Chapter 8:
Ghosts of the Past
“Oh, yes, the past can hurt.
But from the way I see it,
you can either run from it...
or learn from it.”
– Rafiki, Lion King
– ***** –
“...fter his wife died, Drake came to Erwyn with his brother and son, where he decided to work for the King.”
Victoria’s head jerked up.
She had been drowsing off for less than a second, yet her dream had felt much longer and all too real. In fact, instead of a dream, the vision had been more like a cinematic she had had no control over. Carried along on the First Progenitor’s rough emotional ride, she had been like a bird caught in a thunderstorm. She wasn’t used to such raw and powerful sensitivity, she who had made a habit of compartmentalizing her feelings and throwing away what she considered bothersome.
She wiped away the red tears pearling at the corners of her eyes with the front of her dress, and the white enchanted cloth rapidly absorbed the blood they were made of.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she was still shaken when she muttered:
“…Why?”
“Why why?” the old man chuckled mischievously.
Victoria shot him an unamused glare filled with killing intent. Clearly she was not in the mood to indulge in contestable wordplays.
“He was so devoted to his Princess. How could I- he bow to another ruler? And royalty brings nothing but trouble, especially to those with power. Didn’t he decide to raise my- his son in peace?”
Damn! Fucking game, stop screwing with my mind!
“Kekeke... Even I can only guess, young one. I am not the one with access to the First's memories anymore. You are.”
Tell me about it…
“Victoria is. I'm just the one you chose to clean up your mess.”
The old man shrugged unapologetically.
“I did what I had to. And to venture an answer, young one, it might be that the First was afraid that some old enemy of his would come after the young Mordred and he thought the royal palace was safer than some remote hidden lair? That is only one possible reason amongst many. Also keep in mind that, although this secluded country might have been hit less hard than others by the tremors of the Twilight War, the right-hand man of the Fallen Dove still was a renowned figure. Hiding forever would have proven difficult.”
The arguments made sense, but Victoria was too pissed to acknowledge it verbally. Rather than agreeing, she felt more like punching the ghost until she felt better.
Is this how Thena feels all the time? This sucks so much.
After a worried glance at the prone Shieldbearer, then towards the silent village downhill, she nevertheless decided to move on. Right now, she couldn't care less about the motivations of some long dead NPC. Not when her little sister's safety was at stakes.
A passing telepath, feeling like being an ass, might have pointed out that said little sister too was no more than an NPC, but Victoria had never been a great fan of rational thinking. Especially when the world’s logic contradicted hers.
“Then, what happened?”
“At the time, the throne of Erwyn was owned by a young man named Kreiszig Erwyn. The young King accepted Drake and offered him protection for his family, but at the condition of teaching magic to himself and his two closest aids, the Grand Vizier and the Knight Captain of the Royal Guard.”
“Can't imagine how that brilliant plan went,” Victoria snickered, filled to the brim with sardonic cynicism.
“Mind you, things did not go so bad.”
“...” – Bullshito Glaru no Jutsu.
“...at first.”
“Hmpf.”
“The three were about the same age. The King was inventive and curious, the Knight Captain honourable and loyal, and the Grand Vizier kind and wise. After assessing their characters, Drake accepted to pass down part of his knowledge. It appeared Kreiszig Erwyn had a talent for necromancy. The knight, the first Ambrose Corbin, instead was suited for soul magic, leading to the foundation of House Corb-”
“Wait, aren't necromancy and soul magic basically the same?”
Despite the abrupt interruption, Ambrose rubbed his chin appreciatively, like a teacher proud of his student’s wits.
“Yes... and no. You see, young one, most Soul Mages would tell you necromancy is but a perversion of their art, while Necromancers would instead claim Soul Mages are spineless cowards who refuse to use the whole extent of their power.”
“And neither is right?” the Bloodsoul Mage guessed.
“Nor totally wrong,” the other confirmed. “At its origin, necromancy might have derived from soul magic, but over time it became a separated entity, although the similarities are enough for the division not to be obvious to the layperson.”
