Lyse was not able to fully understand what was going on. He never thought that a ghost would be the first shocking information of the day, but it did prove to be the case. And he was talking to one, somehow. And this was not just any specter, but one of a godslayer, a member of Theurgy who knew his mother. His name was Maurice and supposedly was born and raised here in Pumavut. He also didn't think that the pendant of death would be in a place like this, and he could find it in such a way. It was bizarre for him to think about. But Fate does work in unconventional ways, most often. It is difficult to criticize something that had been so consistent so far.
But still, the thought of ghosts was chilling for him. You never hear good stories about them. Well, real stories. There are some tales that show some ghosts to be quite benevolent, helping a noble find the killer of his family or providing something to the hero that would otherwise be impossible. But from accounts of knights, they can be quite a difficult entity to deal with once they get violent. It was a coin toss what kind of ghost Lyse has stumbled upon.
"You can calm yourself, I'm not going to tear you apart," Maurice told him merrily. "Let's just have a nice little chat, and you'll be on your way. I can tell you've been quite busy. So, how has your mother been? And how did you find this place?"
"My mother told me this was the last place you were seen," He told him. Lyse was a bit hesitant to tell this man about his mother, but angering a ghost was lower on his priorities than disclosing information. "My mother, she's been . . . fine. Theurgy is being reassembled, starting with me I think. We're looking for the pendants and other members at the moment. But first, we have other business to handle."
"Other business?" the ghosts seemed unable to care less about all that he said. "Interesting. So what, they kidnapped someone? Wait, don't tell me, your girlfriend right? You seem like the lad who'd do something like that."
"No," Lyse said lowly. "My sister actually."
The smile on Maurice's face soured a bit. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. Then I guess you were looking for this then. Well, now is as good as a time as any. Take it, please. Almost surprised that Talin hasn't found it before, but I made sure they're still a mess since the war, right. Either way, you're crazy enough to get this far. Here's your complimentary kiss on the cheek."
Maurice tossed the necklace towards him. Lyse fumbled to catch it trying and failing to make it as delicate as possible. Lyse didn't know exactly what to expect when he touched it, but nothing did happen. The pendant around his neck did nothing as well. The pendant just glowed that faint purple glow. It was cold to the touch, much like the feel of Thanatos's hand around his arm. But there was also something slightly comforting to the pendant as well. Nowhere near the safety, he felt from the pendant of life, but something that made the darkness seem not as dark. When Lyse looked up, Maurice had a grave expression that studied him as if trying to predict a storm. After nothing happening, he gave a deep sigh and turned back to his throne.
"Well, the deed is done," he told Lyse. "The pendants are to be treasured, not to be handled lightly. They hold quite the power. Kept me tied to this world long enough to pass the message."
Lyse frowned. "Couldn't the message be a little less grim?"
Maurice gave him a sad chuckle. "I didn't choose the method. If we still had that damn book . . . I was afraid that some mage might crawl down here to take the damned thing, but luckily they're all confined to that island I suppose. That bastard Remmus really keeps them all on leashes doesn't he?"
"Who?" Lyse asked him, but he waved away the question.
"Doesn't matter, I suppose," he told him. "Just be glad that you're the one to find it. The pendants have the tendency to be lost or stolen a lot in the past. See this as my way of hiding in plain sight. Even if Talin knows of this location, they most likely would never try to get the thing. It might as well be a useless watch that kills anything around it it doesn't like. Bad history kid. Anyhow, before you go, can you do something for me? My dying wish, I suppose."
"Of course?" Lyse said, dropping the pendant into his pouch of soaked coins. "What is it?"
Somehow, the grave tone in his voice became darker as he took his seat on the decrepit throne. Until this point, Maurice seemed like a solid man, but now he began to pale, and become transparent. More and more by the second, as if he had lost power due to no contact with the pendant. But the look in his eyes was intense still. And that smile grew dangerous. He pointed to the pendant, resting himself back on the throne. For a moment, Lyse felt something rather sinister from him. Or, so kind of malevolence from the pendant in reaction to his action.
"Warn him of the danger of wielding such power," he said. "No man should govern over life and death, and the power of the gods is not meant for mortal girth. The thing will drive him mad. Just like those who came before me. They litter those caves among the pour souls that fall victim to the pendant's call for a user. It drove them mad, and it drove me mad. So whoever he or she is, warn them for me, alright. Or they may end up on this throne one day."
