Part 1
- RAPHAEL BLUESCALE’S POV -
Blood was sticking to my boots and trousers in an uncomfortable way. It wasn’t fresh or wet but neither was it dry. An uncomfortable in-between. To make matters worse, Julie was in my same situation and her constant complaining about it was starting to get on my nerves. However, I could not blame her. Since setting foot into the War lands, I had been working her to the bone to teach her the first thing about survival. She requested that I do so and for a good reason. Even she felt like overly relying on me, especially after discovering how knees-deep in my illness I was, was wrong and, most of all, unhelpful in regards to my health. Thus, her bow and knife began to see a lot more action than they were used to.
The abundance of small groups of orcs turned out to be a blessing for her growth. Alas, a curse for our clothes which caused her to gag and vomit more than once, especially when a severed arm flew by her or a particularly gruesome wound opened up on an orc’s chest. I was in no way willing to change my sword style for the sake of less bloodshed since it was the only one I knew and thus the girl was forced to suck it up…most of the time, at least. Her moaning and complaining were incessant that day. By the time three meager days passed since leaving Migur I already regretted agreeing to teach her.
“Alright, that’s enough!-” I grunted as I turned around after Julie let out one more slow and deep sigh that oh-so-clearly was meant to either bother me or get my attention “- Want to get rid of the blood? Then do your job as a scout and find us somewhere with a stream”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” She retorted as she stomped her feet to a stop and crossed her arms while fixing her gaze on mine.
“*Sigh* Am I to guide you like a kid through everything?” I complained as I rolled my eyes.
“I’m not a kid!” She shouted as she balled her fists.
“Then don’t act like one. Think. Use your imagination!-” I said yet, seeing her struggle with understanding the meaning behind my words and just cursing my name aloud, I relented and gave her a hint “-...Magic is more than just fireballs and healing, you know”
“OHHH!-” The girl shouted as she jumped up with a smile so proud it was almost ironic “- The spirits can help me!”
I was suddenly proud of myself for refraining from chipping in with something akin to “No shit Sherlock”. It took her a good half an hour of meditation to attune to the spirits, ten more minutes to find one and ten more to convince it to lead us to the steam. By the time we reached the place, two hours had passed in total. The musky smell of orc’s blood was so thick under my nostrils that it had almost become a background scent, her eyes were tired and hazy from the effort but the wide smile on her face did not betray her success. Tired both physically and mentally, Julie sat under the shade of a tree with her back against the rough bark. I sighed internally, thinking that perhaps I had been too lenient with her.
The place the spirit led us to was a rather small clearing encased by the thickness of the forest on one side and the steep, rocky edge of a cliff on the other. Between those two a stream, not wider than two meters and one deep, ran freely forming a sort of “U” shape around a smaller cluster of trees sitting at the very center of the clearing. Julie had enough sense in her to not just lazy around like an old man but to instead do something useful after a- mildly- well-deserved rest. By the time I cleaned mine and Julie’s clothes, dressed in our spare ones - which consisted of nothing but a roughed-up pair of trousers in my case- and hung the rest between two trees, Julie had started a fire and was heating up a kettle, some jerky and some bread.
“Can I ask you something?” The girl asked between munches of her cheese and jerky sandwich.
“If you must” I replied with a sigh as I froze mid-bite.
“Before leaving home you had me wait at the foot of a hill for more than an hour. What were you doing there?” She asked, her eyes fixed on mine as impish curiosity shone brightly like the flames of our campfire.
“...Nothing-” I replied after taking a few deliberate seconds to think of a plausible answer that would satisfy the seemingly endless girl’s curiosity “- Your brother and I used to play there when we were kids. Oh and by play I mean beat each other up using all sorts of vile methods under the guise of sword training. Throwing dirt at each other, using magic, using nets and hooks. All sorts of things…It was our way to declare a winner to out frequent disputes”
A heavy sigh escaped my lips before I could rein it in. It was loud enough and carried enough sentiment behind it to drain the smile from Julie’s lips. I did not lie, not entirely. Lucas and I truly trained on that hill and in such a way that one or both of us would always go home full of bruises. Recalling those memories was painful but not as much as doing what I truly did upon the hill on the day of our departure. I did not climb the hill alone just to bask in joyful memories, that is the extent of my lie, but I had no heart to tell my sister the true reason.
“Did you argue frequently?” The girl meekly asked. She was now intently staring at the fire, almost too intently, in a painfully clear attempt to avoid my eyes.
