Her hand grasped out at Norus’s throat even as her vision blackened, a sudden weakness sapping away her strength as surely as if it was water spilling from a cracked bowl. Her senses felt dulled and distorted, distance all a vague indistinction as the sunlight shone down painfully, piercing her eyes. Her muscles all burned with a fervent tension, every movement as if she was pushing through honey. Yet the blood that splattered against her skin was a small comfort, even as she struggled and fought the unconsciousness.
Emotion and thoughts swarmed her swiftly, biting her alive much as the skal’va. They were vague and incoherent, although something was speaking to her through that warped bubble of speech. The scene before her kept changing. First it was Norus with wide eyes, bloodshot and bulging in his skull. Blood covered his face, be it from forehead, chin, or even throat. Then it shifted to Revan, with his high brows and smooth cheeks. Yet they were barred with fire, the flesh burnt and blackened by greedy flame.
Revan’s handsome face slowly withered, shriveling and becoming baked dry from the flame. It shifted and morphed until finally she found herself staring at what seemed to be a dead man, and then she knew it to be Faith. There was fear that shot through her as surely as an arrow, but also a helpless curiosity. Who was this man? What did he want with her? Was he the one that gave her this madness?
It seems as though now we finally have a chance to talk, the corpse whispered with a strained smile, those withered lips utterly devoid of blood or any colors of life. The skin was entirely pallid to the point that it seemed it might flake off with the slightest movement. She wanted to say something in response, yet before she could open her mouth a sudden spike of pain lanced through her head and the world around her shook.
Blood splattered from her nose onto whatever hazy ground she was standing. Her vision blurred, spanning two breaths before she could truly focus once more. “What was that?” she staggered, breathing hard. There was a sensation of something pulling on her, like she was some cord that was being unraveled. “Where am I?” she asked.
There came the rasping laugh from a thousand voices, pealing like quiet thunder in her ears, and she felt warm blood trickling down her nose from it. You do not know? This is your mind, is it not? Comprehension dawn on her then—aye, was she not dreaming? Yet that surely did not explain everything.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed, knowing that Faith had appeared in her dreams before, that he had been whispering in her thoughts. She truly did not know what he wanted with her, what she could possibly hope to do against something that controlled the skal’va as he did. “What do you want with me?” she growled, the effort of sending a sudden wave of nausea through as there was a sudden harsh tug that seemed to make her mindscape tremble. The image of Faith before her suddenly shimmered and flickered, growing fuzzy before her eyes for a brief moment before once more snapping into clarity.
I am here to bring you truth. You have been deceived, and I would open your eyes. Doubt filled her at those words—how could she trust this, this thing? No, she must not, surely. Every word spoken from those drying lips was a lie.Yet even as she was about to speak, the ground underneath her flickered and vanished, the clap of thunder only inches away from her ears, and she thought that she might plummet to her doom. Yet before any gravity could take advantage of her peril, the floor was solid underneath her once more. Blood and bile filled her throat, and she coughed it out with a convulsion of the stomach. “Blood and bones,” she gasped out, “what was that?”
They would seek to deny you the truth, Faith murmured, throwing bony arms wide. They are trying to tear me away. Surely, you would find no pains in that, but at least listen to what I have to say first, hmm? There is no harm in listening, surely? Those words were sickeningly sweet on her ears, honeyed to the point that it drove her stomach to roil. Yet she had no way to drive him out, at least until Willem and the others drove him away.
Thinking of the others, her thoughts turned to Norus. Her memory was hazy, even though it had happened not even a minute ago. She had remembered a—a blade? Yet was it he who wielded it, or was it her? Just trying to recall made pain shoot through her mind, and the harder she tried to remember that blade, the more the world around her seemed to tremble at the foundations.
As if hearing her thoughts, Faith spoke. Your friends are under a thrall, Katherine of House Black. The demons have woven a spell to ensnare their senses. Your Norus fell slave to that spell. It was he who sought to kill you. And you—you slew him in self-defense, no? The moment that he spoke of it, the memory came flying back. It was as if had been chained back, restrained despite its efforts to flee, and Faith’s words had been the key to unlock the fetters. She saw the blood on her hands, warm and a stark crimson. She saw the fountain spraying from a wound on his neck, saw the sword in his hand that had fallen slack to the ground. And she saw the knife in her hand, black as night.