Lyse watched as the man began to deteriorate. Tendrils of blackish purply veins began to snake their way up to his arms, consuming him and taking his vitality till he looked no more than a mere curse. Those tendrils consumed him, till he was a mere shadow sitting on the throne slowly vanishing away. It didn't look painful, more like a statue that had quickly been overtaken by vine, and left to crumble. The bones were left there, the rusted crown still atop his head, but the dependant no longer swaying within the heart of his chest. It was in Lyse's hands now. Two pendants already. It would be an understatement to say that he expected thisto happen today of all days.
As he turned towards the exit, he found himself face to face with the merchant, standing near the mouth of the cave and waiting patiently.
"I suppose he took a liking to you?" the merchant asked. "Maurice, I mean. My master has been keeping an eye on this place."
"Your master?" Lyse gave him another once over. There was no way someone with his athletic appearance could scale that well. He carried no visible weapon, only a book nestled inside his coat he could barely see. Lyse narrowed his eyes, his hand inching to unclip the blade at his side. "You're a mage, aren't you."
John nodded. He waved his hand before him, revealing a symbol tattooed on the palm. The tattoo began to glow a faint blue light, then suddenly the world blurred all around them. Lyse felt his insides suddenly dropped, and a nauseating wash ran through his nerves. The blur began to focus on hours and towers, the sun still low on the horizon, and the trees still vibrant. They were in an empty ally way, not too far from the central district. He knew mages liked their tricks and spells, and he was told a lot about them in his training. But meeting one up close was something to behold. Much like looking at a natural wonder that could turn and turn your blood to fire at a moment's instant. He at first felt uneasy but managed to calm down as john put down his arm, and didn't make a move to that book at his side.
"So, what is a mage doing in Koraki?"Lyse asked him.
"As demanding as the others," he sighed. "My master sent me here to lead you to the pendant. He knew you'd eventually come by Pumavut, so I lie and waited. Even managed to create a small side venture doing so."
"Your master?" Lysed gave him a perplexed look. "If he knew that, then surely he would have known of Talin chasing us. My mother nearly died fighting one of them."
John nodded to that, and for a moment, he looked someone between angry and sincere. "I am sorry, but I am not of a combative type I'm afraid. That lies on other's shoulders. If I could have, I would have jumped in immediately. My master simply told me to guide you, nothing more or less."
"And who is this master?" Lysed asked him.
John seemed a bit hesitant to answer, but he did so. "He was the former wielder of the pendant of magic, Remmus of Torlak."
That name struck a chord in the back of Lyse's mind. Immediately, anyone in the world would recognize that name. The indisputable leader in the world of magic and mysticism. Master of all elements and subjects of magic. And the ruler of the greatest nation of magic users there is. The Grandmaster of arts of Torlak, Remmus the magician. He was famous for what he had done during the civil war, siding withLiontari, but eventually closing Torlak to teaching their arts to others. To think that such a man to have even the slightest connection to him was a shivering thought to endure. But at last, it would make sense why he may have involved himself with Liontari in the first place.
"Remmus?" Lyse asked. "He sent you? Why? And you call him master?"
"Indeed," he said. "My name is John of Nule. A pleasure, young godslayer. I am an apprentice of sorts. I am also somewhat a protector. People like me swore fealty to Theurgy. We are members of sorts. But we charge ourselves for the protection of one of the bearers of the pendants."
Lyes thought back to Makyra, how she acted when he first met her that he found strange. "And Makyra is another one of them I'm guessing?"
That anger that had shown itself before surfaced again, this time not as well hidden, as Lyse noticed. "Yes, indeed. We've never met personally, but I do hope that to come."
Acknowledging the dangerous tone in his voice, Lyse thought it wise to steer the conversation away from her. He has an idea why he has such feelings for her, but they need not be said at the moment. "I guess I should thank you. If you can sense my location, could you perhaps do so with my sister?"
It was a hopeful thought, but it was still worth trying. However, the sad look on John's face squandered any hope in that regard. "I'm sorry, it's not that simple. The magic I use to locate and travel to people is a dangerous bit. Besides, there may not be much I can do." He paused for a moment and closed his eyes. Lyse felt shifting the air as if he was emitting something. That something, Lyse knew, was an aura. It was only a flash, but it was noticeable. He opened his eyes with a sigh. "She seems fine. She was someplace dark, so I could not see her surroundings. But she was fine."