“Quite the contrary” I answered bluntly, momentarily snapping out of my train of thoughts and hoping she would not ask further.
“Then why did you fight?” She pressed further, this time glancing at me from the corner of her eyes.
“Just for the sake of it-” I replied, resigning to the fact that Julie would not let go until her curiosity had been sated “- Lucas loved swords and all that surrounded them. I was…compelled to train the sword. Our personalities differed in an uncountable number of ways, so many that I sometimes doubted we shared the same blood, and our opinions were the same. It was impossible not to quarrel but we learned, the hard way, not to do so in front of mother. The hill was our way to cleanly settle them while also training and proving one was stronger than the other. In no way it meant us hating or disliking the other”
“I see” Julie replied with the faintest little smile curling her lips as her curiosity had, for the time, been satisfied.
With my head and ears now cleared of all distracting sounds except for the crackling of the fire and the soft swooshing of the stream, I began recalling the events surrounding that hill. It was the morning of our departure from Migur. A soft, hazy mist danced through the countryside as we left the city gates, or what was left of them, a couple of hours after dawn. Sleeping under the roof I grew up with brought up memories that I would have rather remained buried till the end of my journey. Along with the memories, the feeling of guilt and my impending doom crept into my already haunted dreams. The idea came as, after walking about twenty minutes north of Migur, the path Lucas and I would take to the hill meekly showed itself.
I had left Julie resting behind while I climbed the lonely hill. Atop it, just as my brother and I left it, three flat-topped rocks formed a sort of asymmetrical table sporting different heights. At the very center of the hill, the green grass gave way to the brownish earth forming a sort of elongated oval shape. That was where the two of us fought. With a smirk, I sat on one of the rocks.
“It used to be bigger” I mused glancing at the oval.
Our continuous fights, some involving fire magic, had turned the top of the green hill into a mostly brown and barren little arena. Now that none was using it, nature had begun reclaiming what it was once its property. The rock under me suddenly began feeling uncomfortable. The restlessness was grasping at my temples so I began to pace around the place. With amusement, I watched as the shadows of our fights seemed to shift from simple memories to physical realities that took place right in front of me. I remembered beating him and getting beaten. I remembered us counting our wins by marking with a thin line one of the stones respectively. Brushing over the lines I smiled with melancholy as I recalled how greatly his wins surpassed mine.
I brought my hands to my face, sinking my eyes into their palms and basking in the clear darkness such action brought. I was not here to walk down memory lane nor to gain a few moments away from Julie. I was here to pay tribute and attempt to bring closure. I clutched the golden dragon hanging from my ear as I moved mana to my hands. Gracefully, with a few quick motions, two rectangular holes began forming on the ground as the earth that was previously filling them shifted to the side like a wave. Feeling satisfied with the meter-deep holes, I moved the mana to my arms and legs. For my empowered self, picking up the flat rocks and placing them in front of the holes was just some daily cardio.
“I wish I could fill them with something. It’s…sad leaving a grave empty” I said as a hand flew at the pouch with my mother’s ashes hanging from my waist. I knew it was not my place to bury her.
Reluctantly, I filled the empty holes back, this time using only my hands. With a knife, I carved my mother’s name and my brother’s name on the stones that were to be their headstone. I stepped back but felt nothing. There was no closure, no sense of relief. I was just about to shout my frustration when a numb spark ran through my bad arm. Clutching it with my good hand I sighed as my eyes darted between the two graves and my limb.
“Right…-” I said as I began sending mana to my hands once more “- One’s still missing”
I repeated the process once more. Digging the grave through magic, picking the last flat rock by boost, writing a name on it and stepping back. This time, though, I did not fill the hole. The grave’s owner was still alive and the mound of dirt would remain by the side of the grave until it was time. With a sigh that was the physical representation of a weight being lifted off my shoulders, I walked down the hill leaving behind me three empty graves. One of which carried my name etched into stone.
A sudden sound, a rustle too loud to be nothing smaller than a boar, stirred me away from the memory. I threw away the half-burned stick I was using to play with the embers before pawing at my sword and dropping the sheath unceremoniously at my feet. Julie’s half-lidded eyes focused on me briefly enough to notice the sword in my hand thus shocking her awake. With a finger in front of my lips, I shushed her up and then motioned to the bow resting by her side. She nodded in understanding and, after reaching for bow and quiver, the girl kneeled on one knee behind the closest tree. One arrow already straining the string.