Victoria was listening attentively, interested despite herself.
“If you want an easy to understand metaphor, I could say soul magic is a knife while necromancy is a hammer. Most would praise the knife, for it requires more subtlety, but the hammer, though it lacks the finesse of its counterpart, sometimes is necessary and the strength needed to wield it is nothing to scoff at either.”
“So necromancy is stronger but soul magic is more versatile.”
“As usual you understand fast. Although that is but the shallowest distinction. For example, a Soul Mage will only be able to practise their art on souls existing in this mortal plane. The Necromancer however can call back souls from the Ether. On the other hand, a Necromancer will need to bind the souls to physical vessels, something the Soul Mage does not need to do and which is why the formers are often called ‘Puppeteers’. Of course, similarities also exist. Kekeke. Whether you call it [Necroblast] or [Soulblast], a big ball of killer spiritual energy in your face remains a big ball of killer spiritual energy in your face. Kekeke.”
“So they work with the same material but use it in different ways. Like an armoursmith and a swordsmith both use metal, but do not create the same item?”
“Your analogy is a little too simplistic, young one, and yet more accurate than you might think,” said the old mage, being very... old-mage-ly cryptic.
“Okay. I think I get it.” Victoria wanted to go back on topic but another detail had caught her attention, and fighting her profound curious nature wasn't something she was proficient with. “There something that has been bothering me. The King's last name was Erwyn, which kind of make sense, but how come it is Sangbleu now? Did Drake take the throne at some point?”
“Actually, it is Vangarn now. Karl Sangbleu, Victoria's father, was the last male of his line and, after his... hem… demise...”
Says the man who beheaded him... or the ghost of the man... whatever...
“... it was her mother the Queen's older brother’s third son who took over, because the eldest was a man of questionable mores who did his twin sister and the second was a human dwarf… but I digress. So no, Drake did nothing of the sort. Kreizig had a daughter, Celest, two years younger than Mordred. Usually, in such situation, it is the man who would marry into the royal family and change his household, but despite their relative ranks, Drake's name was far more prestigious than the King's, so it happened that way. And, maybe that had been the plan all along. According to the records, Celest and Mordred did love each other, but I doubt some manipulations did not took place in matching the two children. The legacy of both the Bloodsoul Mage and the Master of Death was a tad too appealing for even the most benevolent monarch after all."
Ambrose's wrinkled face became sullen for an instant. Arranged marriage was sort of a sore spot. And Victoria also felt an uncomfortable twitch from Seras, who had fallen silent once more after her earlier burst of hatred.
"Okay. So what went wrong?"
“Like I was saying, the King was a genius Necromancer, the Knight Captain a gifted yet hardworking Soul Mage, and the Grand Vizier was good at both but great at neither.”
“Wait, wouldn't that make him actually more dangerous than the other two?”
The old spirit nodded with an appreciative smile, yet happiness was absent from his eyes.
“Yes. Although he was fairly competent at best, the ability to call back souls from the Other Side and rule over them in this world is a fearsome power.”
“But wouldn't a pair composed of a Necro and a S-Mage working together obtain the same result?”
Ambrose shook his head.
“Transferring ownership over souls isn't such an easy matter. Releasing them back to the Ether is something else, as it only requires to sever their chains, but theoretically a Soul Mage cannot use the souls called back by a Necromancer. Now... the Bloodsoul Mage is quite outside the norm, but I would not recommend trying such dangerous experiment until you get a better grasp of your powers.”
“Got it. No necro-petjacking.”
Yeah, right. First zombie I see, I go Gepetto on his dead ass. We'll see who's the Puppeteer around here.
"...As long as you stay prudent." Ambrose might be old and dead, but neither blind nor delusional.
"So, I suppose the Vizier was the one who fucked things up."
