Waybreaker"
Veiled Sky
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Dear, Rosè.
I am sorry, but you will have to carry on, waiting just a bit longer.
I’m sorry that it cannot be me who saves you.
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“W-wait?” A guard stuttered. “You’re that guy from earlier who was with that Albarado lady!”
Dust had returned to the gate where he and Rosè had been earlier and encountered the same soldier who was standing there before. The soldier’s fingers were twitching around the handle of his weapon. He looked on as the wanderer paced towards him at an usual speed. The white-haired boy was making for the gate with haste, walking with a purpose.
A bead of sweat formed on the guard’s forehead.
“Uh-” He stuttered. “Do you even have an heirloom to pass!?”
“If you won’t let me through, I will get violent.” The foreign boy drew his staff from his back.
“Hm,” The man in armor twirled his lance. “I- it has been a while since I have seen violence.”
“I’m giving you one last warning to step aside.”
“Try me...” The guard challenged, only sounding somewhat sure of himself.
“Suit yourself.”
Dust looked on at the man clad in armor. Compared to the soldier he was practically galivanting about buck-naked. Though, he eyed him with conviction nonetheless, pulling his weapon behind himself.
In one hand, the boy held his staff behind his back, but with his other, he gripped the pendant around his neck tightly. The longer he sat there, holding his pose, the more a great wind began to amass.
Right at the end of his stick, a ball of air had formed, and it was surging rapidly.
The guard gulped.
Even though the boy was still many meters away from the soldier, he swung his staff downwards to the pavement. A light gust of wind dusted down onto the armored man. After which, he was only given a moment to try and figure out what had just happened before he exploded into blood and guts all over the gateway.
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You see, I am not the person I seem.
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“Ah, you were with that noble lady earlier, weren’t you!?” A child shouted from his bed. “Did you come to bring medicine?”
Dust had now crawled his way back into the marsh beneath the noble lands. His lower half was now covered in mud and he stood at the doorway to a rickety shack-like structure.
It was more like an outhouse, but one where people sleep. No, there wasn’t a hole with feces in the ground. But there might as well have been, because there was an overwhelming stench.
Flies circled the shack.
“Yes, I brought you everything I could find,” Dust kneeled and carefully placed a sack-full of supplies down on the mud. “I’m not sure if there’s a cure among these, but surely there are remedies to help her chances of survival.”
Dust looked to the right of the child. His mother lay beneath him, panting and gasping for air. The way she looked as though she was struggling, the traveler felt she desperately wanted to say something but just couldn’t gather enough strength.
The kid patted her head to calm her down. It seemed as though he had been resting right up against his sick mother all this time, not that there were many other places for him to sleep. Dust doubted there was any chance that he hadn’t contracted her sickness by now.
“Thank you so much mister, really! Thank you!” The child bowed his head.
“Do not bow to me,” The wandered replied. “This small chore isn’t worthy of praise.”
The child looked up from the ground, eyeing the traveler who stood beneath the moonlight. The kid couldn’t help but smile at him. “I think it is,” He beamed. “You’ve given my mother a chance to live… I think that is worthy of praise!”
Though, those words fell on deaf ears, for Dust had ignored them immediately. He turned away from the shack and faced back towards the moon. The night was growing old and he still had much to do.
“Thank you,” the child said again. “Make sure you tell the nice lady who was with you that I said thank you as well!”
Dust gave a lazy wave.
“I’ll let her know.
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I have a heart of darkness.
I am to be loathed.
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“Please! Let me go!” A familiar-looking man fell down into the corner between the ground and the wall. He tried to frantically retreat, and scoot away, but all he did was push himself back up into standing. “P- please! I can’t tell you anything!”
It seemed that Dust had now found himself back in the market. Specifically, he was in the alley he and Rosè had crossed through just before they left back into the sewers. Beneath the traveler lie one of the thugs from the train, the one that had gotten frisky in front of the passengers.
His partner in crime lay off to his side, completely unconscious and bleeding all over. Though, his focus was not on that, but rather the white-haired man standing before him.
“Edward Ramsey,” The boy said. “All I’m asking for is information, this never had to get violent.”