"I can not thank you enough," Lyse told him. "We plan on meeting up with Makyra and going to Remmus for any clues for where they may have taken my sister. Is there any possibility that he may be able to do so?"
John scratched the stubble on his chin. "Perhaps. He has been away recently, so I have no clue as to if he'll be available. I'll at least make sure that he'll meet the lot of you when you get to Torlak. He doesn't like to be surprised."
It was a long shot, but at least it was an option. It was a bit comforting to know that there were others invested in saving his sister. He hasn't seen Makyra for weeks, but he knows just how determined she can be. She showed that devoutness before. If this john was even half that, it was already a better step forward than he can muster. John did tell him, before departing, that Makyra is nearing the port city Tiran to catch a ship to Torlak, and that if they were to hurry, they should catch up in time. That settled it for Lyse, they will leave as soon as possible, as soon as his mothers able at least. Then again, the others do need just a bit of time to wind down from what had occurred over the past couple of days.
(X)
"Are you sure that he'll be back soon?" Gray had settled at one of the tables, Elena sitting across with a cup of water in between her still palms. He had one before him as well, untouched, but fiddled with plenty. The guards were chatting amongst themselves now and taking less and less interest in them. The only one standing was Edlund nearest the door, watching the rising crowd surge through the day in and out of shops and such. A few even seemed headed towards the doctor's but one look at a disheveled man leaning against a table with a large sword made them hesitant.
"He'll be back," Edlund sighed. "He said so, he will. Although it wouldn't be a surprise if he found himself neck-deep in some other trouble He isn't a trouble maker by trade, mind you. But trouble finds him quite easily. Or at least I find trouble to bring to him. You get the idea."
"It's good for him to take a walk now and again," she took another shallow sip. "He thinks a lot. Perhaps seeing more of this city will calm his nerves. Seems like the type fond of walks, no?"
"Regardless of what he's fond of, what is our plan in explaining this to the other knights?" Gray asked them all. "We came in on pretty mysterious circumstances you know. And one look at the lot of us would give away we're fresh out of the womb. And the only one competent enough not to sound like a fool is comatose for the time being."
"It'll be fine," Edlund told them. "We aren't children. The fact we are knights should be enough for them to take our words with a grain of gold coin mixed in. And besides walking, Lyse is also a talker you know."
As his words concluded, the rustle of the guards signaled the entrance of Lyse, looking somehow more haggard than last they saw him. He was holding his splint under his arm, no discomfort apparent anymore, however, the thoughtful expression on his face failed to disappear once he entered, and the tired look on his face revealed that a lot of his thoughts must not have been pleasant. But beyond that, his clothes appeared damp beside his cloak, and he smelled of a river in autumn. He ignored their stares as he took a near table and sighed silently. They looked on in a bit of puzzlement as he did not address them, reclining back in his seat to rest a bit.
"So how was your walk?" Edlund asked him. "Got enough sunshine? Seen a lot of pretty buildings and such? Perhaps got a compliment ort two for your wardrobe?"
"I'm okay for now," Lyse said flatly. "Yes, okay is the way to put it. Took a dive in a well, that was fun for the moment."
"A well?" Elena raised a brow.
"That explains the mysterious odor," Gray agreed. "And I'm not curious enough to ask why I guess. Otherwise, I might start thinking you mad."
"Mad?" Lyse looked over to them all for once. "Well I might be dazing but I haven't lost any eggs as of late now. You know what, we should go get drinks."
"Got my drinks right here, thank you," Gray patted the top of his full cup. "Not feeling thirsty anyway. Besides, I heard what had happened last time someone had consumed alcohol. We don't want to have to carry someone out on a stretcher now would we?"
"At the very least we should get to an inn of sorts," Lyse told them. "At least the lot of you. It'll be nice to have a warm meal. But I'll be sleeping here. I'm not leaving my mother alone for an instant."
"If you're not leaving, I'm not either," Edlund scoffed at him. "Especially if you're planning on jumping down any more wells into the future."
"Besides, we still have to talk to the other knights, remember?" Elena told him.