"Indeed. But he was no more Grand Vizier at the time. Several centuries had passed in peace, and the charges had been transferred to a younger generation. As for the Awesome Three…”
That name…
“… they had been reduced by one. Contrary to the other two, Ambrose Corbin the First had decided to live a mortal life and his successor inherited his powers and responsibilities. The other two were greedier though, and chose to turn their bodies immortal to pursue their researches and goals. Their motivations might have been pure, however turning oneself into a lich has its consequences. They were skilled, but not to the Master of Death’s level, so their lives were lost in the process. And when one is not able anymore to feel things as simple as thirst, hunger, tiredness or pain, as well as a multitude of feelings that have both impacts on the body as well as the mind… their humanity dulls.”
“Yeepeee… more undead sociopaths…”
*cough* “…well… the former King retired in a lair of sorts to continue his experiments. He also retained his intellectual sense of duty. So he never caused too much troubles and even helped the kingdom in times of crisis. The former Grand Vizier… His goal had always been to protect mankind as a whole…”
“No, no,” Victoria interrupted. “Let me guess that one. *cough* I’d say… In his fabulous wisdom, he concluded that the decadent mankind was essentially flawed or something, and decided to eradicate the worthless and rebuilt the human race based on his own standards?”
“How did you know?”
Of course!
The player furiously resisted the urge to facepalm.
“Please call He-Man and the Avengers. I’m not in the mood to deal with a fusion of Skeletor and Ultron.”
“Call who?”
“Ancient heroes… Forget it. Instead, you never told me the name of that Prime Sinister.”
“Oh. He was called Jafar. Jafar Judrasputin.”
“…”
“Young one?”
“GET THE FUCKING CLUE!!!”
Ah no… right… NPCs… Can’t get pop-culture reference. But those designers, really.
“Are you alright, young one?”
“Yeah. Yes. I just underestimated my opponents. Also, you never told me either exactly what happened during the Twilight War.”
“I do not know. In the first place, Erwyn was at the outskirts of the conflict, so the records are few. And Drake Sangbleu never shared much about his past. You will have to search those answers by yourself.”
“How convenient…”
“You said something?”
“No. Please proceed with General Zod’s cliché master plan.”
“Who?”
“Just… Just keep talking,” Victoria sighed, rubbing the bride of her nose.
“…Alright. As you guessed, Jafar…”
Oh God… that name sooo sucks the seriousness out of the situation.
“…concluded humanity was mad and bound to chaos. He therefore founded the Cult of Sanity to ‘purge the world’ in the ‘Great Salvation’ as the records state.”
The Pissed Entity: Bunch of delusional asses.
*sigh* “Of course you would have something to say ‘bout this… What’s wrong? I’d have thought that you would like an army of doom ravaging the world. Seems pretty… chaotic to me?”
Chaos: Well… yeah… but no. I mean, the process is fun. But they themselves were as boring as watching a mountain grow and… well… if everyone is dead, I’ll be the one troubled. You know, a god without followers is as good as dead.
“That’s… interesting.”
Chaoooops: Ah. I shouldn’t have said that… Well, I don’t care myself, but many of the others believe that mortals should fear us as absolute entities, or they would desert us or something. And I don’t really want those guys to all band against me… I already have enough problem dealing with that klutz pestering me about where I hid her cru- Ah.
“…”
Very Mighty God: *cough* *cough* Anyway, be a good Mine follower, and destroys that annoying Sanity bunch.
“Only if I feel like it.”
Smiley: That’s the spirit!
“Hem… Young one? Who is it you might be talking to?”
Victoria started. She had become so used to being alone in her tower with the Stalker God for sole company, that she had reflexively answered, neither minding the time nor the place. The Elder was now gazing at her with a quizzical look on his face.
The dhampir hesitated a couple seconds, then decided she didn’t care and answered with a vague encompassing gesture:
“The Stalking Entity that governs all Madness in this fucked-up world…”
Ambrose eyes widened and his mouth hang slightly agap. Victoria found the sight funny and wondered if she could manage to send a blood knife in his throat, and whether of not it would have an effect on the disembodied grandpa.
Might be worth testing…
“You talk directly to the gods?” His voice was filled with stunned disbelief.