“I’ve already told you time and time again man,” the guy whined. “I can’t tell you, Ramsey is a Ringleader... The Crows are monsters! They have eyes and ears everywhere! Betray them and you’ll lose a lot more than your life.”
“You're more afraid of people who aren’t here taking your life, than you are of the guy who is standing directly in front of you?”
The man sitting against the pavement looked up to the boy.
“Is something wrong with that?” He asked. “I told you, they’re monsters.”
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Though I feel something is the matter with me.
I have just met you,
And you have given me nothing besides a meal.
But strangely, I want to help you.
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“H- Hey! You’re not supposed to be here!”
Dust leapt from over a hedge, landing directly in front of an armored guard. He ducked down, then swung a shadowed object at his collar.
His weapon came through to the other side of the soldier's neck, and his head was cut clean off. A small splatter of blood landed against Dust’s cheek.
A cloud shifted in the sky above, and a beam of light from the night sky suddenly revealed that the weapon Dust held in his hand was a sort of scythe, though its blade was crude and angular.
“W-who do you think you are!?” A man in armor yelled as he came dashing over.
“There’s still more of you guys?” Dust said, almost sounding annoyed.
The new challenger suddenly noticed what was behind the foreign intruder. There was a large hedge in the way, but just around the bush he could see what appeared to be a field of bodies. Others who had tried to challenge to white-haired warrior before him, and failed.
He shivered. A sudden cold came over him and he felt his joints become stiff. He looked back at the man who he was challenging. He looked so inconspicuous, but he wasn’t covered in the blood of his comrades for nothing.
The soldier tried to continue his charge, but he found that he couldn’t move. He was frozen in fear.
More than anything, the thing that scared him the most was the look that his enemy was giving him. From underneath his bushy white hair, you could see his eyes passively watching the guard. Waiting, unmoving, observing.
Though, after a few too many moments of staring, the soldier grew impatient with himself, and tried to find confidence.
His shaky hands gripped his sword, and he approached the intruder, somewhat slowly at first. Though soon he gained in both speed and spirit. Eventually, he found himself running downhill, charging at the enemy below.
Though, the guard’s efforts were in vain, for he was soon thwarted by a sharp gust of wind slamming into his gut.
He didn’t even make it close enough to add to the blood on his coat.
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I bet you’ll feel guilty for what happened
Don’t worry.
I’m not someone who is worthy of those feelings.
I’m sorry if my methods are cruel,
But I will make sure that when you wake,
things will be different.
The white haired boy lightly placed his lips over an envelope, and sealed his note. Gently, he remade the bed that the girl had let him enjoy for a short time. Then, he tucked his note neatly away, squared between the soft pillow and pristine sheets.
He smiled, then leapt out from a window at the back of the suite.
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Illustria
March 20th, 11,901 AC
3:03AM
Dust knelt down in front of a large wooden door.
Its frame was grandiose in scale. It seemed to tower over him as he hunkered down beneath the handle.
He held a long metal pick into the lock, and jiggled a different piece of metal inside the device while turning it. Eventually, there was a light snap, then a sharp resounding click. The door fell open.
The sound of crickets filled the halls of the home.
He tiptoed into the door very quiet-like. He was making sure to take his time. The boy had done dangerous things in the past, but this far surpassed all of his previous endeavors. If Rosè’s house was enemy territory, this mansion was equivalent to walking into the gates of hell.
Though he took his time with the guards outside, he didn’t want to attract attention by breaking a window, so simply went in through the front door.
Once he was inside, he noted how large in scale the building was. The entryway alone gave him the impression this was on a different scale than even Rosè’s wealth. There was a sleek marble floor, almost as if it was a governmental building. After quite the walk, the floor of marble gave way to a hallway on either side, and a large winding staircase up the middle. Dust observed the lifelike way that the stairs seemed to wrap into the halls of higher floors and he shuddered. He couldn’t imagine living in a place like this.
Either way, his entry was a success. He ignored the manor for a moment and turned around to shut the door behind him.
