Pestilence.
My gaze wanders over the newly re-disguised girl, her perfect and unmarred skin a stark contrast to her armor, which is dented, battered, and punctured in places – her Fiery Crown has reshaped itself into something less eye catching. A small silver circlet that rests on her brow, almost hidden by her red hair, inset with a ruby – no matter what it looks like, the collar chains my dog firmly.
An odd thing for anyone to call themselves, in my opinion. Perhaps it is fitting though, she would know better than I. In truth I don't care much, I just gladly accept the small stroke of good fortunate amid all this unpleasantness, to find the Demon King – still alive – here can only be considered good fortune. Another servant with truly unquestionable loyalty – no Demon King inducted by my little following of insects can stand against my will – she should be able to accomplish the task I've set before her, or die trying I suppose. Looking at her, she seems to have mostly recovered herself, the dopey and pliable expression that dominated her face ever since I reminded her of her oath has disappeared at least, and she accepted my orders. Which is all that really matters.
Having resolved things – more or less – with my wayward Demon King, I turn my attention back to refining my Rune Formations, trying to work out the best places to inflict the huge amount of force they are capable of applying. Meanwhile my mind wanders and wonders at the newest addition to my forces – re-addition? Whatever. Our conversation was enlightening if nothing else. As I expected she will be useful …but maybe not immediately so. And she's so amusing, Pestilence? Is that not a dramatic thing to call yourself? I've no intention of Naming her though, so it hardly matters – maybe once she's accomplished something to earn such an honor, if I remember.
Then, it's ready. I feel the magic informing me, the preparations are complete. Putting the Demon King out of my mind I activate my spell. Driving huge wedges of force into the surface of the crystal heart – smashing into it over and over. The chamber rumbles as the impacts shake the entire tree, but the heart remains stubbornly unscathed. Or at least it looks that way from the outside – but my magic informs me progress is indeed being made – and after merely a dozen of my hammer blows crack begin to appear in its glossy surface. Spotting my opportunity, I drive a huge wedge of power – guided perfectly by my magic that sensed out the things interior – into a precise spot on the heart.
The huge heart cracks down the middle, Soulfire rapidly consuming the two split halves of the thing. A dull ache of pain rising through me, lessened by my extensive preperations, but still there. Revealed by the split, like a chick in an egg, or a weird crystal-based life form in a rock is a …weird crystal-based life form. It is an odd thing, humanoid in form, but instead of flesh is it composed entirely of hard crystal – the same type of crystal that crystal hearts are composed of I judge, if that is the case the things mana capacity is probably staggering. Because it is nearly entirely black – the color of a fully mature crystal heart – the only exceptions are the claw-like appendages at the end of each of its four limbs and its odd triangular head, filled with nasty looking teeth, those bits are all composed of purple crystal. Corruption radiates off the thing.
Its body is curled up in the fetal position, like the worlds ugliest baby. Which is saying something – coming from me – I've seen newborn Gath you know? Three arms and that weird floppy tail… Shaking my head to chase away that thought, I regard the thing with a certain trepidation. After all …this confirms some things doesn't it? Seeing something like this …I can't help but wonder if it isn't already too late? But I suppose I've resolved to at least try.
Fortunately the Rune Formation I especially created for destroying the crystal heart – targeting minute weaknesses and fracture points with precise applications of massive force, cracking them wide that they might be more easily burned by my Soulfire – seems equally as effective against the odd looking thing inside the massive corrupted crystal heart. Its limbs cracking and breaking, its angular torso bursting open, its strange head splitting wide – and all of it igniting in a green blaze.
Tiredly I watch it burn – I really had to work this time didn't I? As I suspected, simply burning the corruption from the world is just. Too. Much. Work. I won't do it. I refuse. I made a special exception this time since the doves seemed so determined to kick off the apocalypse for real. And also because it was my fault – a tiny bit – for letting them toss around their spells like that. As the chunks of stone and crystalline corpse burn away to nothing I turn away and start back up the tunnel.
The Demon King wordlessly follows behind me.
Leaving the dead tree takes nearly as long as getting in. My shoulders are slumped and my gait is a dull trudge. I'm so tired. I don't even need sleep! There's no reason for me to have to feel like this. The worst is I want to just lie down – pass out from exhaustion – but I can't because of the horrid itchy…
Ahhhh. I feel like crying. Didn't I order Pink to fix this weeks ago? What's the hold up? It's only the whole damn world. Haha. Thus I emerge out of the tree trunk, into the light of the setting sun, in a strange half depressed, half giddy mood. Where I immediately set upon Pink – who was waiting just outside for me – collapsing against her. At times like this I don't mind towering over my servants from below, Pink is just the right height for me to lean onto, nestling my head inside her ample cleavage – taking a tiny bit of care not to gore her in the process.