“One,” the Chosen of Chaos shrugged. “And it’s more like he talks to me. You know what they say. ‘If you talk to G- Him, you’re religious. If He talks to you, you’re psychotic.’ Though with this particular Idiot, I think you’re somehow crazy in both cases…”
Victoria’s gaze became distant and dead, then she snapped out of it and shrugged.
“Well, that’s how it is. Don’t let it bother you.”
“Mmmh… Yes. After all, it makes sense you above all others would be an Apostle of Chaos. The simple fact you are able to remain yourself while under my beloved’s curse… and to do so without any training moreover… It can only mean that your mind is not working normally. As expected, I was right in choosing you.”
“… I will try to take that as a compliment. Now, you were talking about Jaf-”
*ting*
From: Siri
To: Victoria Sangbleu
So, that wobbly pirate captain guy, did he beat the octopus man in the end? Or was it the useless love-stricken one and his noble girlfriend who kicked asses?
“Aaaargh… Please wait two seconds.”
She quickly sent back the long answer she had pre-written in prevision of the question.
The suspicious Not-GM continuously asked Victoria for stories and various things, but her – the player assumed Siri was a “her” based on the tone of her written speech – mysterious “job” kept interrupting them. The princess had rapidly taken the habit of preparing her answers in advance, as the conversation could resume at any time. Victoria still hadn’t gotten around to asking Siri who – or what – she was exactly, but she already had her suspicions.
“And… done. So, that Jafar?”
Too much Disney. …stupid… Oh, come on. Not you too.
“… You seem to be a much demanded person.”
“I have an extensive fan club.”
“I see… *cough* Well, to make a long story short, Jafar tried to kill a whole lot of people, but Drake, the Corbin of the time and Kreizig stopped him.”
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
“…Wait. Isn’t that too short?”
“Unfortunately that victory was not complete and came with a price. Jafar was vanquished, but they did not succeed in killing him. He was sealed...”
Why do they always stop at sealing troublesome things? Please think of us future uncommitted heroes.
“…and Drake died in the confrontation. He had already been nothing but the shadow of his former self, both from the sadness of losing his wife and because of a curse that had been eating away at his life ever since the final battle against Sean Haricot.”
“Who?”
“The Ever-Dying King.”
“Oh.”
Am I really supposed to take this seriously?
Victoria made a last attempt at recollecting her thoughts and asking a constructive question.
“What about Mordred?”
“He was already long dead too. He had been but a simple human. A powerful mage and a great Necromancer, yes, but he never desired immortality. Also, oddly enough, it would seem the vampire inheritance from the Progenitor cannot awake as long as the preceding is still alive.”
“How convenient…”
“You said something?”
“No. Does that mean the King at the time of Jafar’s rebellion was a simple human too?”
“Yes it does. And even the death of the Progenitor did not mean another would awake. As years passed and the blood from the First thinned in the royal family, emergence became rarer and rarer until it was forgotten… Leading to a tragedy.”
Victoira was graceful enough not to give her opinion about poor management of sensitive information… or gutting your wife on a hunch.
“And what does this have to do with the current situation?”
“Yes. Yes… About three centuries ago, the Cult of Sanity became active again. From the little information I managed to gather, Jafar broke away from the seal…”
Why am I not surprised? Fuck you Aizen Jafar.
“…and tried to take his revenge on Kreizig.”
“That guy was still alive?”
“What matter of ‘immortal’ do you not understand?”
“Well, the successive Porgenitors were technically immortals too. That didn’t prevent them from dying, no?”
“Ah… True enough, young one. Mmmmh… I would venture that actively protecting a kingdom and experimenting in a remote cave present different degrees of danger to oneself. Besides, remember that the blood of the vampires was thinned out in the royals. Only dhampir sometimes appeared in the Sangbleu family anymore.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
“It does indeed. Anyway… Something happened during the clash between the two archliches, leading to… this.” He made a wide annoyed gesture towards the ominous blanket of grey clouds. “I do not know if it was failure or success of a sortilege that brought forth this abomination, but ever since, condensed dark magic has covered this land, raising back from the dead any soul who fell.”
