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The Vacuous Stranger
.10 Those who continue to live

.10 Those who continue to live

Those deities from another realm, the implication of their very existent is daunting. Are there yet another realm out there, filled with unknown horrors. Or more possibly, many more innocent worlds, ripe to be enlightened like what happened here. A century ago, the world was thriving on a rise from a magical golden age. Mass developments of artefacts were available, providing more and more mages with the tools necessary to realise their visions. But those ‘visions’, are nothing but horrifying.

To be a mage means searching for knowledge, to a scholar. In an effort of betterment, the magically adepts continued to push the limit of what possible. The destructiveness of their spells could send shiver down on side.

But the more they learnt, the bigger the scale they could see on.

Their powers could reach thousands, maybe even more, the mages couldn’t see the individuals anymore. Is that the true progression of power, of knowledge? If so, then the deities are truly the end of evolution.

The end arrived when the scholars of the world learnt of a realm of pure knowledge and comprehension. In their desire for understanding, mages around the world opened peek-holes through to that mysterious realm, all around the world at once. Those behind the veil gaze back and they world and all of its mighty civilisations, poof, gone without a trace.

To be graced by mere representations of their visages was enough to cause madness on a scale unimaginably massive. Their knowledge impossible to comprehend, people, animals, plants, every living being distorted themselves, mutated just to better receive the deities’ message. The ground zeros, the castles, the cities where those mages once lived are even worse. Not many returned from there, none could remain sane.

In their mad rambling, tales of terrible monstrosities could be heard, causing madness on mere sight. But most curiously are the architectures, buildings made out of cold mindless stone also bended according to the deities. They morphed into impossible structures, but when the madness had taken over, suddenly those made so much more sense.

Bruno has heard of the tales, a cautionary story for mages of the new world and a reminder why the world will despise them.

“This place, is it one of those kingdoms of old… or another realm altogether” He wondered out loud.

“Is there even a difference between the two” The priest replied.

In front of them is a battle, but Bruno couldn’t stay connected to it. The Smiling Hunter versus the monster from the depth, not an even fight at all. The creature is fast and strong, moves in a manner not natural for such a humanoid shape. From its wounds sprout out vicious tentacles, capable of tearing a man apart. And yet, this battle is one-sided, tipped to the Smiling Hunter side with all of her human glory.

Zipping pasts the vicious barrages of tentacles and claws, Siobhan systematically tears the monster apart with her blade. A cut to the knee to bring it down, then running up, stabbing the thing in both of its eyes. She jumps off before the inevitable could even touch her.

“How could this be…” Bruno couldn’t believe his eyes “Is this normal for a Blind?” He is human, she is human, yet what is this impossible gulf between them. The creature screeches as one its arm is completely ripped off, red blood dripping. Attached to it, Marisa also creams out in pain.

“Oh no, not at all, I have faced against many and I can tell you. The number of Blinds who could perform like this? They can be counted on one hand” Father Walker offered his insight “It’s easy to recognise them, they tend to be older than most”

Age, an insignificant number in the waste, but not for a Blind. Dedicated their lives to fighting the unknowns, their age means the years they spent surviving. And after so many encounters, after so many monstrosities that far surpass human capabilities, they evolve. Their pasts forgotten, their whole existences revolve around extermination.

But there is also another reason why they could fight with such monstrosities.

“These deities, Scy’lla and others, they seem all so… impossibly above. And yet, how come their creations even bleed?” Bruno wondered. The monster in front is humanoid, that much is recognisable, its blood is also red. It screams out after every cut, a twisting shrill, this… spawn of the incomprehensible seems so… mortal.

“Oh, that’s because of their nature” Father Walker answered “What do you think it is?”

“Impossible to comprehend?” The man replied ignorant.

The answer is simple but terrifying, it fills Bruno with a looming dread.

“No, it’s kindness, the deities are a helpful kind” The priest said “We once thirsted for knowledge and that was exactly, they gave us. They listened to our prayer, our wishes, our desires and replied dutifully. This child is a new-born, I can send it, born as a way for us to communicate. We are supposed to understand it, it is supposed to bleed red”

Bruno gazes at the monster, the supposed baby, all battered and apart. It wheezes painfully, struggling for air. It doesn’t understand what is happening, just moments it first opened its eyes to see the world for the first time. It wanders around in childlike curiosity, only to be hurt, to be torn apart. The Smiling Hunter looks over, disappointed from the challenge, she had expected something more.

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With the last of its strength, the monster lashes out. Siobhan simply dodges the claw swipes then proceed to cut the helpless creature again and again and again and again, all the while giggling like a young girl. How unbefitting of someone her age, yet the woman doesn’t care.

The monster screams fill the air, the shrill replaced with something more human. Bruno can’t help but feel sick in the stomach. A part of him wants to stop this torture but then his eyes meet with Marisa’, then his resolve strengthens. The priest watches on in disapproval, this child is not a spawn of his deity, Azu. But it is still just a new-born, struggling for life. At least before it dies, the baby would get to feel pain, a true delight.

Finally, the suffering is over. The monster took its last breath and perishes.

There is only one prey to hunt, Siobhan raises her blood over the monster’s mother.