I can feel odd gazes from the assembled insects – but in truth I don't care at all right now.
“Pink! It's so terrible! I'm so tired. That was so much work!” I start whining while clinging to her. “Never again, you understand? This was a special occasion – one time only! From now on you have to handle troublesome things like this! Use those two recruits, grind them into nothing, I don't care!”
Pink immediately returns my embrace with fervor – her arms wrapping around me. She's so nice. So soft and so warm. How could I have ever thought of letting her die? Never again!
“Yes mistress. You needn't worry at all. The recruits have promise, with a bit of training – there will be nothing we can't overcome. It's my eternal shame to make you work on my behalf.” As she speaks she strokes the top of my head. “But I'm glad you did it, thank you mistress.”
“Mmmmmm.” My reply is incoherent. I'm happy to just rest against her like this. With the burning of the tree's huge heart that skin crawling feeling that comes from close proximity to the corruption has nearly disappeared and by clinging to Pink like this I can ignore it entirely. It's bliss. A few minutes pass, and around me I can hear nervous shuffling and a few cleared throats – but I ignore them all. Or I do until I begin to hear ominous creaking and cracking noises from above my head.
With great reluctance I separate myself from Pink, contenting myself with just clinging to her arm, ignoring incredulous and annoyed gazes all around me, and look up to determine the cause of those ominous sounds. The massive trunk of the tree – scorched and gouged in hundreds of places – is losing its luster. The purple light faded from it completely following the destruction of its heart and now even the greens and browns are bleeding away – the thing just too massive to sustain itself by natural means. Even so this is a bit too fast – the result of being a construct largely born from magic I imagine – the bark is turning gray and flaking off here and there, massive slabs of wood – easily twenty feet long – breaking off the trunk and tumbling to the ground.
Revealing wood beneath – also going gray – cracking and splintering, being shorn apart under its own weight. With a huge crash the bridge between the tree and the Celestial city is dislodged – tumbling hundreds of feet down and smashing into the dirt. Watching the city – now ascending again – I can see grayed and withered roots sliding free of the massive wound and falling away. The Celestials wasted no time in reclaiming their city. I should probably follow their example and get moving I suppose.
“Let's get out of here – before that thing falls on us.” I declare, not waiting for any response I just begin to walk toward Shadfer, dragging Pink along by my side. The battle has taken us over a mile from the city and while I could and probably should fly, it just seems like so much work right now.
At my words, the two little halves – who had been resting on a fallen chunk of wood, sitting side by side – leap to their feet and fall into step behind me. I'll need to have some words with them eventually I guess …or maybe I can just let Pink handle it? I glance at her to find her regarding them as well – her face twisted in disdain – and I suppress a sigh. Whatever, I'll deal with it later. As we pass them, the human Heroes fall into step as well – apparently they aren't done with us yet.
“Amon, Mikeal – take the others and return to Hal'Trinneth, it looks to have sustained some significant damage, it will need the attentions of our best.” I hear Aurora behind me, ordering her flock. “I …I will catch up. Blademaster with me – you will be of no use repairing delicate magics.” A few contemptuous snorts follow that declaration and then the sounds of my feathered friends spreading their wings and flying away. Finally.
A second later Aurora lands nearly beside me – about four or five feet away – on the opposite side from Pink, her delicate-looking feathered wings folding majestically behind her. The Demon King landing behind and following silently in her wake. The two of them look a bit worse for wear – both of them sporting holes and tears in their armor and the chain shirts below – but it looks like healing magic has handled the worst of it. Doesn't hide the dried blood, spattered here and there on their clothes and even on their skin – at least they both seem to have taken a moment to clean their faces. At my side I can feel Pink stiffen and turn her attention to the bloodied doves.
“Demon God-” Aurora begins.
“Demon Lord.” I correct absently.
“Huh…?” The dove makes a confused sound. “Demon Lord? Why Demon Lord? That isn't even the top of the hierarchy.” At my side Pink growls. Annoyed that I'm being questioned I assume. She literally growls – a deep rumbling noise coming from deep in her ample chest. Absently I reach up to swat the top of her head, causing the growling to stop and her to turn a teary and slightly questioning face down at me.