No sound came after the first rustle. The forest, along with the clearing, was suddenly submerged in a motionless, eerie silence. The wind that was tamely blowing just minutes before now turned silent. My sixth sense, or rather a sense for danger I developed through all my big and small battles, sent a bothering shiver down my spine and through the fingertips clutched around my sword. It was too unnaturally silent. I closed one eye and entered the half-meditative state I had grown accustomed to. Ever since coming to the War Lands, I had been using that meditative state for more purposes than just studying my circuits. With my ability to grasp the “level” of a target through the weight of their mana stolen by the skeleton’s curse, I was forced to rely on cruder methods. The half-meditative state was something like a solution to that end. It was a gamble, truly. With half of my brain immersed in trance, I was left with only half to control my body thus slowing down every one of my movements. In exchange, I would be granted back some of my old capabilities. Namely a better eye for mana signatures.
With my one open eye, I searched around the forest as I sent small waves of my mana past the first line of trees. Nothing was in sight. No bird, no wolf or boar, not even any rabbit or the such. The thought that perhaps I was starting to become paranoid crossed my mind until suddenly, one wave of mana crashed against something of similar nature. I gritted my teeth as I felt that something, that wall of mana, perhaps a barrier, push against my wave.
[They know I’m here] I thought as I lowered my stance, sent mana to my limbs, and grabbed the sword with both hands.
My body reacted before I could spur it to act. I jumped to the side as a thin needle of pure fire the size of a dagger passed short of ten centimeters away from my ear. A second and a third followed as the spells forced me away from Julie. The glint of steel caught my attention as the fourth spell flew my way forcing me to duck. The rapier flying at my throat was much too fast for me to attempt to dodge while maintaining my half-meditative state. Snapping out of it abruptly caused my sight to wobble and glitch. My body bent uncomfortably as I tried to dodge the rapier’s thrust. Unfortunately, my reflexes weren’t sharp enough. As fast as the pointed blade flew it also retreated after poking a hole through my forearm. Luckily it was my numbed arm meaning that if I had not seen the blood gushing out of the open wound, I would have never known that I had been injured.
Before snapping out of trance I felt the presence of at least four individuals. One of which, apparently the mage spewing fire spells, had a greater amount of mana than the others. I jumped back as I glanced at Julie with the corner of my eyes. She had eyes full of fear but gritted her teeth through it. In front of her, swinging a heavy-looking warhammer, was a man in his later thirties, dark hair tied in a ponytail and a stern look on his face. His lean build betrayed his strength but the sheer weight of this weapon seemed to slow down his movements. Julie’s agile build and light weapon made for a good matchup. I saw her dodge and shoot an arrow at the same time, careful to maintain a good distance between her and the broad-shouldered man.
[Where’s the fourth?] I thought as a long-bladed dagger tried to reach for my neck.
The owner of the dagger was a stocky man with a scarred face. From his broad pauldron-clad shoulders, a long brownish cloak fell, covering his entire body. The cloak had a large hood too but the top half had been cut by something crude. Seeing how roughly it was cut, I judged it to be the work of a beast rather than a blade.
With a flick of my elbow, I dragged my blade upward and swatted the long dagger away. Continuing the movement, I traced an arc with the sword from my shoulder to his. My enhanced strength and speed were enough to grant the blade a terrifying edge. Being the sensible warrior he was, the man brought up in a cross shape both his dagger and the rapier judging that only one of the two would not be able to tank the blow. Shifting my weight and beginning a twist, I dragged my shoulder down and my weapon along with it. Such a movement forced the man to shift his weight to the opposite side and push away my blade with his. This gave me enough time to counter. The strength behind the kick I delivered to the man’s chest was far more than he expected. I could just see the surprise in his eyes as his body was flung back and he crashed into a tree.
Free from the dagger-wielding man, I now had enough time to focus on Julie. I quickly glanced around in search of the mage but seeing no trace of any spell being flung my way I turned my head toward my sister. Julie and the tall man’s fight had moved from the cluster of trees to - or rather into- the stream. The man had a few arrows lodged in his body, mostly on his shoulders, sides and thighs but it didn’t seem to affect him much. Perhaps he was a little slower than before. Julie on the other hand was moving erratically as if the stream’s water, being an obstacle to the man, worked in Julie’s favor by dragging her around like a marionette.