Victoria raised her head and looked up.
“So these are pure magic and not water?”
“Not pure, but close enough. That is also why vegetation can still grow. The Sun still shines upon Erwyn. We just cannot see Him, nor can He see us.”
“She.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” she sighed. Then she titled her head, and asked: “Then, how come I’m not more… shish-kebabed?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Overcooked? Burned? Reduced to a pile of ashes that would only be a threat to someone with terminal asthma?”
“Oh. That is because the ambient dark necrotic mana counteracts the cleansing effects of the sunlight.”
“How convenient…”
“You said something?”
“No. That still doesn’t explain what the fuck is going on,” she noted. “How come a mage of your calibre is not more aware of what exactly happened between the… Awesome Two? And wasn’t your Corbin house supposed to be under a non-immortality policy? Excuse me if I misinterpreted, but you do not exactly look your two thousand years, Ambrose. And I still don’t get how all this crap is related to why the village is suddenly empty. AND you better stop talking history and get to the point before I start wondering if strangling you wasn’t a more productive activity than listening to your bullshit!!”
Victoria had let herself be engrossed in the background explanations, but now her anger was coming back again, reinforced by irritation towards herself who could get side-tracked so easily.
“Kekeke. It has all to do, young one. Should I answer your questions in order then?”
“And please be concise.”
That was the pot asking the kettle not to be black, but Victoria, being Victoria, didn’t care.
“Kekeke. Then… After my… stupid mistake two millennia ago, my men came after me. I was a general you know? Anyway… Together we tried to break the curse, but to no avail.”
“And nobody thought of getting a girl to kiss you?”
“That idea was mentioned. But that did not exactly break the curse, did it? My objective was not to be freed, but to free my beloved. What exactly would happen to her if we tried to circumvent the sortilege was too big of an unknown to be worth the risk. This is why I only sent men after you.”
“I see, you couldn’t break the curse, so you thought maybe someone else could, but you didn’t want to risk hurting your unstable spirit of a girlfriend and instead sent men to their death.”
Ambrose snorted.
“Like you adventurers would be inconvenienced by something as trivial as death.”
The dhampir player just glared.
“In any case… After several years of failure, I decided to go out and search for a cure myself. Victoria’s soul was entrusted to one of my men-”
“You mean you let one of your men get cursed in your stead.”
The ghost waved off the remark and continued:
“…and I went away. I eventually found a passable solution, however the power necessary to enact it was beyond even me. That is why I came back here. To guard the entrance to Nowhere until someone with knowledge I had not came with a way I could not think of. Or someone with power greater than mine and that I could trust beyond doubt, but that was very much unlikely. Feeling my death near, I used a forbidden technique of my family to bind my soul to this world. In this I managed to stay, but I was now bonded to the land where I casted the spell and could not leave anymore.”
“Even with the limited movement restriction, that doesn’t seem to warrant being called a ‘forbidden technique’,” the Bloodsoul Mage pointed out.
“That is because it severed my bond to the afterlife. I am forced to stay here until my energy depletes and my soul dissolves into nothingness. This is a fate worse than death, but it shall be my punishment.”
“And then?” she asked sharply.
Victoria didn’t even feel a shred of compassion for the trickster spirit before her.
“My men decided to stay with me. Thankfully, I found a way to use my own soul as an anchor. Their souls are bonded to mine, so they remained in this world, but they will still go to the Other Side once my time comes. Granting a soul a physical form takes a lot out of the mage, but I had a way to tape into the ley lines around here, so power wasn’t an issue. Thus I founded the village of Kansas.”
A sense of dread dawned on Victoria. She didn’t like where this was going. She had suspicions, but those suspicions were slowly turning into certitudes and she was suddenly overcome with the need to puke.
“Unfortunately, three hundred years ago, the Great Demise occurred and the Guardian of the surrounding forest was corrupted too. The sacred river became tainted with necrotic magic and now any soul that falls in this place is swept down the river to feed the Guardian. It is troublesome as now I cannot risk to release my subordinates. And my power is slowly weakening. The sacred stone I once used to cast the spell was destroyed and-”
“WAIT!! Is that the stone YOU told me to destroy?!”