“Many reasons dove. It is the title I've held longest and the one I love best. No one expects anything of a Demon Lord after all. To ascend any higher than that is to invite all sorts of annoyances. Or so it went – once upon a time. But surely you're not here to discuss the finer points of demonic culture.” I almost laugh the last word, regarding her from the corner of my eye as I speak – in truth a bit grateful for the distraction from my tiredness.
“Aurora.” Mattis suddenly speaks up, his voice serious. “I have long been skeptical of this quest of yours, a sentiment you are familiar with I'm sure, but I am informing you here and now, you no longer have the support of the Hero if you intend to continue waging your suicidal war. The Emperor dispatched me here personally, in accordance with the ancient accord between our peoples – so I do not say that easily – but I am confident he will agree with my decision.” Looking over at him, Mattis' eyes are deadly serious and his party are all wearing expressions of naked relief.
“Yes, I imagined as much Mattis.” Aurora responds, slightly sourly. Her desire to fight has apparently deserted her – interesting.
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“And to you, Demon Lord, you have my most sincere apologies for my behavior today – I have besmirched the Title of Hero. I do not expect your forgiveness. I only ask – no I beg, please restrain your retaliation to me alone. My party merely followed me – followed the direction of the Hero – they are blameless. My Emperor only honored an ancient pact – laid down long before either of us were born – but I am sure he would never have consented if he had been aware of the full scope of what was being asked. Even if it had meant severing all ties with The Chorus.” Mattis continues.
Pink looks ready to answer – it is her job after all – but I respond before she can.
“Hmmm. A Title is it? Hero? Is that a proper Title – or just some bit of human puff?” I ask, ignoring his petition entirely. Mattis looks surprised, then confused, as if he's unsure how to respond – before finally resolving himself and speaking again.
“It is a proper Title I believe – bestowed by His Holiness the High Forgemaster of Kirn – and should I fall it will be passed along to a worthy successor, to be used against The Encroachment.”
“Interesting. That is an old Title human, you are not the first Hero I've met, to think it would survive even until today, how very novel …ah, Pink, sorry, feel free to field his question now…” I say. “But keep in mind, his life is likely a valuable one to the humans – in the face of their Encroachment. And to us in turn.” I continue in a murmur into her nearby ear, making a slight effort at secrecy.
“Of course mistress.” Her response is soft and sweet. Then her tone becomes positively chilly as she addresses the human. “As for you, well it's my feeling that your puny efforts today were insignificant and thus not deserving of any particular reproach or reward. More concerning is that you would insult the Demon Lord by those efforts – a crime only slightly mitigated by your ignorance – if we were in Lumineux I would have you all confined to the Punishment Chambers for the remainder of your miserable lives…”
Pink pauses, drawing a deep breath and settling herself.
“But. We are not in Lumineux. And I have been reminded that a Hero carries a certain intrinsic value when weighed against The Encroachment we all seek to combat – therefore I will not seek any reparation or apology beyond your assurance that there will be no repeat incidents and that you will redirect your energies in directions more productive for all of us.”
“Alexandria…?” A quiet voice calls out to me. Turning my head slightly I see one of my new servants – Marlin I think he was called – is leaning forward surreptitiously. I carefully arch an eyebrow in response – conveying my confusion.
“Is that …ok? That man – I recognize him – he is one of the most powerful men in the Imperium, the blade of the Emperor himself it's said.” He whispers urgently.
“Of course, Pink will handle him flawlessly I'm sure – you needn't concern yourself.” I reply, attracting a few curious gazes. Oops – we were whispering weren't we? Suddenly the center of attention Malek flushes red and mutters “I see...” before dropping back to walk alongside my other servant again. I see him off with a smile – masking my slight confusion. Oh well, Pink will see to his education soon.
“Demon Lord.” Aurora speaks up again, more insistently this time. “My name is Aurora Arclight – First Plume of the High Chorus, and the de facto leader of the Celestials at this point in time.” A rather formal introduction all of a sudden – the dove feeling polite for some reason.
“…'de facto leader'? What exactly does that mean?” Pink cuts into her blustering.
Leveling a hateful glare at Pink, Aurora responds. “The meaning is clear is it not? With the seat of the Potentate empty, the High Chorus has taken on many additional responsibilities in recent years – there are few who can claim more authority than I among my people. More than that delves into the affairs of my people.”