A great darkness fell on the room. He could no longer see anything, but he had taken the time to remember where things were. Quietly, he started heading to the stairs, but that was when he heard a strange sound.
It was faint at first, like rain, falling with intermittent pitter-patter on the front porch. But soon, it became resounding, all encompassing.
Clack… Clack… Clack… Clack…
It was footsteps, loud ones. And with each and every one, a sharp echo ran down the stairs of marble, and throughout the hollow estate.
Dust stared.
He looked up the stairs. For a moment the boy swore he could’ve seen someone in all red.
But no, he could just see their eyes. Yes, just their eyes and their eyes’ immediate surroundings. He could tell the person was female, because strangely, she had irises that glowed a deep scarlet, even in the shadow, illuminating her face for him to see from the bottom of the stairwell.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
There was a drawn out period of tension. Dust dared not say anything, and for some reason, the lady didn't either. At least, not until she got closer. Close enough down into the moonlight that Dust could now see her silky black hair, and strange flowing robes.
“How did you get in here?” She asked in an oddly peaceful tone.
Though, the boy ignored her question.
“Ah, I know what you are.” He mouthed. “You’re one of those diseased folk. I thought it was just an urban legend, but those eyes are the real deal.”
“You know what I am and yet you haven’t run?” The lady chuckled. “Has fear gotten the best of you?”
“I was just thinking I would let you attack first,” the boy stared. “I’m here to kill your Lord, if you’re looking for a reason to fight me, there it is.”
The lady began to sprint down the stairs. “Oh I don’t need a reason!” She dropped her weight into the lower part of her body, and darted forward like an animal. The beast maneuvered down a flight of stairs, climbing the rails like a cat, and then lunging at the boy all in a matter of seconds. “I want nothing more than to feed on you!” She screamed.
And as she shouted, a pair of large fangs in her mouth were revealed in the light. She spread her arms out wide and showed her sharp claws. Her long cloak flew off from her back, and revealed the rags and chains beneath it.
She struck with her deadly nails, swiping both hands at the boy. But he brought his staff in front of himself and parried her two blows. She was sent flying back to the stairs, but just as she was about to land against them, she slammed her hands into the ground, then backflipped up the top of the first flight again.
“So, you’re formidable,” the girl chuckled. “You reacted to that... I’m getting excited.”
“Well obviously I’m no pushover,” Dust scratched his head. “I had to get through all those guards somehow.”
“What, then?” The sickly lady started. “Did you kill all of our guards? Are their corpses still laying outside full of warm fresh blood!?” The girl started to howl and laugh with excitement. Her behavior bothered the boy. He thought the way she spoke was oddly childish, but he could tell from that short interaction that her strength was nothing to scoff at.
She lunged at him again, this time striking at him with a chain that was bound to her wrist. She cracked the torn shackle like a whip.
Dust raised his staff in defense, but he wasn’t able to block all of the force. Some of the chain wrapped around his weapon, and it was snatched from his hands. He looked down at his palms in confusion, wondering what had happened.
When he looked back up at the red-eyed lady, she was holding the staff out with one hand and stroking it softly with the other. “Just how much blood have you spilled with this thing?” She moaned.
“You’re quite the crazy bitch.”
“Well of course,” she sang. “I am a thrall, and my master prefers me this way!” The lady suddenly started to lick all over the staff. Stopping to slurp and suck up all the blood in areas particularly dense with it.
“So, this disease…” Dust started. “You get it when you make a contract with Vorelle, Hand of Gluttony, correct?”
“You know more than you’ve led on, are you curious about me?” The lady chuckled. “I have long given up my humanity in return for eternal youth and the need not to drink, sleep, or eat ever again. The only stipulation is that I must feed on human blood. That is no issue of course, because Lord Ramsey assures that all his thralls are fed well.”
“Mm, so you live a good life here then?”
“More idle chatter?” She laughed again. “Fine, I will play along… I live an amazing life at Lord Ramsey’s side. I suppose the only real issue I have with the contract is the reason we of Vorelle’s Curse are called The Nocturnal in the first place; I will never see the light of the day again. The sun rejects us. When someone branded by their gluttony tries to walk in the sun, it starts to steal our soul. We spend our lives cursing it.”
