Chapter

“I need to get a handle on myself,” Mikel grumbled as he began retying his armor. He had one of the books in his bag turned to a chapter that detailed efficient packing, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make his pack and armor look like the pictures.

“Gods be damned,” Mikel said as he tossed the breastplate of the armor behind him with a grimace, “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Things aren't supposed to be like this.”

Mikel put his head into his hands and sniffed as involuntary tears leaked out.

“Such a bitch,” He muttered into his hands, “You aren’t your father’s son. You're a disgrace to your house and your name.”

Mikel stayed there for a while, smelling the smoke in the air and the sharp tang of iron that coursed through his nose - something that always accompanied his tears.

A rough laugh rattled through him but he stayed put until he sniffed again and wiped at his face with the rough heel of his hand.

“I guess the worst is I just die,” he laughed again and made to tie more of the armor down. There was only so far self-pity could get you.

Mikel didn’t have time to react as the front window of Helsket’s home crashed in and a lithe figure wrapped in shadow rolled through and rose up like a cobra in front of Mikel.

All he could do was utter a confused “Wha-” before the strange shadow figure cast a very human hand out as a blueish-purple glyph-filled design slammed into his chest like a boulder crashing down a mountain.

The air left his lungs with a “whoompf” sound and he fell back, his head striking the discarded breastplate as his entire body froze solid in a wash of razor-sharp static. Even the recoil from his body was arrested and Mikel was left lying in a strange contortion that appeared as if he were eternally on the cusp of falling into a deep, black chasm with no escape.

What the hels? Was all he could think as the assailant swept in towards him, as silent as death and mirroring the reaper's image.

Mikel still unable to react, screamed mentally as the figure raised a wickedly sharp dagger, curved like a cat’s claw, and plunged it down towards his exposed belly.

Even through the static, even before the blade connected, he could feel the pain of what was to come. He would have closed his eyes if he could - he would have moved if he could - he would have screamed.

But all he could do was wait and watch as if time had slowed down, as the knife plunged towards him and certain death. It inched towards him, slowing further and further which left Mikel wondering vaguely if this was how everyone’s last moments were. Pain, suffering, and confusion are drawn out forever until the inevitable end.

Then as if in a dream, everything froze.

Mikel blinked and sucked in a grateful breath as the static holding him in place, shattered, and he rolled to the side away from the assailant and came up in a fighting stance.

It was obvious something was wrong with the black-clad assassin and they weren't moving. He skittered to the side, grabbed his sword, and yanked it from the scabbard, leveling it at the shadow's throat in a single smooth motion. If death hadn't been pounding in his ears he would have been impressed with himself.

“Who -” Mikel barked before he realized something really was… Off. He hadn't imagined it.

The assailant was frozen in place - as if time had actually stopped. It wasn’t just his perception - the assassin wasn’t even breathing. It was like the Skill they had used on him had backfired somehow.

Some part of Mikel pitied the frozen body. He'd only been unable to breathe for a few tense seconds - thirty seconds had already passed since he'd regained his composure.

Then a question popped into his head, driving away the subtle bit of celebration he'd had for the briefest moment.

“Am I… Dead?” Mikel asked as his free hand jumped to his stomach, where the blade had been aimed, and brought the palm up to examine it.

No blood. No guts. Nothing.

“What in the hels?” he repeated as he moved the blade slightly and brushed against the assailant’s cloaked head.

The blade shifted the material, but by some strange trick of the light or some magical effect, the person’s face remained hidden.

“Magic... Essentia-infused cloth,” Mikel mumbled as his mind broke down the last few seconds and played them back again and again, allowing him to parse out some small meaning from the mess he'd been jumped into.

The person had plunged through the window and had attacked him with an Essentia Skill, but one Mikel had never heard of nor seen.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

He couldn’t remember the exact pattern the Essentia Skill had taken but the effect was obvious.

Complete physical paralysis.

“Frozen,” He said, moving away from the silent, still attacker. He kept his eyes trained on them while his free hand scrambled for his scabbard. He'd escaped the Skills stricture - why wouldn't the assassin?

When he found the leather holster he pulled it to his waist, slid the sword home then tied it off to his belt. He didn't look at the operation once and would have again been impressed with his quick skill development.

“Hello,” He said, standing up and walking toward the person, “Are… you there?”

He figured as long as he stood far enough back and kept his wits about him. He felt confident, even if the attacker got free, he could hold his own now the element of surprise was gone.

Mikel took a moment and examined the person.

The clothing they wore was thick, dark and obscured any hint of what they looked like underneath the outfit. The dagger was strange - curved as he’d seen and crusted with jewels all along the hilt. A knuckle-sized sapphire adorned the end of the hilt with a large crack running through it. The person’s features, like their body, were obscured, leaving little evidence of age, sex or race.

“Frozen. Really frozen,” Mikel mumbled as he did a circuit around the person, careful to not step on the broken glass or the wood frame which had held the window in place.

He was on the second rotation around the person when he froze and realized there was more to this than he’d thought.

Mikel darted to the gaping hole that used to be a glass window, this time his boots crushing the forgotten glass, and peered out.