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She did not doubt that it was her knife. Some part of her knew that fact and dismissed it as surely as she knew that water was wet—she had no need to even bring it up. It had a sense of familiarity about it, as if it was something she had held since a child, since birth. It was hers, as surely as the flesh on her bones was hers. And the more that she thought about it, the less doubt she had that she had seen Norus lunging at her with that sword. The less doubt she had that she had seen intent to kill flickering in his eyes, clouded by madness and magic. The less doubt she had that she had seen the demons smiling, had seen Willem standing passively—uncaring as Norus had tried to slay her.
No, surely this could not be true? Some voice inside of her flared up in protest, some small voice of reason that was swiftly crushed by the storm of her thoughts. But before she could express her doubt, Faith spoke. You doubt me, I know. But I was a man too, once. Would you trust them? Would you trust those mindless animals over a man? Open your eyes, Katherine. Do not blind yourself to an unwanted truth. That pulling sensation kept heaving on her, as if her guts were being slowly withdrawn from her flesh. Spittle trickled out of the corner of her mouth, even as she gritted her teeth and continued to speak. “You are not much of a man.” she retorted, feeling her heart thumping like a drum in her chest.
I am still a man, only this vessel of mine has been changed. It has been blessed by my god. And would you doubt the word of a god, compared to the veracity of a demon? Her thoughts were muddled by the strain on her mind, that incessant warping as if she was being pulled apart. “What would the demons have of me?” she demanded forcefully, driven half to madness by this unyielding pain.
Who knows? They are animals, are they not? Perhaps they would see nothing more than your body roasted on a spit. Perhaps they would have their fun with you first. Do you truly wish to wait and see? She saw the diggers laboring in the mountains before her eyes—they had been little more than slaves. Yet faced with those other options, that labor would have been a blessing. She remembered the demons tearing limbs from that slow digger, remembered that these creatures were beasts in nature and drive. More and more, Faith’s words seemed to make sense, in spite of the small voice in the back of her mind telling her to close her ears and eyes.
How could she close her ears, when the words he spoke made sense. How could she close her eyes, when she seen it all before her. These were not lies, not when her own senses had confirmed them for her. Yet she had one question still, one question that gnawed at her and filled her with a trickling doubt. “What do you want with me? Why would you see me live now, when you tried to kill me at the Gates?” she asked suspiciously, before the world around her flashed with lightning and her vision went utterly black. It was as if the flame of the sun had suddenly been snuffed out, and for a heartstopping moment she contemplated death before her vision returned.
My time here grows short, Faith whispered, a pained expression on that decaying face. You ask what I would have of you? At the Gates, you were an intruder, another arrogant fool walking on the land of my god. Yet Atal spoke to me, instructed me to approach you. He has need for a new arbiter, and you have caught his eye. And so I give you this offer, Katherine of House Black. Will you throw aside your name and life in service?
The very question seemed incredulous—serve some dark god that ruled the shadows? Yet before she could spurn him, Faith continued. You would be given power. Power enough to avoid the future that you have seen. Your friend Willem can still be saved, should you slay the demon king. Yet there is still more. Her vision flashed, and she saw corpses in front of her. The scene was hauntingly familiar, and it took her a moment to realize that it was her dream from nights ago. She could see the bodies of her mother and father, strewn amidst the rubble. There were soldier’s bodies as well, with stained armor and arrow-filled chests. And one of them, she dared not approach, for she knew it to be Revan’s. She still remembered how he had locked eyes with her before drawing that blade across his neck, and her heart became filled with fear.
Aye, this is what the future holds. My god has seen it, but the future can be altered still. Will you take my god’s power, knowing that with it you can save your family and your lover? Knowing that with it you can save your friend. Damn yourself to save their lives? Is that not a worthy trade, or are you merely too selfish to do what surely would have been done for you?
The scene before her trembled, and she was once more in that murky dreamscape. Faith was flickering in front of her, growing hazy and unclear in spite of all that he had said, in spite of all the questions that she had. My time here has come to an end. My god awaits your answer, no matter when it will come. And you will answer. Faith seemed to dissolve in front of her, as if that withered flesh was dissolving in the air. Some unfelt wind stirred, and he was strewn apart like leaves in the autumn. Black dust and flaking skin scattered into the air, blowing away with hardly a trace, even as she felt questions still pounding inside of her head.
I will be watching, she heard that whispering reply, and she knew that this tribulation of hers would not be over quickly. That pulling heaved even harder on her mind, as if she was being pulled out of this dream, and her senses went black.
There was no sight, no sound, utterly nothing before her. She could not tell how long she waited in that limbo, in that senseless void. Yet when at last there came a stirring in her mind, it was a welcome sensation. Like some rope descending down upon her, she clutched at it desperately, letting it pull her up and out of her sleep.