Edlund turned just in time, immediately stiffening his stance and standing up straight at the sight of two knights walking down the street towards them. It may have been a habit of sorts, but he felt the need to look more imposing than before. The guards stood to either side to allow them in, a man and a woman bearing the crest of Koraki on their breastplate. As soon as they stepped foot in the room, all of them were on their feet. They both looked equally threatening at a glance. They were siblings, the women younger than the man, but a piercing glance not at all lessened by that youth. They scanned the room once with dark eyes till they landed on Lyse, who raised his chin a bit in response. Their dark hair was both swooped in a ponytail. The man held a claymore in his off-hand, the blade still sheathed. He seemed as if he was ready for a fight right then and now as if he saw them all as threats. His larger frame nearly blocked the door's frame entirely.
"Hello," the woman said, little care place into her voice, but an icy point between each word. "I suppose you are all the ones who arrived with this ruckus this morning?"
"Yes, we are," Lyse decided then that he should be the one talking. Everyone shared a bit of gratitude towards that. However, Lyse felt as if he was put immediately under inspection by the two. They stepped in the center of therm all, their back to Edlund. Their pitch-black coat swept away shadow, as light filtered back into the room.
"We arrived this morning, nearly at dawn," Lyse went on. "Chased by several men. One of us was critically injured, so we came here immediately."
They had no trouble believing those words. "Yes, we saw the bodies. More like rotting corpses than actual humans. We sent scouts out to the outposts to see what they know."
"They are dead." Lyse told them.
That made both of their brows furrow. This time, the brother spoke. "Dead? Are you telling me that those three killed several knights?"
"We came upon the outpost in the dead of night," Lyse began. "We saw the outpost empty, and their horses dead. We sent someone to check and confirm the other nearby outpost was also empty. From what we gathered, they hit fast and hard using stealth techniques to achieve their ends. They hid in the trees and prepared to ambush. We were lucky to make it here before any more lives were lost."
"All of them dead?" the female knight nearly whispered. "Are we supposed to believe this tail? There is no way that three of these people were able to kill nearly a dozen knights like that?"
"What reason would there be to lie?"Lyse almost growled at her. "We nearly lost one of our own. And I'm sure the guards at the front gates can corroborate what was witnessed outside your own gates. We are also knights, and have no reason to withdraw any information."
Still, their eyes narrowed, and she did another, longer scan across each of their faces. Lyse's face was stone, feeling her gaze trying to crack it. He was uncertain what those scouts will find once they reached the thicket. Perhaps a bizarre scene of trees bent and twirled and mishappened like strings of clay, and a man encased in a ball of wood with black wings. That was something they may or may no find out on their own and didn't really concern them at the moment. Besides, it was very likely that hooded man had long escaped into the night. The knights in all had very little or small questions to ask them. They showed his sleeping mother in the bed and told them that they were traveling to Tigri for an assignment there. Again, Lyse kept the conversation and did his best to steer them away from who sent them in the first place. He doesn't need to involve Novia or the king in their sharp lies. The knights seemed very aggressive when they first arrived, trying to plow their words into them and force out words. However, as soon as they figured that they were not giving an inch, they began to talk on even footing. Lyse had no doubt that they were veterans. It was a bit unusual to talk to them as equals, akin to talking to Gabbes in the same way. It had not crossed his mind that he, Edlund, and Gabbes, along with every other knight in the kingdom was on an equal standing of rank. and the conversation could have been much different if they were still squires under Gabbes.
Lyse felt it important to not let these facts get too close to his heart. He relayed the tales and accounts of knights who delved into the power to commit insidious deeds. To use power not to help someone weaker than you, and just to satisfy yourself is something the outland kingdoms are notorious for. Everyone above the other on the social ladder is meant to serve everyone on that ladder equally. It was comforting to know that he can help even more now, and is. Perhaps because he has taken the pendant, the probable source of that evil energy that permeated the well, he has saved a lot of lives.
"Alright then," The older brother sighed, turning and walking towards the door. "I guess that will be all then. If you need any further assistance, then the Knight's quarters are opened to you instead of an inn. Just don't cause any more trouble, or whoever sent you will regret it."
"Also, stay away from the well in the center of town," the sister told them. "The thing is cursed. Another pour soul was devoured by it not long ago."
"I'll take your word on it?" Lyse gave a nervous chuckle, hoping that he won't be recognized as that poor soul. They left now without a second look back. The guards seemed a bit uneven in their steps as they resumed their position. Lyse sighed as they merged into the crowd, most of them making a small birth around him. Lyse let out a small sigh. At the very least, they don't have to worry about interference from the Knights for now. However, when he turned towards the others, they had an array of skeptical and sarcastic expressions.