“Because that was what shackled my soul to this place! However it was also the source that allowed me to partially slow down my own decay. Still! When I learned that adventurers had finally come to this world, and that Sanity’s influence was still so strong, I could not bear to delay anymore.”
He clenched his fists and his golden eyes filled with fire.
“Wait here for a short eternity as a slowly dying candle, in hope that someone, someday, may, by chance, stumble upon this forgotten place, and miraculously in possession of the unlikely solution to my problem? Or live my last days as a blazing flame burning to accomplish my life goal, and maybe do some good in passing?! Kekekekeke! There was no decision to be made!! … Who would have known though, that the one who gave me the courage to finally act would be the one to bring me a piece of the solution? It seems bringing all those men here was a futile endeavour in the end. I had hope in you, young Elric, but I learned long ago that hope is a very traitorous friend.”
The ancient soul’s tone grew more and more enthusiast as he talked, but Victoria’s heart only tightened painfully. She didn’t want to ask. She didn’t need to. It made far too much sense, but she refused to acknowledge what her often-twisted logic was telling her.
“… and… Dorothy?”
Amrbose sobered up, and looked into the self-proclaimed older sister’s fearful eyes.
“Three hundred years ago. A few days after I felt the surge of power that came with the Great Demise, I was patrolling to the outer limit of my self-imposed restraints, beyond the illusion barrier I had created. That time, I came upon a family of three who were assaulted by a horde of newly raised undead. I ran to their help but…”
Victoria was already up.
“…by the time I reached them, there was none left to be saved. I only managed to rescue the soul of the daughter before the Guardian…”
Victoria was long out of earshot.
“…”
– *** –
As Athena’s consciousness came back to her, she witnessed the slowly disappearing figure of an old man shaking his head in sad resignation. Then she turned her head towards where a small itchy sensation indicated Victoria was. The dhampir princess was running towards the village. The Shieldbearer saw her stumble and fall, but she immediately got back up and continued to run as if her life was on the line.
“Go.”
The word, barely a whisper, came from beside her, but no one was there.
She hesitated for a second, then decided understanding could wait, and rushed after the girl she had come to think of as a friend.
– *** –
Out of breath and painful from her several falls, Victoria reached the bottom of the hill and stepped into the silent village of Kansas.
*ting*
Area Notification
You entered the village of [Kansas]. As the current sole inhabitant of the village, ownership of [Kansas] has been transferred to you.
“FUCK THIS!!!”
She blindly slashed across the window and continued her mad race towards the blue-tiled house that stood near the main square. As soon as she reached the glorified shack, another notification informed her the building belonged to her, but she dismissed it without a look.
Not slowing down, she slammed into the heavy blue door. A loud crack resounded and she slid to the ground, clutching her shoulder and cursing out all her repertoire.
A shadow fell on her. She raised her tearful eyes and, through the red haze, she recognised the overbearing figure of her Shieldbearer companion. In silence, the tall woman helped her back up and pushed the jammed door open effortlessly. Victoria’s thanks were barely audible as she stumbled inside.
The place was as she remembered it, with few furniture, a patched-up stove and three doors leading to two bedrooms and the closet that had been repurposed as Elric’s during his stay. A thick layer of dust covered everything, and on the table sat a familiar stuffed animal clutching a note in its mechanised jaws.
Shakily, Victoria reached out and snatched the note.
I am sorry, Big Brother. You told me to always keep my promises, but I lied. I could not wait. And I could not take care of Toto the Second either. Sorry. Playing with Big Brother Elric was fun. And I am really happy you came back. Thank you.
Goodbye.
I love you, Big Brother.
*ting*
Quest update:
There’s no place like home.
You have upheld your promise to the little Dorothy and came back to her home in Kansas. The child is not there anymore, but her proof of gratitude remains behind.
Consequences:
Receive ownership of all of Dorothy’s possessions.
