his cheek, and bile rose from his stomach to fill his mouth and spill out in a hot burst of black and green chunks. For a moment everything went red, when his vision returned, the child’s neck bared bright red marks. Long, pink worms and sleek black leeches sleeked in and out of the child’s body, leaving holes in the chest and arms, and finding their way back inside through the open orifices of her face. The child reopened its mouth to speak once more.
This time, what was left wasn’t a scream, but more of a screech. Like steel on stone, it echoed through the void, the razor-sharp pain it forced upon his eardrums caused Frazier to collapse to his knees. The pain in his soul grew long tendrils, horrible roots from a tree of anguish spreading throughout his body, draining him of any sense of pride. All that remained was guilt. But why? What was he guilty of? What did he do?
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Frazier threw his head up, orange and yellow light surrounded him. Where were they? Where were the children?
As if to answer his question, a nervous voice spoke up. “Y-you c-can’t-” it sniffled a bit before taking a long moment to inhale. Frazier turned his head, it was him, the younger Red Cloak, up close his skin was sandy brown, less pale than it looked from afar, but still paler than he thought. His hair was neatly done into brown and blond curls. “Y- you won’t be able to attack me you know. I tied you up, and I have a weapon if I have to use it.” He pulled a shimmering black dagger from under his cloak.
Frazier struggled a bit, the red boy really did it. The restraints weren’t tight enough to be painful, but they served their purpose well.
Frazier scowled and responded, “So I assume you lot always carry around rope under those cloaks of yours. If so, I am judging you.”
The Red Cloak’s green pupils seemed to shrink as he leaned forward, the flickering fire danced in the green of his eyes.
“That’s some way to treat someone who saved you from a Kelpie you know!” His voice was shrill when he said that, yet Frazier couldn’t help but find it amusing.
“Kelpie huh…? Sorry to tell you buddy, but there are no Kelpie on Greystone, nor are there real witches, or ghosts, or phantoms, or demons, or fairy, or any of the mystical monsters that go bump in the night.” Frazier’s response was punctuated by a sly smirk that seemed to annoy the Red Cloak even more. The Red Cloak’s eyes widened before he let out another shrill response.
“Then how do you explain that? Black Horse monster that can transform into a human? They’re common around Greystone aren’t they?”
“Around Greystone isn’t Greystone!” He barked back at the younger man.
“Then what was that?” He yipped out.
“I don’t know, how should I? I’ve never seen magic or people who turn into horses!”
“You’re delusional fisherman! You know that right? You saw it, I saw it, we both saw it!”
“I don’t know what I saw!” Just let me go so I can get some rest!” The longer this conversation went on, the more Frazier wanted to break the Red Cloak’s nose, maybe even make him lose a few teeth.
The Red Cloak seemed to find that amusing, “oh you’re not going anywhere, not until you tell me what you know about that witch! I DID NOT-” He picked himself up and clenched his fists, he still screeched when he spoke, yet it was somewhat deeper. “Drag you through mud and rain during the worst storm I’ve had to deal with since I landed on this God-forsaken island, throw you into a cave, tie you up, and start up a fire with dust and dry twigs so you don’t die of cold and rain. For you to run right back out to the rain and get yourself dragged into some loch by a devil horse!” By the end of his rant his nostrils flared, and veins bulged from his neck. What followed was a hard plop onto the ground.
Frazier’s blood began to boil. Was that what this was all about? Granny Albe? A strange old hag who knew how to avoid dying.
“You can’t be serious… YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS!”
The Red Cloak’s voice was less confident when he responded, “she’s a witch, I know it!”
Frazier rolled his eyes before responding. “Okay, say she was a witch, say she had magic, say that Kelpie was real too. What do you plan on doing? Man can’t face magic, I know that much.”
He pulled the dagger back out from his cloak and jabbed it into the hard ground beneath them. The onyx-colored blade glimmered and shone, the orange and yellow from the fire between them were reflected on it, causing the blade to take on an enchanted appearance. The hilt was deep crimson and wrapped in white bandages. Well, it was certainly well crafted, Frazier had to admit that. Otherwise, it was just another dagger.
Frazier blurted out a chuckle before shaking his head in confusion. “Nice knife, but how would that kill a kelpie…? Or a witch?”
His mouth twitched as he pulled the dagger from the earth beneath them. “This dagger is a tool from God, crafted from an ore that serves one purpose.” He stashed the dagger away. “To wipe all magic from this Earth.” The fire reflected onto his eyes danced, it danced and swayed, and raged on for what felt like hours.