“Ah so that explains why you’re so pale.”
“Mm, I am pale indeed,” The lady started to rub her body. Feeling all over her own arms and her chest. She danced about in a strange manner, touching and caressing her own skin and galivanting all over the first flight of stairs. “This is the pale skin that Lord Ramsey loves!” she sang. “You interest me, what are you called?”
“Dust.”
“I like to know the names and the personality of the corpses I make.” She giggled. “Though, I’m sure playing make-believe with bodies is a privilege that a common-boy dressed like you wouldn’t understand. I think I’ll make you an important character in my dollhouse drama!”
Suddenly, the lady leapt up towards the ceiling. Just before she collided with the rafters, she planted herself against the chandelier in the center of the room, and used it to fling back at the boy. She flew at him with her mouth wide open and spit flying in all directions. Her fangs were trained at this neck.
Quickly, he stepped to the side, causing the girl to come slamming down into the floor.
She impacted hard into the ground, generating enough force with her mystical prowess that she even cracked the marble. Though, she wasted no time against the ropes. She recovered fast, then slashed at the boy a couple times with her claws.
He put out his right palm and kept her at bay using some of his wind magic.
“DIE! DIE! DIE!” The lady squealed.
She suddenly broke out into a dance of attacks, a flurry of claw strikes, coming from seemingly impossible angles repeatedly. The white-haired wanderer stayed on the defensive. “I’ll MAKE YOUR BLOOD RAIN!” The diseased one let forth a shrieking howl. It sounded like metal being grinded, a sharp screech.
Dust couldn’t help but cover his ears.
In that moment of hesitation, the lady ravaged him with her claws. Swiping them back and forth, up and down, and all over. She sent cloth and splatters of blood flying off in every direction.
“Christmas already!?” She sang. “It’s like I'm unwrapping gifts!”
Slowly, the pale lady noticed that it was getting harder and harder to maul him as she was. Her nails just wouldn’t sink far enough. There was a force pushing her away.
She looked down past the mess of blood and rags, and there she saw the boy, grasping onto his necklace.
“A pendant!?” She shouted. “You're with a church!?”
“The church of Gestus,” he declared. “Loosely that is.”
“Curse the church! Those fools have come and tried to rid Durham of us Inner Circle members many times. Foolish missionaries. They always end up as cattle.” She smirked. “I’ve gotten quite good at fighting wind magic thanks to them though!”
“Yeah, well my magic is a bit special,” Dust looked forward. He kept his grasp on his necklace tight, and more and more force filled the room. Eventually it grew hard for Vanessa to even stand, let alone attack.
“All you’re doing is projecting your voice.” The Nocturnal chuckled. “You’re wasting your energy, you’ll be out of magic in no time!”
“Will I?”
While the girl was unable to move, Dust stood still, and concentrated on his staff. He held it in front of him and the cloud emblem on his necklace began to glow bright, casting away the shadows of the manor.
“There’s no way…” She grunted. “How are you still projecting your voice? Just how much of it do you have!?”
A large sum of wind began to gather at one end of the weapon, forming and forging into a long crescent. The wind became a translucent solid, similar to glass, and had situated itself somewhat permanently at the end of his stick. His staff had become a sickle, and strangely the magic held.
“WE HAVE LIVED LIKE THIS FOR CENTURIES!” The woman shouted. “I won’t let some c-commoner have Master Edward’s life!”
The girl sat kneeling against the ground, unable to move. She struggled to even look up at the boy as he brought his scythe over her head.
“This isn’t life.” He scoffed. “It's a cheap imitation. Your existence, which was once pure, has now been twisted and perverted for reasons I may never understand. I will end your days on this earth, demon.``
He swung his weapon to his side, but just as he was about to behead the beast, it was set free from its shackles, and scurried away down the carpet.
“You overpowered my voice?” He asked, genuinely surprised.
“I am Count Vanessa Pierdae, Second Lady of House Ramsey, and I am no calf, boy.” The vampire swung her sharp nails to the boy’s side and impaled him with her talons. He winced and fell onto her arm, but she held him up, and even let his chin fall against her shoulder.
