Kaya screamed as her mind returned to her, pain ripping through her like the jagged edge of a well-used knife. She slumped to the floor, her chests heaved great gasps of air that stank of rot. The crumbling ruins of her mental sanctuary groaned around her, threatening to collapse at the slightest disturbance.
A gentle hand touched her shoulder and she flinched away, raising her head to glare into the gray eyes that cursed her with kindness.
"I'm sorry," Isaac said, pulling back his hand from her. "I didn't want you to see all of that. But now at least you should understand--"
"Do you think you can break my will by showing me how hard you had it?!" Kaya snapped, baring her teeth. It had been a close thing, she had to admit; she could still feel the lingering emotions Isaac's memories had stirred in her. But in her own body and mind, she had no room for sympathy. The cracks that had formed when her brother had been taken from her allowed all sense of joy and hope to drain away, until nothing was left but her hate. "You have always had power! You pretend to be weak and ignorant, but I saw the visions you had! You knew Pahana would die, didn't you!? And you let it happen anyway!"
Kaya's own visions were vague glimpses of images, like trying to peer through rippling water at something far below the surface. They were nothing compared to the clarity of Isaac's visions. With that kind of power, she could have prevented so many deaths; Isaac deserved any pain that came his way for allowing it to happen.
Isaac sighed wearily, and Kaya noticed for the first time since waking that he had returned to his usual appearance. "If I had even a modicum of control over my powers, I would never have lost Stephanie. I don't get to choose what my visions show me, or when they happen. And even if I did, I'm not smart enough to figure out a way to prevent them."
"Liar!" Kaya snapped. Her cheeks burned with the sting of tears, but she ignored them. "Pahana is dead because of you! You could have saved him! You could have saved everyone!"
Her gut twisted with pleasure as she caught the look of guilt and shame that flashed across Isaac's face. She rose to her feet, still clutching a hand to her chest to stem the pain as she glared down at his bowed head. "You will pay for his death, just as Dr. Higgins did. Then I will finally have peace again."
Isaac's head raised to look at her, and again she was surprised by the transformation as he aged fifty years before her eyes. "Your mind is shattered, Kaya; you cannot have peace for as long as it is in ruins." He gestured to the cracked walls, and shattered furniture around them; a smoky shadow seeped through those cracks like a toxin. "Until you take the time to rebuild your own mind, no peace cannot linger long here."
"And you think you can fix me?" Kaya spat at the old man in disgust. "With your own mind shattered into pieces? I can feel your fear; I saw the same things that haunted you. And I see your weakness now. You are divided against yourself, unable to take what you want, even if you could decide what it was." Kaya shivered with pleasure as she unveiled Isaac's secrets before him. She had a clearer sense of him now, as his spirit twisted under her words like a worm pierced by a fishhook.
But Isaac's expression of pity never changed, even as his appearance shifted back to his younger self: the hard man of bitterness and pragmatism. "I may be shattered, but each part of me remembers what I promised. Even if the world I know is taken--even if everyone I care about is gone, there's only one thing that I will ever want."
Kaya waited for him to continue, though her will gathered itself around her to clash one last time.
Isaac shifted again before her eyes, reverting back to a child of eight. His smile had returned; the same smile that looked so out of place on his older self shone with purity and innocence now. "I want to be happy, so that I can share happiness with everyone I meet."
Kaya's heart wrenched inside her chest. At that moment, she saw Pahana reflected in Isaac's gray eyes and her rage faltered. He might have even said something like that himself once, though she couldn't remember for sure. She realized in that instant that she knew almost nothing about the boy; that everything she believed about Isaac had been born from delusions of hatred and thoughts of revenge.
Isaac held out a hand to her, welcoming her even as she still poised to strike him again with her power. She started to reach for Isaac's hand, her certainty in her cause shattered.
"You're forgiving him for what he did to me?" a voice echoed through Kaya's mind, and she froze as she recognized it.
Pahana... Her brother's face seemed to hover in front of her, blocking her vision of Isaac.
"He taught me to fight so that he wouldn't have to," Pahana said, bitterness lacing his words. "He only ever cared about his friends; everyone else was a sacrifice. He is manipulating you, just like he manipulated me. The only deaths he's trying to prevent are his and those few he cares about. How else could he be able to smile after so many have died."
The image of Pahana's face shifted aside, revealing Isaac once more. Isaac still smiled at her, but he appeared confused now, as though unsure why she hadn't taken his hand yet.