[What did he say about her magic?-] I thought thinking back on our time in Bolton [- Something about spirits blessing her if I’m right…that ought to be it]
As I looked at Julie dodging with extreme dexterity a blow that sent water all over the place and momentarily caused the stream to run dry around the hammer’s head, mana began to swirl under my feet. It fluttered and moved in circles as if to encase me in its dance. I jumped to the side just in time to avoid a massive column of fire that burned the top of some trees swinging nearby. As I darted my eyes from one side of the forest to the other in search of the mage, a shadow caught my attention. It ran by, past the clearing and the cluster of trees. I saw it aim for the river, right where my sister was. I fixed my eyes on it as I pushed the mage away from my attention. What I first thought was a shadow was in truth a woman a few years older than me. She wore her cherry blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swang freely past her shoulders. Her armor was light, mostly made out of leather and some thin-looking metal. Something felt off about her, not because of the wide-bladed claymore she had resting on her pauldron-wearing shoulder but rather the vibe that surrounded her entire being. Those thoughts slipped out of me as I saw her aim for my sister and preparing a sucker punch.
My legs moved before I could fully formulate the thought. As mana listened to my unspoken common, my speed was boosted almost to the max, causing my muscles and bones to shriek in pain. She sensed me too late. The bright red obs she had for eyes showed clearly her panic and surprise. Her instincts were good, her body moved almost as soon as she took notice of my fist approaching her exposed side. Alas, her reflexes could not match my boosted speed.
My fist struck home…loudly. Her body bent uncomfortably as her breath got cut abruptly, all air in her lungs leaving as my fist made contact with her flesh. She shouted a silent scream as I dragged my fist forward using shoulders and legs. The warhammer-wielding man was too slow to react to it all. By the time he saw us, it was too late. The woman was already crashing into him. The man grabbed the woman by her shoulders in an attempt to smooth the fall yet they still went rolling into the rocky side of the cliff. I yanked my sister by the neck just in time for a rain of fiery arrows to drop on us. Some sank into the stone side of the cliff, others near the river while most fell into the water, causing it to start fizzling. Summoning a gust of wind and bending it into something akin to a shield, I covered both of us by wielding it overhead. The rain only lasted for a few seconds yet the mana drained from me was excessive to the point where my body felt colder and heavier than before.
Yanking Julie once again I moved her out of the way as the woman’s sword sank into the riverbed. I managed to throw her away the very moment the woman jumped out of the smoke caused by the fire spell and the stream’s water meeting. Alas, I did not manage to dodge the kick on my chest that followed. A second was all it took her to regain grasp of the sword and for me to retain my composure. The next instant our swords clashed. The water below us seemed to flee in fear, leaving the meter-deep stream no more than thirty centimeters. The woman smiled with a wolfish grin as the red orbs of her eyes seemed to glow with innate light.
The clash that followed was brutal. Our exchanges cruel and almost feverish. The sound of metal clashing was only second to our war cries. Streaks of blood soon followed along the stream as the crimson liquid began to fall from our open wounds. Yet, neither her smile nor mine faltered, rather they grew bigger with each clash. Each time our blades met, each time her flesh tasted the bite of my sword, my smile widened and my body grew hotter. My heart was banging against my chest, begging to be allowed to join the fight. Soon, everything lost meaning. Our surroundings, the blood drenching my clothes, the woman’s companions…all that mattered was that fight, that exchange of blows. Everything else was just bothersome dust. Specks of nothing clouding my mind. I was a blacksmith and each time our swords met, I brought down my hammer on the anvil known as mind, refining it, sharpening it, turning it into a weapon of efficiency.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
A yowl of victory escaped my lips as the opportunity to finish our fight presented to me the moment the woman made a mistake in parrying my sword due to exhaustion. In terms of strength, she was far above an unboosted me but my stamina dwarfed hers. In parrying my latest blow, the woman had lost her posture and her sword arm was now outstretched beyond the possibility of retaliation. I did not hesitate. The tip of my sword aimed for her neck like a famished snake. The panic in her eyes became clear and, in an attempt to avoid the killing blow, the woman dropped her sword. Weighting much less now, she was able to avoid being hit on the neck but my blade still managed to bite her shoulder, sinking in until the tip emerged from the other side. She fell backward and I fell on top of her, her suddenly long, black nails sinking into my side. A minor wound, certainly not a setback. My victory was in sight. I shifted the grip on my sword and pushed with my shoulder yet, just as I was about to twist the sword and have it fall on her neck like a guillotine, my body stopped on its own.