She held him close and embraced him. Her fangs were so close to his ear now. They leaked drooled down onto her bottom row of teeth as she prepared to speak.
“Do you understand boy?” She whispered. “From the moment you chose to kill Lord Ramsey… you were already mine.”
For some reason, ever since the claws entered his side, the boy had found it impossible to gain any strength. He was left stuck in humiliation, relaxing over the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she rubbed his head. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”
She licked her lips, wrapped her teeth around his neck, and then bit into his flesh.
The boy could feel her tongue against his skin, the teeth gnawing in his back, and he could feel as every blood cell was pulled up to his artery, and then out of his body.
He could also feel Vanessa’s tongue twitch every time his blood entered her mouth. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Though, after only a few sips, she backed away.
“W-what is this?”
The woman fell to her knees and bent over the carpet. She held her stomach with one hand, and covered her mouth with the other. She hacked and coughed repeatedly, spitting blood all over the floor. Her whole body seemed to be convulsing, rapidly trying to remove something from its system.
“WHAT IS THIS TASTE!?”
Puke began to escape from her mouth in waves. She spilled the bloody contents of her stomach all over the floor, repeatedly, each time hacking and coughing.
“This taste… THIS FEELING!” She cried. “Feeding has never felt displeasurable like this. My body won't work p-properly… It is as though my very being is rejecting you! Rejecting your blood! What even are you!?”
“I’m no one special,” he dismissed.
Now that he was freed from the Countess’ claws, he could finally fight back. He used his wind magic to return his scythe to his hand, then brandished it at the beast.
“THIS TASTE!” She yelled again. “THIS TASTE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!?”
The Nocturnal started to attack all over the place with her claws as she had done before, but this time she was much more desperate. Dust was on the defensive, also much the same as earlier, though this time with his scythe.
Every strike from the diseased was so heavy that he almost felt his footing fall apart each time. Though, he maintained his balance and kept up his guard going long enough for the demon to tire herself out.
Dust gripped his scythe and thrust its blade towards Vanessa’s skull. Just as it was about to connect, the creature tossed her left hand out in front of her to try and stop the weapon. The long crescent sickle was so sharp that it glided through her hand, and almost reached all the way to her face before it ran out of force.
She took the claws of her right hand and severed her left off at the wrist.
Despite the fact that she had just removed an appendage, no blood left her arm. She did not bleed even a single ounce. Dust took note of her strange ability. “I take it that's another quirk of your contract?” He asked.
But the countess did not answer.
No, she did not even hear the boy. The taste she had described earlier seemed to dement her, changing everything down to her appearance.
She took to putting all four of her limbs to the floor when she walked. Her shoulders had stretched apart from one another, and she maneuvered her way across the ground with eerie ease.
Dust backed away. He was not yet aware of what this thing was capable of.
Quickly, he realized he made the right call, when the creature began to thrash about. Suddenly her mouth swung open so wide that an entire person began crawling out of it, or something that resembled a person anyways. It was dark, almost formless, like a shadow. And yet, it was there, being born unto this moonlight night.
It had two small white dots for eyes. They stared at the boy, “I won’t let you…!” He heard the eyes say to him. “I won’t let you hurt him… I won’t let you… I won’t let you.”
The girl that this thing once was now lay as a sack of skin and meat, rotting on the carpet.
“My blood did all this?” The wanderer questioned. He examined the carcass on the ground for a moment, but he couldn’t think of any reason why this would've happened. “At any rate, this is why people shouldn’t touch contracts.” He decided.
The small formless creature manifested massive wings, bat-like, which spread out from its back. It was small, like a child. A shadow in the shape of a tiny girl, with wings the span of many meters. “I won’t let you hurt him…” It repeated, sobbing. “I won’t let you hurt him.”
Dust approached the fell creature with his scythe drawn long and high.
But the tiny devil did not just sit idly by. It started to thrash about, swinging its heavy wings and large claws around in an almost mindless manner.
Though they had no thought behind them, the attacks were far too frequent and powerful for Dust to keep up. He retreated in a leap, hurling himself back towards the front door. The creature moaned in a high-pitch screech, turned to face the boy, then flapped its wings.