“Why…?” Was all Frazier could mutter out. This guy, this guy was serious, he was mad.
The Red Cloak seemed to find that amusing for a fraction of a second before continuing, “I’ll tell you… after you tell me everything you know about that witch and that monster.”
“She’s not a witch! And I already told you I don’t know anything about that thing.”
The Red Cloak wasted no time snapping back. “Stop being so selfish! Think, there must be something you know…!” His body drooped down and his tears began to well up in his eyes. What came out next was a pitiful whine, the kind that reminded Frazier of a sad puppy. “...RIght…?”
“Why do you even care?”
“Because they steal and slaughter with indiscriminate abandon. They’re beings of absolutes and they’re incapable of change. You scoff at us, call us mad, yet we exist to usher in a new age!” Tears began to swell up in his reddening eyes.
That piqued Fraizure’s interest. “What kind of age?”
“An age where man will no longer fear what goes bump in the night….” His eyes were crazed now.
“My mother said magic is all around us, it flows through every stream, and grows alongside every bit of life. It rises with the sun and sets with the moon. It’s part of the Earth and the stars. Do you plan on eradicating all of that as well… Er- whatever your name is.”
“Marco.” He responded quickly, yet his tone softened a bit when he said that, at least Frazier thought it did. “...And your mother sounds insane, just because you live inside of a house doesn’t mean you’re part of it.”
Frazier relaxed his shoulders and stared up at the ceiling, his eyes followed the shadows dancing on the surface before allowing a stupid smile to spread across his face from cheek to cheek. “Yeah… the mad wench also believed there was a court of dark and light Fea hiding in the trees, and under mushrooms… and in shoes.” Frazier didn’t like to think of his parents, the pair was less than intelligent, much, much less, but they were his parents nonetheless. “Oh, and it’s Frazier by the way, I know you didn’t ask, but I just wanted to be courteous.” And maybe consider letting me go. He thought to himself.
Marco paused for a moment, his eyes wandering to the ground beside him as if he was searching for the right words to say. “Well, I wouldn’t say she was completely insane on that part. The Seelie and Unseelie are real, and they’re ancient. I’ve read about them, though I’ve never seen one before.”
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“Oh really? Then how do you know that they’re real?”
“How do you know that anything you haven’t seen is real? Magic opens a world of possibilities. And there have been eyewitnesses, hundreds, thousands. On the other islands people talk of them, people know the damage they’ve caused. Even if humans aren’t the target, they fight wicked battles and we’re caught in between.”
A long silence stood between the two before Frazier broke it. “Listen, I’ll- I’ll watch her. I’ll report back to you if she’s really a witch. And I’ll tell you about that… thing if I see it again.” That was a lie, but it would serve him well for now.
Marco's eyes widened in momentary shock, his mouth falling open like some simple fish. "I- I- really? Wait are you serious?" He leaned in over the fire, his rage was long gone now, now it was replaced by a childlike glimmer. "Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!"
Frazier chuckled and smiled at the young man. "Alright, so can you let me go?"
Marco responded with a blank stare and a tilt of his head. He then gestured to the cave exit, though the rain had calmed it was still dark out. “Do you really want to go out there? I’ll let you go, but you’ll have to promise not to die.”
He had Frazier there, there was no telling if that thing was still out there, skulking about in the rain, waiting for them to enter the darkness of the outside world. Frazier relented with a sigh, “fine then, we’ll stay here for the night. But don’t expect me to sleep, I still don’t trust you to watch my back.”
Marco sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, but it’s your health.” He shook his head before returning his gaze to the fire.
Frazier would stay awake for most of the night, the pitter-patter of the rain threatened to lull him to sleep, but he stood his ground. Until the rain stopped, then all that existed was silence, his eyes fluttered, before he shot them open, then they fluttered again before he shot them back open. When they fluttered the final time, they would only close, and they would stay closed for the remainder of the night.