Placed against my neck was a long dagger. Its blade painted a thin red line that gently dripped blood over my naked torso. Pressed against my forehead was the tip of a strange blade. It was short and thick. A quick glance was enough to understand its nature. It was the bladed tip of the mage’s staff. I was surrounded. My eyes shot behind me where the man carrying the warhammer was pressing a small knife against my sister’s throat. Her eyes met mine, pleadingly. I knew then of my loss.
“Drop your weapon-” Said the man holding the dagger in a stern tone perfectly reflecting his face “- I would rather not spill young blood. Do so and I will permit you to leave, both you and the girl you protect”
“Funny thing to say for someone who attacked us first-” I replied with a grim snicker “- Why should I trust you? What stops you from slitting my throat the moment I cease to be a threat to this woman?”
“I give you my word. You shall not be harmed so long as you comply” Answered the man behind me with a certain solemnity to his words.
“Oh, really?-” I answered, this time laughing loudly. The high of the battle still running through my veins and clouding my judgment with adrenaline “- Your word means nothing to me, especially if given behind a mask”
“What?!” Asked the mage with rage hissing in his words.
“What? Didn’t think I would notice?” I snapped back at the quickly enraging mage.
“It’s impossible!-” He shouted as he pressed the tip of the blade further in, tracing a thin red line that fell down my forehead and forked once it reached the intersection of my brows “- Someone like you shouldn’t be able to see through my spells! You…You are just an inferior! Just a damned bug-”
“That’s enough!-” The dagger-wielding man shouted. For the first time, his voice didn’t seem collected and calculated but rather showed hints of emotions. There was anger, yes, but almost concern which bothered me somehow “- You fool…He did not know it was a spell, perhaps he had a doubt. ‘Had’, I say, since you so kindly confirmed his suspicions…*Sigh* What gave it away, if I may ask?”
“This woman’s ‘mask’ was too well done” I replied plainly, deciding that cooperating for the time being was the best choice.
“Too well done? How so?” Insisted the man.
“It’s as if it lacks imperfections. Like it was studied to be beautiful and perfect from all angles…Plus I think it flickered while we were fighting. Though I wasn’t sure about that before your friend kindly answered my questions” I replied as I sent a coky glare toward the mage who gritted his teeth in a rageful grimace.
“...It seems our zeal backfired-” Said the mad thoughtfully, physically suppressing a sigh that threatened to escape his lips “- Say, we have met before, haven’t we?”
“Perhaps-” I replied, finally connecting the dots between my doubts and my questions “- Have you been wearing the masks of elves recently?”
“The boy, the girl, and the dwarf in Hespera…I see-” The dagger-man said as he, probably, unconsciously tapped his foot on the ground restlessly “- I understand now why your mana felt familiar just as much as your reckless way of wielding your sword…Is this perchance…a sign?”
“If you are thinking we followed you all the way here, you are mistaken”
“Are we?” Grunted the mage. Distrust was plain in his words.
“Three days south of here stands Migur West-” I explained “- That city is, or was, our homeland. We are searching for someone who apparently wasn’t there…May I remind you that it was you who attacked us first?”
“Then why did I sense you searching us with your mana?” Asked the mage in a sort of interrogation-style.
“What kind of fool would, after setting camp in the middle of the forest where orcs have been sighted, ignore a rustling sound without trying to understand its origin?” I replied plainly as if stating the most basics of things, which apparently seemed to tick off the mage even more.
“He does have a point-” Answered the man behind me with his voice now regressed into that stern tone he seemed comfortable with “- Alas, we will not apologize for attacking first nor will I explain our reasons but it is regrettable that it has come to this. You are injured and surrounded, your protegee has a blade pressed against her neck. Let us not spill any more blood. I’m willing to forgive you for our lady’s condition so long as you agree to forget about us and this pointless fight. What say you, human?”
“I am amenable to that-” I answered as I felt the blade pressing on my neck easing just slightly “- but your word is not enough. Nothing stops you our your companions from striking us down the moment I drop my sword as your faces are unknown to us”
“A fair point-” Said the man nodding “- State your terms”
“Let the girl go to the furthest side of the clearing and order your men to go the opposite way. Once that is done, I will let go of my sword and you will let go of your blade. You will take this woman while I back away toward my protegee. Then, we will leave and you’ll do the same…Oh, may I remind you that I am a mage? Your own mage seems to hate my guts and he was the first to attack. I do not mind sacrificing my life for that girl’s so if I feel even the slightest hint of mana from his, I’ll bathe this entire place in thunder”
“Is that all?” Asked the man simply.