At seemingly sonic speeds, the demon-spawn appeared before the traveler, and continued its barrage of attacks. His retreat was a failure, and now he was left pinned to the wall, and forced to suffer the damage.
In just a matter of moments he felt her nails stab into him all over, and the excruciating pain. His blood was being spilled in small quantities repeatedly, time and time again. He felt himself slipping.
But in a last ditch effort, he gripped his pendant tight. He grunted through the pain and released the rest of his voice around him.
It was unleashed in the form of wind, spreading out from him and casting everything away. The shadow was sent flying. Beyond the stairs and even out of the windows behind them. The hellspawn flew through the glass, and it shattered, sending shards in all directions.
Though, the wanderer had just used the last of his voice, and now found it hard to even command his limbs. He thought for sure that the end was near, and that at any moment Vanessa’s spawn was going to reappear and somehow murder him. Though it was taking quite some time to recover.
He limped back inside the manor, walking towards the window.
Once he got near his shoes started to crunch through the fallen glass. He pressed his face up to one of the panes still intact and looked outside.
He could see the demon, laying on its knees and sobbing.
He shattered the rest of the window with a wide swing of his staff, then started to limp towards the darkened child.
As he got closer, he began to hear its strange wimpers. In some ways they were similar to that of a dog, though much higher pitched. Certainly not the sounds of a human.
“Save me…” It cried.
“Hm?” Dust walked up to the demon, directly in front of it now. At first he was anxious, but it never started attacking him. It just kept sobbing, letting more and more tears spill into its balled-up fists. “Save me…” It cried again. “Please, save me.”
The traveler stared at the beast. He wasn’t sure whether or not he could trust it yet, but he still answered as he willed.
“I cannot be the one to save you.”
“No, you’re the only one who can save me,” it said, now sounding much more human. “Your blood tasted awful… But it seems to be undoing my demonic construct. I finally remember who I was before my contract! Please, you’re the only one who can free me!”
“Now that you’re conscious, can’t you just kill yourself!? I don’t see why it has to be me.”
The woman looked off to the side. “We the gluttonous cannot die by ordinary means…”
“So you’re saying I never had any chance of killing you?”
“Not without silver or fire,” The woman sighed. “Anyways, I feel myself returning. My contract is catching back up to me and soon I will return to my earlier form, becoming loyal to Edward once again. Please, you must give me some of your blood and end this.”
“I don’t see why it has to be me…”
“Whatever the reason, you are the only one.” Vanessa stated. “I no longer have the fangs to pierce you, I need you to feed me your blood.”
“...” The boy stared, expressionless.
“I do not understand why you hesitate! Please hurry and kill me, then kill that bastard Edward! I’m not the only victim. There’s dozens of others in here, locked away! Please, set us free.”
“I can’t be anyone’s savior,” the boy repeated, shaking. “Though, I suppose I could kill a few devils.”
The boy’s arm was dripping with blood, so he hung it over the devil’s mouth. The small shadow opened its jaw wide and revealed a white void on the other side of its teeth.
Dust let a few drops of his blood enter the beast’s mouth, and that seemed to be plenty, because suddenly it began to writhe around in pain, going back to thrashing and screaming once more.
Dust watched as it morphed back and forth from its previous form to the skinless one, rolling about the grass and gasping for air.
Each time that Vanessa went into the demonic child form, it was smaller and smaller, and she repeated the process over and over, until eventually she was so small that she became nothing. Dust stared as he felt her voice fade from the air.
He looked back at the manor and a tear fell from his eye.
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—----------------------
“Who might you be?” Lightning struck as a man sat up in his bed. Thunder was sounding all throughout the town, and the man had just awoken to the sounds of the storm only to notice a silhouette standing in his room.
Though, he acted oddly calm. There was a stranger staring at him, yet he simply sat up against the headboard, and eyed the figure on the other side of his bed. It was far too dark for the man to discern any details besides his outline. But, on the occasion that lightning would flash, he would get a brief visual of the intruder. His white hair and dark skin. “I assume you are after my life, then?” The man questioned.