Then with a burst of speed – aided by briefly outstretched wings – she plants herself directly in my path, bringing the whole procession to a halt. The Demon King as well – matches her movements perfectly and aids her old master in barring our path. Aurora's confidence that we won't just incinerate her is …confusing. She seems to have drawn some odd conclusions about our relationship in the aftermath of our fight against that annoying tree.
“What of you? Have you no name to give?” Aurora challenges.
With an audible sigh, I make a vague gesture at my followers – encouraging peace. Then I focus my full attention on the battered Celestial before me, checking the small swell of anger that has risen in my breast. At her disrespect of course. But more pertinently, just at her existence – demons and Celestials do not get along and I am no exception to that universal truth – but I am older... I have lived long years beyond counting and cultivated a great deal of, if not self-control, at least apathy. So the old anger stirs and is drowned out simply under the weight of the years I have lived. She seems to be trying to play nice, so I suppose I should at least try to match her there.
At my side, Pink is not handling it as well, so I give her arm a light squeeze – remind her of our purpose – and the tension drains from her body.
“As I suspect you know, my name is Alexandria. You could say without exaggeration that I represent the interests of all the demons of Artas. My titles are numerous, my patience is sparse, what would you have of me Aurora?” I attempt a gentle smile.
She looks shaken, but she presses on. “Alexandria is indeed a name I am familiar with. I have heard it often, from the oracles and prophets of The Chorus – from the lips of the High Priestesses of Seriah themselves – I have heard the name Alexandria. The Destroyer, The Corrupter, The Unbinder, set on unmaking the world.”
Though she just relaxed a bit, I can feel Pink getting more tense with every word the dove speaks – practically thrumming with anger. So I begin lightly running my finger along her spine, ever so gently tracing a line down her back. The results are immediate and phenomenal – Pink stops paying attention to the Celestial entirely, and starts to wiggle about in an unladylike manner. It's cute but also a bit rude – I look over at Aurora but she doesn't seem to have noticed.
“The reality I have seen today is at odds with the words of the seers and priests of The Chorus – those with whom it is said Seriah informs directly. That you would take up arms against that creature, a monster the likes of which I've never seen – even on the distant reaches of The Frontline – is unbelievable. Never before have I had any reason to doubt their words, even now a lifetime of adherence to the Seriah's teachings urges me to dismiss what I have seen today as some fever dream – but I feel that might well be fatal to The Chorus. So I ask you – Alexandria – do you have some explanation? You spoke of a cause, even blamed me. I feel you must know something I do not, something vital.” Her expression is hopeful as she looks at me, ruined slightly by her gritted teeth.
“I know many things that you do not Aurora. In fact, I know many things you would likely consider vital – given your position at the head of the Celestials. But you will be disappointed to hear that there is little I can share. Save that maybe you should not place such faith in the will of a Goddess – ask a demon how that tends to pan out, the next time you have an opportunity.” I can feel my smile widening.
My finger stops – just above Pink's hips – and I give her one more light prod, prompting an odd shivering spasm, before separating from her entirely. Stepping forward into Aurora, flaring my wings behind me as I approach – relying a bit on good old fashioned physical proximity to really drive home my words. When I stop, our faces are only six inches apart and in the low evening light my shadow completely covers the woman in the golden scale armor.
“You see Aurora, there are some things you must learn for yourself. Or at the very least, there are some things – that if you learned them from me – would be worse than useless to you. Do you understand why?” I lean forward a tad more as I ask her – cheating a bit by lifting my feet an inch or two off the ground.
“I-I do not. If you know something, if – as you've claimed – your wish is the destruction of the Unbound. Consulting with the Chorus seems an appropriate action.” Aurora says.
By way of response, I raise my hand, extending a finger as if to touch the dove. She watches wide-eyed as my finger approaches her armored shoulder, grinding her teeth. When the space between us has narrowed to about a centimeter – she lasted longer than I thought she would honestly – she flinches away, taking two rapid steps backwards. As the sudden flurry of motion ends she just gapes at me – her expression confused and apologetic.
“I-I'm sorry, I don't know… I didn't mean… I didn't think-” She launches into a flustered apology that I cut off with a dismissive wave of my hand.
“With that the problem is illustrated well enough is it not Aurora?” I ask. “You are older and more disciplined than most of your kind I've no doubt, yet even you can't bear so much as even a brush of my finger. We do not get along – cannot get along. Any attempts at cooperation between demons and doves are as a candle in the storm – brief, flickering, ultimately extinguished. So it has always been.” My voice is slightly melancholy as I assert that truth, which is as unassailable as the stars in the sky.