“I am as eager to put this behind us as you are” I answered in the same manner.
“Very well” The man replied, signaling with his free hand for the warhammer-wielding man to let go of my sister. Reluctantly he followed and sheted the blade previously pressed against my sister’s neck. I nodded toward the furthest point from us the moment my sister looked at me pleadingly for instructions.
The mage, very reluctantly, followed the other man’s example and moved out of the way towards the side opposite my sister. Of course, he did so while grunting and complaining in a language I was unfamiliar with. A long pause followed. One that served to control whether the strangers’ side upheld the deal. The woman below me had her eyes fixed on mine. There was anger in them, certainly from being pinned down and skewered like a piece of meat, but also shame, undoubtedly stemming from her loss. However, that wasn’t all. Something else was in there and that look almost felt like respect, perhaps admiration. I shrugged those thoughts away. They were pointless anyway.
“I will count to three-” Said the man after several seconds of silence “- On three, we will stand up, you will take your sword and we will walk away from our lady. After five steps we will both sheathe our weapons”
“Fine with me” I answered as I slowly, and visibly, shifted my grip on the sword.
“Then I will start-” He replied ceremoniously “- One…Two…Three!”
With slow motions, the two of us, still locked in that tight stalemate vice, began to stand up. My free arm was spread at my side to make me seem as unthreatened as possible. The man’s free arm was the same. With even slower motions, I extracted my blade from the woman’s shoulder, eliciting a soft moan of pain. Then, we walked the five steps. My blade was hanging limply by my side with its tip pointed at the ground while the man’s dagger still lingered over my neck. As we walked the five steps, our motions became even slower and I could feel, for the first time, the man’s heart beating faster. He took his dagger away from my neck while still keeping it close enough to strike. I moved my sword in front of me with its tip still facing the ground. Then, as I was about to move it toward my side to slide it into the one belt I was currently wearing, my vision blurred.
My body suddenly became heavy. An uncomfortable buzzing spread from my spine all the way to my brain. The sky turned brown as I fell face-first. All sounds that managed to reach me were suffocated and distorted. I managed to hear a scream, some panicked shouts and some barking orders before powerful hands rolled me around until the sky became blue once more.
The images in front of my eyes twisted and turned, mixing one another into a turbine of grey and watered-down colors. I could faintly grasp, amidst the chaos raging inside my brain and across my body, the words “pain”, “help”, “please” and “drugs”. It took all I had left in me to put the pieces together and answer my sister’s pleas.
“Black pouch…-” I said with a fatigued voice that reached my ears feeling as if it was not mine “- right…dust”
Before I could think or say any further, all sensations in my body ceased to be felt. Hot and cold became one grey, uncomfortable feeling. Sight and hearing shut off abruptly, sending me hurling down into a pitch-black world filled with nothing. Then, my conscious mind plunged into the depths and all things seemed to have ceased to exist.
Part 2
The familiar endless sea of blood surrounded me once again. It was the same nightmare almost every night. I almost dreaded falling asleep, for every time I stepped into that bloody world, a tiny piece of my sanity slipped away and sunk into its crimson waters. In time, I stopped fighting the hands and faces trying to drag me down and, instead, let them claw at my flesh freely. Now, I floated in it as I would lazily do in a pool on a summer day.
Half my body was completely submerged in the lake, only my face and part of my torso hovered above the red mass. Faces I recognized clearly and those that were but a sliver of a memory shouted at me as they passed by. Profanity, curses, cries of pain and anger, it was all mixed together in a concert that spelled doom. The hands that usually tried to drag me into the lake now found little purchase on my flesh thus their only accomplishment was pushing me or pulling me toward a certain direction. It was as if countless thousand hands joined together to form a living escalator. That sickening thought was only a remote notion in my brain. I could not afford to give it credit, not in that nightmarish world.
The more time I spent inside my own nightmare, the more I realized how freakishly detailed it was. The sky, unlike how it was or how I saw it previously, now had a certain texture that gave it a feeling of reality while maintaining that nightmarish recurrent style. The dark red of the sky, the color of good wine, seemed to flow almost like a river into the endless lake, mixing into a lighter shade at the edges of my sight. It was as if the world moved as I moved. The shadows belonging to mountains-like structures and towers moved. The colossal eye-shaped, bright red stars moved. Either my growing insanity served as this world’s fuel or I was simply noticing things I couldn’t in my previously panicked state.