“This happens often?” The figure asked.
“I make a great deal of enemies,” the man chuckled. “Though, this nose of mine never fails me. I’ve never been caught off guard before… Tell me, how did you manage to get through the guards?”
“I killed them.”
For a moment, the wanderer could see fear on The Crow’s face. “Even Vanessa?” He asked.
“Even Vanessa.” Dust replied.
“Oh, I see... I suppose it is over for me then,” the man grumbled. “I’ve lived a good many years, be over with it then!”
“That’s all?” Dust asked. “No struggle?”
“I will give you no struggle.”
“I see those eyes of yours,” the intruder said sharply. “I know what you are. I know what you are capable of.”
“No,” the man coughed. “I’m not the same as Vanessa. I am a failed Nocturnal. I only have the curses of the contract and none of its gifts. Even my eternal youth seems to be running dry.”
“What gift could something like that possibly grant?”
“Eternal life. Ah, I desired it so… Though, I suppose my time here was not wasted.” The man smiled. “I’ve had centuries of fun, I suppose it is time to fall from grace.”
“I don’t get it…” Dust paused. “How come Rosè has to suffer through life when people like you get to die happy!?” He shouted.
“Rosè?” The man started to laugh. “I never imagined this was over a girl! Haha, yes I’m very fond of that one. She has grown up quite well, hasn’t she? I’ve had my eye on that one since she was a young little lass.”
“...” The wanderer stared in silence.
“Yes!” The man yelled. “The true greatest ability of a Nocturnal is that when you share your blood with others, the disease spreads, and those who have contracted it from you can never disobey you! They become obsessed with you and your blood. They become slaves who will die for you on a whim… Oh, I usually love to watch the girls suffer for a few years before I break them and make them mine forever! Rosè was just so defiant and adorable I couldn’t resist building the tension! Ah, alas I do have one regret in the final moments. I never got to make her -”
Before the man could finish his thought, Dust dropped his scythe down into his face.
Suddenly, all sound ceased. The only noise that remained was the storm that kept raging on outside. Dust looked at the corpse of Edward. He watched his blood spread over the sheets, and trickle down onto the carpet.
Even the corpse of a scumbag like Edward made Dust shudder a little. New bodies always brought back memories that he’d rather not remember. He loathed that hot smell of blood in the air.
“There’s nothing left in this place but sin.”
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One day, when you finally take to the road
I want you to live differently than me.
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Dust walked away from the mansion as it burned with a large volume of smoke and flame. He scurried off through the yard, fleeing as the light of the fire reached up high into the moonlit night. He could hear the sounds of people gathering over the trees.
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I know that it’s selfish,
But I don’t want you to be a Waybreaker.
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“Quickly!” A man holding a pitchfork shouted.
“Don’t let him get away!” Another holding a torch agreed.
A large crowd of citizens and guards alike chased the foreign boy through the marshes. He ran through the thick undergrowth of the mangroves, cutting around the long way in the woods.
Sure enough the group of people was far too large and inexperienced to follow him out into the wild. He soon lost them and was left alone with the crickets. Though, he had no time to waste. Morning would soon be upon him and there would surely be no way to hide.
He ventured to the other end of the swamp, until he came upon the goliath that was the inner-city wall.
The wall was just what he was looking for. He followed the vast structure of brick down its perimeter, walking until eventually he found an entrance into the sewer.
____________________________________
It’s like you said,
We live to reject society, the world, and all that is.
But I don’t think that you’re like us.
I don’t think you should be involved with me.
After all
You’ve proven to me that even in a cold and dark place like this,
A flower can still bloom.
Safe travels.
Dust.
___________________________________
Rosè stood alone in the guest room. The light of the morning poured in through the curtains, which blew in the wind from outside.
The lady stood still at the bedside and held Dust’s letter up in front of her, reading over it carefully. She read it word for word, time and time again, thinking of the day that they had shared together. Though, once she could not bear to read his message anymore, she brought the paper to her face, and sobbed into her hands.
“I’m no flower, you idiot,” she mouthed softly.