You have levelled up!
“Hahaha… Haha… Fuck this…” She crushed the note in her hands. “Fuck… What the hell… Is this a JOKE?! THAT’S SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNY?! HUH?!! BECAUSE I’M SO FUCKING LAUGHING RIGHT NOW!! HAHAHAHAHA…AAAAAAAAAAH!!”
Screaming in rage, she grabbed the plush dog by the throat with the intent of throwing it at the wall. Then she interrupted her action, and slowly dropped the Toto back on the table, instead grabbing the nearest chair and slamming it against the ground.
The piece of furniture bounced harmlessly of the rough floor, as if to mock her lack of strength, while an acute stab of pain pierced her shoulder.
“AAAAAH!! DAMN!! DAMN THIS BODY!! DAMN THIS OLD FART!! DAMN THIS VILLAGE!! DAMN THIS CURSED FUCKING COUNTRY!! I DON’T WANT A FREAKING LEVEL!! GIVE ME BACK MY SISTER!! FUCKING GAME!! YOU LIKE THAT TOYING WITH ME?!! HUH?!?! GIVE HER BACK!! GIVE ME… Give me… my sister… my little… Dorothy… give… waaahaaaahaa…”
Acceptance finally reached her brain, and the veil of anger and denial shifted to uncontrollable sobbing and she slumped to the ground.
Standing stunned on the doorstep, Athena felt oddly out of place. The reality of the situation escaped her as the foolish and light-hearted princess suddenly succumbed to a fit of mad anger, followed by broken cries. It was like looking at herself through a bizarre deforming glass and she had no idea how to react. Her elder sister would have known what to do. The strong young woman had always been a rock Athena could cling onto when she was at her lowest.
The Shieldbearer would have liked to be the same rock for her friend, but instead she remained immobile, unable to move, afraid to hurt this fragile girl if her violent self dared to get any closer.
…Fuck! What unbreakable Shieldbearer?! What strong goddess? I can’t even console a crying friend. What lame excuse for a human being am I?
While Athena debated with her own self-loathing, Victoria’s cries slowly receded and she quietly stood up.
“Vicky…”
The dhampir princess turned in her direction. She was standing straight but the usual tension that inhabited her, like she was about to start skipping anytime, had apparently left home. Her eyes were tired, inexpressive, and actually a little scary on her face covered in blood.
Victoria’s gaze passed over her companion like she wasn’t there, then stopped on the dusty dog sitting on the table. Still in silence, she grabbed the large toy and brought it in a hug.
“Vicky-”
“Thena.” The voice was low, factual. “It’s already late. I’m sure you have somewhere else to be. I’d like to be alone for a little while. It’s okay. I can’t stay sad for too long anyway. I’ll be back in shape by the time you log in tomorrow, don’t worry. Oh… right. You can use that room. It’s probably a bit dusty, but nobody else is going to use it anyway. And this house is mine anyway, right? Haha… ha…”
Without a look towards the worriedly confused Athena, Victoria vaguely gestured towards the chamber that used to be Martha’s, then walked inside Dorothy’s bedroom – she couldn’t refer to it as Dorothy’s former bedroom – and closed the door behind her.
The tall copper-headed woman, left behind in the dusty cold room, took a step to follow her distraught friend… then stopped.
What could she do anyway? She was just a big dump blunt instrument that couldn’t do much besides taking hits instead of others. She had no idea how to deal with this kind of situation. How could she, when she had never been able to even deal with her own issues?
She’ll be okay… She said it herself, right? I can’t help her anyway.
Cursing herself for being so useless, Athena went to lay down on the bed in the room she had been given, glad to accept the exit door Victoria had offered her.
Even now, she always takes care of me.
Then she did the only thing she ever did when brute strength didn’t suffice.
She ran away.
“Log out.”
– ▲▲▲▲▲ –
----------------------------------------
Yeah… I’m not in a good mood these days… The weather is too hot… Good series take too much time to get updated… My head hurts…
*sigh* See you next chapter.