—------------------------------------------------------------------
Twenty-Eight days had passed since that night. twenty-eight days of monotonous fishing, twenty-eight days of visiting granny Albe, only for her to turn him out before the water had a chance to boil. It was twenty-eight long days of not passing rude japes to the Red Cloaks, instead. Frazier just rolled his eyes or gave Marco a nod of acknowledgment. Sometimes, when Marco could get him alone, he’d ask about her, ask if she had performed any magic, done anything out of the ordinary. All it took was a no, and he had moved on. They would occasionally swap jokes, or tell each other about their respective cultures. Marco’s home was apparently a city called Fuscus Balena, it was a port much like the village that most of Greystone inhabited, but larger, much larger. Homes and mansions the size of ten of our ‘hobbles’ as he called them, before apologizing for his rudeness. The water was warm, and rain was uncommon. People from all over the world came to their port, and with them, they brought their cultures, and sometimes even their monsters. He hadn’t seen it for some time now, he left his home to study with the Faith of the Three Cleansers. He had studied to be a Red Cloak, seeing as he wasn’t much of a fighter. Though he still held that dagger, apparently they were all given a dagger of Godsteel when they swore their eternal loyalty to their faith. The longer they talked, the less handsome Frazier found Marco, yet his fondness for him didn’t wither away, apart from Frazier feeling like his fondness had only strengthened, it arguably felt better than the mild attraction that he couldn’t quite explain. He wished his bond with Albe had remained as strong as his friendship with Marco.
No matter how much he pondered it, he couldn’t wrap his head around why she had suddenly turned cold. She hardly talked anymore too, it’s as if he was just an errand-runner. One evening, he caught her staring at him scornfully, her eyes threatening to tear up, though something about her eyes told him her tears had long since run dry.
Frazier had had a moderately successful day. He sold most of his catch, and what was left was just enough for him to carry home and boil, a particularly large Pike, it wasn’t his largest, but it was still a blessing if there was a Spirit or goddess of some sort watching over his island.
As he watched the fish turn white, three loud knocks at the door scared him out of his seat. Causing him to fall onto the hard wooden planks of his floor. Who would want him at this hour? Who would want him enough to come to his house this late in the evening? When Frazier opened the door, he was shocked to see the sandy skin of Marco, in one hand he held a glass container of some red sand-like substance. Seasoning?
“May I come in?” He asked nervously. “I brought a toll if needed.”
Frazier didn’t know how to feel, was he supposed to be happy? Annoyed? Why him? Why tonight? Shouldn’t he be on his own? Did they know he was here? Those thoughts and more rushed through his head as his heart threatened to pound out of his chest. Sweat seeped from every inch of his body, as all he really could do was open his mouth and say.
Sorry, I’m not in the mood for spice or small talk, or you seeing my hobble.
But instead, he blurted out, “come in, in I’m boiling Pike!” Like some dumb dog too friendly for their own good. Stop you fool! No, don’t let him in! Don’t step aside! He let him in, and he stepped aside for Marco to gaze around at his hobble.
“I like it,” Marco said calmly. “Sorry for the intrusion, I just wanted to thank you for not killing me in my sleep the other night, and talking to me after I spied on you and dragged you into a cave.”
“Well, you saved my life from a Kelpie.” Frazier flinched, “please, uh- sit down.” Frazier gestured to a chair and pulled it out, allowing Marco to take a seat.” He ran over to check the Pike, it was almost ready.
“Do you want to use some of this pepper?” Marco held the container up. “I also have some salt.” He pulled a pouch out of his pocket. How could Frazier refuse that? He’d have to be stupid, though he had let Marco in, so he must be stupid.
From there all it took was ten more minutes of seasoning and waiting before finally it could be removed and seasoned just a bit more, and finally sliced up.
“If I knew you were coming, I’d of prepared a stew,” Frazier said, smiling as he chewed on the white meat of the fish.
“No need, I’m the uninvited guest,” Marco replied, “I’m just happy there’s a single native here who doesn’t see me in a negative light.”
He didn’t leave many traces of food, no pieces of meat, or juices from the fish. Frazier also noticed how the Red Cloak didn’t eat large portions, instead, he took small bites of medium-sized pieces he tore off. He took a little longer to eat and chew as well, the way he ate reminded Frazier of his mother.
Marco spoke again, “this is a nice home. Did you build it? Or was it your parents?”
“My parents,” Frazier had inherited it from them when many would’ve still considered him a boy. “My father died during a storm at sea, and my mother’s life was taken by a combination of sickness and age.” Their deaths hurt him at the time, but it had been so long, he had cried, and for the most part, he liked to think he had moved on.
“I’m sorry to hear that, I’m sure they were fine parents,” Marco replied sympathetically.
“Don’t be, you didn’t kill them, nature did. They weren’t smart, and they weren’t great. I know I shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but eh, it’s the truth.” And it wasn’t a truth he minded sharing. Frazier took another bite and washed it down with some water. “If you don’t mind me asking, you’ve spent most of your life with your Faith. Well, what about before that?”