What he saw made his stomach drop. His mind reeled in tune with his heart hammering - the beat so strong and heavy he felt as if it might burst from his chest. This was the same terror he’d felt in the dream with the Time Demon. It was irrevocable and inescapable. There was nothing he could do as he took in his surroundings and despaired. Whatever force had saved him had also damned him. From where he stood there was no way out of the latest mess he found himself in.

Everyone, everything, from the clouds of dust in the air to the birds in the sky - all were frozen as if arrested in a macabre painting where oil was replaced by blood and canvas by flesh.

“What in the name of the gods-” Mikel started but was interrupted by a familiar, aching chill on his chest.

Then, frigid pain overtook his body.

He scrambled back, hands ripping wildly at his shirt as he tried to yank the Callisto Jewel free. The artifact had come to life and was pouring cold and pain into him as if a spigot had been opened - the flood that rushed through him was more than enough to rip every thought, feeling, and emotion he had away in a second. There was nothing he could do as the pain subsumed everything he was - every second that ticked by allowed the rush to continue unabated.

A flood of frozen death.

He crashed onto the couch, screaming in pain. His shirt tore and before he finally managed to rip The Jewel free it had sunk so much pain and suffering into him he felt it might be better to die. When he finally pulled it loose and held it away from his body it still burned with a seething, bubbling power reminiscent of boiling blood. The cold ripped off of it like a blizzard, but at least it wasn't plastered to his body anymore.

Screams filled his mind as his eyes locked on the gem. Confusion and anger along with coursing, raw, red pain his whole world.

What was happening? What was going on?

Mikel’s world became the blood boiling within the gem - his experience the screaming - the pain of multitudes sacrificed to make The Jewel his existence.

His neck muscles cramped as his teeth began to grind against one another like tombstones, screaming in protest as if the dead would rise from their graves at the end of all things.

It was all he could do to hold his shaking hand up, while the gem sought to plunge itself back to his chest - back to the searing cold once more.

Mikel was about to pass out, he’d fought as long as he could. Whatever was going on with The Callisto Jewel, whatever attack it was mounting against him, he was about to lose.

His vision blurred at the edges as darkness crept in and the screaming in his mind turned to static which consumed every mental prompting possible - then it all came to a crashing halt, as if another Skill had slammed into his chest, as a strange new figure suddenly materialized in the room.

Mikel’s gaze was drawn to the figure with inexorable strength. He was already spent just holding back The Jewel, and now, the assault compounded as his cramped neck muscles roiled and popped in protest as they were forced to work. He didn't want to look at the thing; its aura saturated the room, a worlds worth worse than The Dread ever could be.

He would have screamed if able. He would have done anything.

But all Mikel could do was watch as his gaze was dragged toward the figure amid mounting horror, pain, and the renewed threat of a violent, blood end.

When his eyes fell on the form - the creature beyond the assassin, all he could do was watch as the now familiar form stalked towards him with the sureness of death.

The form was skeletal, tall, emaciated, and corpse-pale. A black blindfold covered the upper half of its face, while sharp, dead teeth erupted from the emaciated and nearly nonexistent lips. Every tendon and muscle was evident along its neck, shoulders, chest, and torso - its deathly skinny legs barely concealed behind a flowing cloak of black, every bit as dark as the assailant's cloak. In its skeletal hands it carried a scythe; the long curving blade nearly reaching the floor from where the creature held out the grim haft parallel to the ground. A necklace with a gold amulet shaped like a splattered tear drop adorned its neck. It wore no other jewelry or clothing.

Mikel wanted to scream - but all he could do was stare in terror and recognition.

He knew this thing. He'd seen it before.

He'd fought it.

The creature had the face from when he’d been asleep in the Market of Dreams. This very face, half shrouded now, had plagued his nights without him remembering - but now, with its cruel visage plain for all to see, the hidden memories came ripping back.

The Time Demon had returned - this time, deadlier, armed, and lethal. Unlike in Mikel’s dream, where the demon had been nothing more than a dumb beast, this creature exuded refined intelligence and malice. It was every bit as cruel as it was smart - and it was clear it wanted Mikel to know every inch of the superiority it held over him.

Then as it drew closer and the seething cold from the Callisto Jewel peaked, the voice came - cruel and as cold as a hiss from the grave. The voice came, but the things teeth stayed glued together, unmoving. Its free hand index finger traveled towards him before stopping as The Time Demon pointed at Mikel with the accusation of a god against the guilty.

“Your death does not belong to this one,” The creature gestured towards the assailant with its scythe, “Your death belongs only to me. I toppled the first bone in your house's demise - and I shall witness the final one's demise.”

Harsh static raced over Mikel’s body as the thing gilded closer, appearing almost as a manakin adrift on a hidden airflow. It raised its scythe, the tip of the blade hovering over Mikel’s stomach - aimed at the same place the assailant had targeted.

“Your death was sealed when you won The Jewel. Your death was mine before you were born.”

The scythe tip slid up towards Mikel’s throat and rested on The Callisto Jewel, hanging in the air and vibrating with a pulsing, ragged red light.

“Your death is mine.”

Then with deafening force, The Callisto Jewel exploded in light and sound and fury, drawing the scene out, both blinding and deafening Mikel in the process as all things bled into nothing.

And yet, the voice of The Time Demon remained.

“Now, run from this small creature so you may run to me… Remember, your death is mine and mine alone.”

“Now, Run.”