"I know his secret though," Pahana whispered in her ear. "A secret he has told no one."
Kaya's lips curled into a smile for the first time since she was first torn from her home. A terrible glee filled her, a madness that buoyed her receding rage until it bubbled out of her mouth in painful laughter.
"You are doomed," Kaya said once her delirium had calmed enough for her to speak, though it still strained to wash over her again. Her hand shot out and she grabbed the boy by the face, holding tight so he couldn't pull away. "You know you are marching toward oblivion, but you strain to hide behind a delusion! Whose death have you seen?"
Power surged through her, thick and venomous as she forced the information from his mind. She didn't care where the power came from, just that it gave her the strength to overwhelm the boy she hated. Now it showed her a vision: a wasteland; two impossible armies; that fool, Bryce Sheffield, still wearing his eyepatch, crushed under a wave of shadow. Kaya became aware of the laughter that tore from her lips now, though it sounded strange to her ears.
"Master!" she cried, tears brimming her eyes. "At long last! With my own eyes I have seen your return! Ah, what sweet madness!" She did not know where those words came from, only that they reverberated through her very bones from the power they carried.
Isaac wrenched free from her grasp, and he backed away slowly, carefully. "Stop hurting her," he said, his voice a barely controlled sob.
Kaya turned her eyes to him, her spark of rage reignited now that she had seen what haunted him. "Fool, fool, fool!" she spat the words at him. "You wandered into my nest with such confidence, but I have you trapped now!" With the flick of her wrist, she banished the door to her mind, leaving the blank surface of the wall in its place.
Isaac took another step back, his eyes wide as he looked at her with horror. "You would seal yourself inside your own mind for a chance to kill me?" he gasped, clutching at himself to still the trembling that he could not hide from her.
"If that is what it takes to destroy you," Kaya said, her throat aching from the rawness of her voice. Now that she could feel the power, she opened herself fully to it, allowed it to flow through her, enveloping her in its terrible might.
Isaac watched as Kaya's power burned her from within, turning her pupils white. The house which represented her mind trembled from the strain she placed on it, until Isaac was sure she intended to kill him, even if it cost her life. The noxious smell of the shadow being soaked through her, the source of her power. Her words, prophesying the return of a "master", were not her own, though she would never become aware of this on her own.
Kaya thrust out her hand, and the raw force of her power crashed into him, thick as oil and forceful as a hurricane. It screamed of the pain and anguish that Isaac had feared all his life. And it sounded so desperate and helpless it made his bones ache.
He could have avoided her attack, but that would have destroyed the little stability left in Kaya's mind. Instead, he welcomed it, drawing it into himself like a sponge. He was used to nightmares, after all: no attack of the mind could ever harm him again, thanks to what he learned from the kindness of Stephanie Hall, his one-time nanny. Even as Kaya's power rained down on him, trying to snuff out his life, Isaac braced himself and smiled back at her.
Kaya lunged for him again, reaching for his throat. Isaac caught her right arm and held it, gentle but firm. She struggled to break his grip, striking his face with her free arm instead. Her blows were deflected by the barrier Isaac projected, but she persisted anyway. He lowered his gaze slowly, until his eyes finally locked on the fingers of her right hand. There, on her middle finger sat a silver ring with a large red gem set in it.
Even as he watched it, his eyes slipped around it, unable to focus on the gem. It was like the gem was trying to evade his attention, and it confirmed what he had suspected. He released Kaya's arm, and she leapt back from him, panting heavily through grit teeth.
"Where did you get that ring?" Isaac asked, keeping his voice level.
"What ring!?" Kaya demanded, the shadow receded from her eyes. "You can't distract me so easily, Isaac! I have never owned a ring!"
Isaac smiled again, broader this time as he saw the shadow that flitted beneath her eyes.
"Why do you care where I got it?" Kaya asked, her voice taking a harsher note than before, like the one she used when she had spoken of her "master".
Isaac met her gaze, his heart pounding with the fear he had kept buried within all his life.
"Madling." Although he spoke the name without inflection, it left a bitter taste in his mouth, accompanied by the hot stench of decay.
At being named, the ring on Kaya's finger began to shift in appearance. The gold band unwound from her finger and stretched out from the red jewel in several directions, even as it began to grow in size. Finally the last of its illusion fell away, revealing the creature that hid beneath it: a giant spider. The creature was bigger than Kaya's hand, though even now she did not seem to notice it, her eyes, full of hate, still locked on Isaac.