“That is absurd. I admit there has been little but bad blood between our peoples, I am aware of the shamelessness of asking you of all people for aid. But there must come a moment when we can put the past behind us mustn't there? It has been centuries since The Sundering and the Chorus responsible for it no longer exists, even I – the leader of the High Chorus – was but a child when Artas was ravened. The Celestials who enacted that magic against your people – and all that followed – are dead by this point, save a few of the very oldest of us.
“This is bigger than you or I, the whole of Karridor teeters on the brink, The Chorus knows that truth better than most. I've seen what remains of The Tribelands – overrun by the Unbound, the Tribes scattered, weak, driven from their ancestral homes. I know of what has befallen Avashorn – the borders closed for nearly a hundred years now, a foul stink of the Unbound rising unchecked in those ancient forests.
“The humans of the Northlands are no more – their tribes broken and scattered to the winds. The Tarisan's hang by a thread – beating back The Encroachment with foul and ancient magic, grinding the souls of their citizens in the endless war to buy themselves seconds of respite. The Imperium has militarized every man woman and child in these lands and it is all they can do to buy time.
“Even …even my people. Hal'Rahja was pulled from the sky – and the seat of the Potentate sits empty, we've not even recovered the ceremonial crown …by the Gods Alexandria.” Her voice has gotten thick, choked with emotion. “We speak of the world, Alexandria. Of all the peoples on the face of Karridor… We need… There has to be something.”
The sudden emotional outburst earns Aurora a great many confused looks. This is not how you address a mortal foe – obviously. It seems she has slightly misinterpreted the situation and judged me as an ally of sorts – given our cooperation against that tree and my reluctance to kill her I imagine. Mattis' eyes are so wide I wonder if they might simply fall from their sockets. Haaah. Hah. Haha.
“Hahahahahaha!” The laughter explodes from me, unchecked, my mirth unrestrained. Around me I can feel curious, incredulous, and angry eyes. But I can't help it.
“You seek a savior dove? And you petition me? Me? Truly? Have you fully taken leave of your senses – Aurora?” The laughter in my voice dies. “You said it yourself – I am corrupter, destroyer, unmaker – ask anyone. Ask any of the Eight Great Clans of Artas, what happens when you rely on Alexandria to be your savior. Ask the Grand Inquisitors, the Demon Kings, the High Demon Lords, the Archpriestesses of the Order of Alexandria – they will all have the same answers for you. Mostly, they can no longer speak – but that is a sort of answer as well, is it not?
“No. You cannot bear my presence, and I cannot bear yours. There will be no cooperation between us dove – but I suppose you can at least rest assured that I will see this world saved. I know the cause, my servants are preparing the method – given a bit of time I will repair what has been broken, if only so that I might get a bit of sleep. You need only keep out of my way – surely you are capable of that much?” I say with venom.
Aurora's face, which had been nearly teary and filled with a kind of reluctant hope, has gone blank.
“I suppose I should have expected as much from the Demon Goddess. I was a fool-” Aurora begins.
“You are a fool dove, a fool dancing on strings so thick around you you mistake them for the guidance of your benevolent Goddess.” I snort. “But I am Alexandria, I do not suffer the machinations of man or dove or even the Gods themselves, I will cut my path. And you would do well to stay out of my way.” Saying so I resume walking – straight into Aurora.
She moves quickly, vacating my path, taking to the sky. Looking down at me she looks as if she wants to say something, give some parting word. But eventually she just shakes her head, her face painted with a strange mixture of anger and defeat, and flies away – back up toward the massive floating city – with my little Pestilence in tow. That went well enough, the wayward Demon King should be able to handle the rest. We, in turn, continue our trek back to Shadfer in blessed silence. For about a second, before someone begins speaking again.
“You …you mean to save the world? Alexandria?” A hesitant voice calls out. “I was a bit …a bit scared to have… you know …pledged myself. To you. But is that true, what you said to her? About saving the world?” Though stuttering and stammering, Marco manages to deliver his message eventually.
I laugh. “Of course not. That's your job – right?”
After that, no one speaks, an uneasy silence following us all the way back to the gates of Shadfer. Well, judging by the expressions on the faces of the humans and the halves it's uneasy, I'm too preoccupied – distracting myself from the uncomfortable swell of corruption in the air by clinging to Pink – to pay them much mind.