“STOP” Bruno dashes forward only to be kicked away by a back turn, he crawls up “Gah… I can’t let you hurt her, my friend… stop”

“And why should I” The Smiling Hunter look over her back “Why don’t you see your ‘friend’ here”

Bruno stands up, clutching his chest. Looking up, what he sees is his friend, Marisa, weeping. Clutching the body of the monster, she weeps for her child. Words come out of her mouth, but they are impossible to comprehend. The sound of her crying is also indecipherable, foreign. But Bruno can fully understand the meaning behind, it’s sadness.

Marisa lets out an inhuman shrill as the steel blade stabs through her head. She collapses on her baby, all wrung out.

At that moment, the world around them seemingly collapses. The temple without its people, a home without life, the spiral world around them simply disappears.

Letting out a grasp, Bruno opens his eyes, back in the waste.

“We need to continue moving” Father Walker, back to normal pulls the man up gently.

And so, the three leaves the cave, their detour comes to a close. On their way, Bruno looks down at a puddle, from the still surface, he can see his reflection. His exposed skull is forever changed, spiral pattern runs all over it, going deeper inside. The man sighs and runs up to the Smiling Hunter, there is something he wants, he needs to say.

“What is it, Mr. Raider?” She looks back and asks mockingly.

Facing the woman, Bruno recoils back a bit, overwhelmed, he still speaks up his mind “I just want to say… you are really amazing, and thank you, for granting them death” He isn’t strong enough, both physically and mentally to carry that task. Oh, how convenient for him to find an executioner, oh how is he still alive even.

“Don’t sweat it, it’s ma’ job” She completely brushes the man’s sentiment away. ‘Thank you’, now that something she has heard countless times. Those words have lost their meaning, their weight.

“How do you do it?” Bruno suddenly asked, he didn’t even know why “How can you keep on going?”

“Hmm, because of this of course” Siobhan turns back and pulls up her mask slightly. Underneath, a part of her mouth is stripped to the bone, with meat and skin stitching on. But that isn’t what she wants to show. No, what underneath that mask is a smile and on the other side of the horror show is… wrinkles.

The old woman pulls the mask back down.

“I met that crimson harlot, she continues to live and yet she continues to smile. She helped me realise, every moment that I am alive is a miracle. So, either I could be miserable and threw it all away or I could smile. That I can be happy for every single breath I take, every step I take, every beat of my heart” Siobhan answered with a sincerity so foreign coming from her, it’s almost incomprehensible “That’s how I am able to keep on going, by enjoying every moment of my life”

Her tone soon returns to normal, that joking mocking voice “Well, if you want to know how I can keep on going walking, then it’s because of these boots” Lowering her voice, she whispers “They are really comfortable!”

Needless to say, Bruno is surprised, he didn’t expect to receive an actual answer from her. It reminds him of something his teacher used to say, ‘Old people, there aren’t many of them out there, but those who do sure love passing down what they had learnt. And when they speak you listen, Bruno, we mages always strive to learn more, to reach an understanding’. Although hearing her talking about her boots do reminds the man of something.

He looks at his bare foot to find his soles long gone. His meat and tendon exposed, hardened from exposure with spiral pattern all over. Whatever, at least it doesn’t hurt now.

Bruno continues walking, every step he takes stained with the blood of his friends. Mark, who sacrificed himself to the deity so he could live. For them, he will continue walking. Looking at Siobhan back, Bruno makes a silent resolution, after this is over, he will continue to live, he won’t let her kill him… That’s easier said then done, the man sighs.

Next to him, Bruno can see the priest looking disappointed.

“What’s wrong?” The man asked nervously.

“If you have question about life, you can ask me you know” Father Walker answered “That’s what a priest supposed to do”

“Really?” Bruno wondered about that. From the books, he knew a form of power known as the church used to exist, but it collapsed along with the old world. Priests were those who serve under that system, there are paintings of them remained, but the profession is no more. “So the church still exists somewhere right? You are a priest after all”

“Oh no…” Father Walker replied “I am not a priest of the church, not anymore, that was a century ago already. I am now a devout follower of pain”

“Wait! Are you saying you are over a hundred-year-old!” Bruno wants to believe that the priest is jesting, but something within him knows that isn’t the case.

“Yes, Azu gave me eternal life so I can continue on living in pain” The priest said.

“You can’t even kill yourself?” The man is now curious.

“Oh, that’s easy, I just need to run into a Blind barrack and it’s all done for me” Father Walker, laughing out loud. Siobhan also turns back, taunting him with her crossbow. The man simply ignores the bolt flying past him “I am alive because I choose to be alive”

“So, do you enjoy the pain?”

“No, of course not, if that’s the case then it isn’t pain anymore, it’s a fetish” Father Walker replied immediately with utmost seriousness “No, when Azu dawned on our church bringing inhuman suffering, everyone died from shock. But not me, I realised that… only in pain do we truly exist, that we can be our true self. And I have continued to walk this world, hoping to pass down that teaching to other. Now that, is what a priest does”

‘There is certainly all kind’ Bruno thought to himself, all the while distancing himself with Father Walker in case he suddenly decides to preach. The man wonders, if he survives whatever is going on, what kind of person would he be. If he survives, now that’s a tall order.