"Isaac Matthews, elect of the wise men!" the spider said, its voice thin as whisper. "Your eyes are dangerous indeed, if you can see through my veil."
Isaac's smile never faltered. "Are you the shadow that claimed Pahana? I admit that my knowledge of your kind is very limited." he asked, his tone now taking a friendly note.
The Madling cackled even as the house around them shook at the mention of Kaya's brother. "My master claimed him through another of my brothers," the Madling answered. "We are everywhere, Isaac; even if I cannot take you, another will."
"I'd like to see you try," Isaac challenged.
The Madling laughed again, harsh and bloody, using Kaya as the mouthpiece to taunt him. "My form is not here! You cannot harm me, only the girl! Would you really kill her to get to me?"
Isaac didn't answer, fear flickering across his face for an instant. In that same instant, Kaya rushed him.
The following is an excerpt from The Law of Injustice - Origin of the Dark Paladin, from the Great Library of Justice.
"The truth always condemns as equally as it saves."
Titus gripped his scriptures firmly as he reviewed the laws of the god of Justice; this--his fifteenth year--was the year of selection, and only by proving himself could he fulfill his dream of becoming a Paladin. He sat by the southern wall of the temple exterior, hidden from sight lest his fellows mock his studious attitude.
His parents died when he was young, and Titus was left in the care of the local Priest of Justice. He became a keen follower of Justice, the god who established and governed the laws and penalties of morality. Other children either followed a different god, or aspired to a more traditional life; Titus' passion was unmatched, and for that most were jealous and unkind in their treatment towards him.
The sound of horses roused him from his studies, and he looked off toward the road to see a cavalcade of knightly men in white cloth and black-stained leathers, each bearing a standard with their mark--the mark of a Paladin. Excitement moved him, and he abandoned his hiding place to watch them better.
He easily identified each banner, and could name the Paladin who bore it with ease.
Camillus; Felix of Valeria; Antonius (who had quelled a recent dispute in Titus' home village); Julius; Octavia of Seneca (who stood as the sole female Paladin of Justice); Valens; and the greatest of all, Marcus Thadeous.
Thadeous was famed throughout all the lands of Otherworld for his power and skill. He never once turned away from a dispute, and was known for carrying out the will of Justice with unmatched prowess.
Titus watched them with awe, his heart swelling with pride and hope; he nearly burst with excitement when Marcus Thadeous greeted him across the distance with a wave. He returned the wave earnestly, grinning broadly as a child. He quickly dropped his hand, blushing with shame at his uncouth behavior; Thadeous laughed deeply at this, and turned his attention back to the path before him leading into the village.
Titus quickly gathered his thoughts and things and ran into the temple to alert the priest of the Paladins' arrival.
It was the day of selection. The Paladins, who had come to scout apprentices, were now gathered in the village hall with the priests and elders. Traditionally those desiring to become squires would be brought before them for examination but, as Titus was the sole applicant, the process was even more rigorous than usual.
He stood before the gathering with his heart pounding in his chest, answering their queries with respect and gravity. They quizzed him on many topics, from geography, to history, even to the races of Otherworld. Few were privileged to know the full history of Otherworld and the gods that ruled over the lands; the exiled gods were of special import to a Paladin as their heralds became demons with their fall. A great deal of the problems that arose were because of Madlings, Prattlers, and the like, and it was often a Paladin's responsibility to deal with them.
"What is the origin of Madlings?" Julius questioned, his expression ever serious.
"They were heralds of the god of Madness," Titus recited carefully; "he created them when he turned from his task of caring for those afflicted with madness to make war with the other gods among the others of dissent." Titus kept his eyes on Marcus Thadeous as he spoke, praying for Justice to grant him strength during his selection.
"What is the purpose of a Madling?" Octavia asked, offering a brief smile of encouragement to the nervous boy.
"The spread of madness is their purpose; they whisper words of confusion to the minds of mortals." Titus answered. He felt his confidence growing with each answer; the shaking of his hands lessened until he could hold them relaxed at his side.
"And what form do Madlings take?" it was Marcus Thadeous who asked this time.
Titus swallowed before answering, "A Madling can take many forms; because of their own mad nature, they often choose the guise of raiment or jewelry that their victims carry with them lest they lose themselves. Their true form is much like a spider, and only through magic or sane-will can their true form be revealed."
--Horthau, Third High Priest of Justice, Year 140PD