I sighed, sending another thought hurling down the drain, promising I would give it careful consideration later but knowing well I would not. Time went by surprisingly faster as I made a mental effort to revise the fight that just happened. I played it back in my head tens of times until all the little details, all my movements, were marked by fire inside my head.
[Not sensing my arm is more of a curse than a boon when it comes to difficult opponents…-] I thought as I reviewed the fight one last time before boredom finally caught up with me [- Should I up the dosage? Would that work?]
“You look quite comfortable. Should I take it as a sign of your surrender?” Said a charming voice coming from somewhere above me.
“What do you expect me to do? It’s been half a year already, am I supposed to kick and shout and scream every single time I come across this nightmare?-” I replied sighing with a wide shrug of my shoulders “- Between orcs and people masked as humans I had enough fights for the day. Let me rest”
“And you would call hovering in an endless pool of blood with the hands of your victims scratching at your skin, rest? Are you ok?” The man asked, his voice taking a tone of sarcasm that gave me, once again, insight into the man’s childish side.
“Don’t ask questions you already know, damned old man-” I answered as I rolled my eyes and searched for the source of the voice “- Of course I'm not ok!”
“Snarky today, are we?-” He answered with a controlled chuckle, almost elegant “- A change of location might boost your mood a little, yes?”
The snap of his fingers loudly echoed across that bloody world. It softened the further it traveled until it became nothing but a whisper. Then, followed but a low rumble, the snap came back being the spearhead of my nightmare’s fall. Like water down the drain, the world began to swirl and move as if forcefully dragged downward. Forced to follow that unnatural movement, I was dragged down into the bloody waters and sunk below. As I opened my eyes, the endless expanse of red was nowhere in sight.
I was standing on my hands and knees in an almost empty room. Then blandness of it was almost appalling. Except for a small coffee table and two blue velvet armchairs, the defining factors of the room were a large glass window and a soft-looking Persian carpet. The wooden floor, walls and ceiling reminded me of a rustic house perched atop a small hill in the middle of an autumn forest. The hearth lit in the corner of the room made it feel cozy yet somehow unfamiliar and estranged in a mildly concerning way. It was as if a thought called for my attention from the back of my head, yet I simply couldn’t reach it. I sighed again, resigning to the old man’s antics as I stood up and cleaned myself of some nonexistent dust.
Sitting comfortably with one knee graciously crossing the other on the furthest chair, the old man looked at me. His eyes were scanning me, reading me…I knew. He was in my mind, in all senses of the word. With grace, he gestured to the chair in front of him. I sat, seeing no point in arguing.
“To what do I owe this…oh-so-pleasurable visit?” I replied with a wide smile, making the sarcasm in my tone perfectly clear.
“I see you find me as detestable as last time” He retorted with a cocky smirk.
“I tend to feel that way toward those who blackmail me, yes” I answered as I shifted into a more comfortable and relaxed position in the chair at the cost of coming off as rude.
[He looks the exact same as last time] I thought as I finally took a moment to truly take in the sight of the man in front of me.
He looked like an old man but didn’t feel like one. The way he spoke, how he acted, and the vigor behind his movements, all were too greatly evident for me to simply believe in the facade of the old man. Either that was his mask or he kept himself living through means of mana.
He wore that reminded me of a wealthy and eccentric Victorian noble…and he acted the part too. Fitting black trousers with dark grey vertical lines gave them the optical illusion of fitting onto his slim legs even more perfectly. Fashionable and elegant black, shiny shoes with a low heel all lined with fine golden thread and pyramid-shaped golden studs. A blue vest in rich velvet with a black tapestry design covered a large-sleeved with tight cuffs light grey shirt. Tied around his neck and half-tucked into the vest was a dark blue ascot with a gold and black intricate wave-like design. Then, hugging his entire body comfortably, was a long pitch-black coat with a tapestry design in a lighter shade of black.
His face felt as studied as his outward appearance. He had a thin forehead with a couple of prominent wrinkles that traveled down his nose and stopped at the corner of his lips. His short ‘salt and pepper’ hair were perfectly styled to wave backward just enough for a few tufts of loose hair to fall over the right side of his forehead. Beard, mustache and brows were all thick yet trimmed enough to grant him an almost solemn vibe. His deep black eyes, sunken cheeks and prominent cheekbones truly sunk the nail in the coffin. Even the way he smirked appeared elegant.