Marco gave pause, his eyes went dark and he tensed up. “My- my mother was the pampered daughter of a wealthy merchant. My father manned one of his ships. They met and had me, much to his chagrin. They wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for their tenacity and my grandfather’s financial rival having a sick sense of humor. My father’s ship was lost to jagged rocks out at sea. It was the work of sirens many say, he shouldn’t have taken the shortcut, but the quota needed to be met.” He took a long pause, “my mother wasn’t right after that, she couldn’t take care of herself, much less me after that. Her father took her back and made me one of his household servants. Before I couldn’t take either of them anymore. Then the Faith found me, I was tempted to leave after a year, but one of their Paladins clad in black brought me the corpse of a woman, though her body was that of a large bird…. My father had been avenged, and I had found my calling.”
Frazier had stopped eating, he could only stare at the other man. “Yeesh, now I’m sorry.”
Marco gave a weak smile, stared down at his food, and took a drink of water. “Don’t be….”
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Two days had passed since then, and the day after their conversation was longer than it had ever been. Marco felt a pang of regret for his lack of transparency after that. Not anymore, he would ask her now, he needed to know. Of course, she’d admit that she wasn’t, because she’s not. But if she said she was, he knew it was just her being a crazy old hag again. The sky was blue, and the only clouds out were puffy and white. This was it, Greystone was no longer grey, and a new light had entered his life to reflect that. He wouldn’t lie to his- could he really say friend now?”
Frazier’s question for himself was put on hold when he heard something. A distant harmony, it was like singing, but it wasn’t. It was gentle and beautiful, it was like honey for his ears. What was this? A small part of him told him following it was a bad idea, but another told him he’d regret not investigating it, and besides, the sirens from Marco’s story were nowhere near Greystone. And if they were, they preferred the ocean anyways. And with that reassurance, Marco followed the sound.
When he pushed past the trees, he came across a small pond, the water clear and blue. But what truly surprised him was the origin of the sugar water voice. Their full hair was long and black, a unique ebony that reminded him of foreign finery. They slid their hand down their long black hair and squeezed the water free from it. The individual could’ve fooled anyone into believing they were a woman with their features, but their chest and shoulders proved that they were a man. Everything beneath their torso was hidden beneath the water, but even with the rest of him hidden, Frazier couldn’t help but feel heat run to his cheeks. He was pale and their face reminded him of old stories of fair maids, while also causing him to reminisce tales of great warriors. His deep black eyes were both vulnerable and intense, glimmering yet empty. He was a wonder to look at, yet he had never seen them before.
The individual stopped singing to give Frazier a long look, this was punctuated by him flashing a smile. “Did my singing bother you, Frazier?”
That caused him to flinch. “How do you know my name?” Frazier asked, taking a step back.
He smirked and swayed through the water, drawing closer to Frazier. “I’ve had my eye on you for quite some time. You shouldn’t fret though.” He slunk back into the water, his eyes were kind and inviting, though a hint of something Frazier couldn’t quite recognize was also hidden behind his dark pupils. “You should come in, you smell horrible.”
Who does this guy think he is? “I don’t stink- I- I bathed last week!” Frazier took a step back as the man began to rise from the water, each step forward revealed more of his dripping body. His glistening form seemed less beautiful as he drew nearer. Frazier took another nervous step back, his body was quaking, and his hands trembled “St-stay back!” Their eyes met, this stranger’s black felt more uncanny, and malice flowed out of them like a cool stream, it was gentle yet still dangerous, one misstep and he’d drown.
He spoke again, his cool, malignant eyes never leaving Frazier. When he spoke, each word was calm and careful, yet the obvious rancor seemed to coexist with the tranquil tone. “Can’t you smell it? The smell of blood and death. You reek of it, yet you and everyone else on this island seem to have lost their sense of smell?” By the time he had finished speaking, he was no longer in the water.
“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Frazier took another step back, all he could see was the man’s face, he dared not move his gaze. A weight fell upon him, keeping him trapped in place. He wasn’t moving anymore, why wasn’t he moving? Why couldn’t he move? The stranger’s face was directly in front of Frazier now. Cool air left his flaring nostrils, his pupils were dark as a midnight sea, and one thing flowed out of them, hate, pure hate.
“There is a way to wash the blood and death from your hands…” Frazier felt the stranger’s fingers curl around the back of his head. Pulling him in even closer and forcing their bodies to press into each other. “Come with me into the loch… close your eyes… remember what you are… And go to sleep.”