“Blackmail is such a strong word-” He replied with a soft chuckle as he crossed his hands on top of his upper knee “- I’d rather think of it as…an equally profitable exchange, yes?”
“Mighty convenient for you to say that-” I scoffed as I threw my head backward beyond the chair “- Soooo…what brought you here?” I continued, my eyes now fixed on his and my tone plain and decisive, threatening almost.
“I have information for you” The man replied.
“Don’t even bother, Man of Doors, I’m not striking a deal with you and don’t you dare go back on your word!” I said, this time very threateningly.
“...I don’t plan to-” He replied plainly as if unfazed by my threat “- Unlike how you think of me, I tend to uphold my deals. No, I’m not here to ask something of you”
“So it would be for free?-” I asked surprised but still hounding on to my threatening tone “- Don’t play with me, old man…nothing’s free and you are the god damned testament of that”
His calm expression changed for the first time since we began to speak. He did not like how I was treating him with mistrust. For a brief moment, hidden under his mustache, I saw the flash of anger. It reminded me of the first time we met, back when I fell into come in the dwarven capital. At that time, he threatened to reveal my involvement in the disappearance of the Gallhers to the upper echelon of Belza if I did not listen to his one request. That request being listening with an open mind to the voice belonging to the golden eye. Pointless was for him to enshrine the voice as an ally of mine. After a stranger came to me in my dreams and blackmailed me into following an ominous voice growling in my head, I would have been a fool if I hadn’t come to trust the voice even less.
“Think of it as a gift…A proof of my goodwill, shall we say, to mend our poisoned relationship” He said after a few seconds, most likely the time he needed to subdue his anger.
“I have as much reason to trust you as I have to oppose you, Man of Doors. Our relationship starts and stops with our previous deal…I thought it was clear enough” I countered with my elbows resting on my knees and my fingers conjoined in front of my mouth.
“You are still close-minded I see-” Retorted the man with regret “- A shame, really, but that's what makes you so special”
“Oh really?-” I asked sarcastically “- Hadn’t you approached me for the curious sights of a blood-filled world? Was I mistaken?”
“Don’t get funny with me, Raphael” He said with a stern voice, anger now seeping between his words.
“Then don’t get smart with me, Man of Doors” I replied, matching his tone.
“Very well-” The old man said after several seemingly unending seconds in which I knew he contemplated all the ways he could behead me. I could see it in his eyes “- The reason why I wish to have a somewhat amicable relationship with you, Raphael, is because you are a unique existence-” He explained with pride as he shifted his seat into a more comfortable pose “- You see, Fate is the common denominator of all things. Not one being escapes its touch. Whether it be a hero, a farmer, a king, a bar wench, or a god. In different measures, sure, but Fate is present in all beings. Those alive and those that aren’t…Or at least that is how it should be. You, Raphael, are the one exception”
“Fateless” I said thoughtfully.
“Correct-” He chirped as a slight smile curled the corner of his lips “- I see you are starting to connect the dots. While I’m sure the knowledge evokes awful memories involving that litch, I would suggest digging deeper into them…It is surprising how much that Thing said while torturing you”
“...What is fate?” I asked, my mind too filled with questions that piled up even more questions to suppress the curiosity and eagerness in my tone.
“Help the red-eyed woman in her quest and you may have a chance to know, depending on how you play yourself” He answered with a cocky tone and a victorious smirk. He came to say those very words and was able to deliver them. Undoubtedly it was his win.
“What does she have to do with any-” I began to ask before the room around me swirled and a tidal wave of blood loomed over the ceiling-less room.
“Time’s up-” The old man said as he made a hat appear in his hand with a twirl of his wrist “- Let us try and be more amicable on our next encounter, yes?”
A door made of a soft purple stone with golden sigils carved onto it appeared out of nowhere. What stood under the arch of the door was nothing. Quite literally “nothing”. Simple emptiness. Twisting a nonexistent knob, the man disappeared into the door just in time for the tidal wave of blood to crash into the undoing room. The world spun around as I was shook, dragged, pressed and twisted in all directions simultaneously. Then, out of the blue, a pang of pain stemmed from my heart and expanded to my chest and head. My vision blurred between the bloody mass and a familiar-looking tent. Voices, sounds and scents reached me in an instant as if they were a charging platoon. It served only to worsen my headache.
Feeling the final tug on my consciousness, I closed my eyes and relaxed what I perceived as my body in the nightmare realm. With my breath held, I wanted for the moment my consciousness would stir awake. The moment I would snap out of that nightmare.