"So a cursed well?" Edlund asked coyly. "Funny you forgot to mention that."
Lyse smiled. "Let's get some drinks."
(X)
The outpost was silent. What once was a beacon across the dangerous plains of Koraki and Liontari has become a desolate entity of darkness. It was very clear, on the first inspection, that something very wrong and very disturbing happened here. The thicket of trees that had barely touched the cold wins of autumn had turned bare, the leaves to mere grey cracked ash, and the trees decayed husks. The stench of death lingered the air, as everything and anything that could be considered alive laid on the ground. One would mistake this the work of necromancers in their magic, or some dark entity that had escaped the bowels of hell. But it felt like neither of those things and both. It was just death, unequivocally and utter death that saturated the ground, the air, and the very sun that dimmed as the knights drew closer.
It was unclear what they expected to find here. The bodies brought to the mortician were unlike anything anyone had seen. They seemed to be as if corpses were able to walk again, sustaining massive amounts of damage and still moving, according to the sages who flew them in. Even with one half a body, it crawled still and fought with a vigor unnatural. While it was possible for a knight to sustain similar injuries and survive, such anecdotes were so far and few between. They were thankful they could only dread what fighting one in full health would have been like, and what hell the fallen knights must have gone through. Those very knights, hanging from the limbs of dead trees. Bound at the heels, unclothed and skinned. The bodies were hidden deep in the thicket, but it was clear it was a quick message to whoever comes across them. Not even flies dared to circle the fresh corpses, leaving the blood to coagulate on the ground. But this did was not what caught their attention initially. Dead center of all of this destruction, trees laid unrooted and shells of rot. A ball of this word sat in it's warped confusion, suspended in the air, and not as rotten as the other. There were still signs of life here and there, but ever second there was the crack of branches falling from the trunks.
"What happened here?" one of the scouts asked aloud, walking towards the ball.
"Seems the work of mages, or perhaps a dryad," the other said. "There was no sign that the bodies taken in were mages, were there?"
The other scout shook his head. "Not to my knowledge. None of the tattoos, no tomes, or grimoires or cards. Perhaps they also faced a mage out here. But this far from Torlak? That makes no sense."
The scout stopped several paces away from the ball. High in the sky, the cawing of crows pounded the air. He could not explain it, but he got a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, like the first time looking down from a great height. And in the back of his mind, he thought he heard whispering. The motions of the crows above suddenly became unnatural. Crossing midair, it could be mistaken that something was attacking them, but none did. Then, it happened.
Crack!
They whirled back around to the mass of wood still suspended. But now, there were a few bent at awkward angles where this impact happened. The crows above scattered in an instant, disappearing from view. The two took a few steps away from the ball now. A moment glance shared an uncertainty to run, or to stay and fight whatever abomination came out. And for a moment, the struggle was tied. But they were given no choice, as another, more powerful impact nearly rattled the ground with its impact. They felt goosebumps form on their skin and their lungs sting from the sudden frost in the air. They drew swords, but little comfort came from them in hand. The third impact was nearly silent. There was only the movement of a shadow slipping through the cracks of his prison A curved blade gleamed in the early sun as it raked across the two men in one motion. Their blood spattered and hit ground beneath them, as Thanatos flapped on silent wings, and their souls ripped from their carcasses
Thanatos crashed onto his feet, the scythe clattering from his hands as he seethed in pain. It has been a long time. A long time since he last fought a member of Theurgy. He remembers a bit more, now. It was indeed her. It was she who took his mind away from him, and made it a struggle to even think. Why he no longer remembers the life that he once had, the promise that Talin had once made. That pendant, touched by a corrupt power, made him this. And the simple knowledge of that fact pounded into his psyche far worse than any before. The voice of the spirit that dwells within no longer wasted its words on just whispers, but shouts. The world was simply unreal, his movements became unreal. His howls caused the ground to shake under its wake. A howl that could be heard in any heart. The scythe immediately vanished, melting into the darkness from which it was summoned, and the wings too disappeared. He was left in a sprawl of madness, no man could dare to bear. And if this did continue, whatever remained of this mind would be destroyed, and the true essence of Thanatos could be released.
But he couldn't let that happen. In the infinite sea of chaos, he held onto what tiny strand of sanity to work the powers gifted to him by the spirit. That strand nearly snapped, but it was enough. The shadows enveloped him, and he found himself in the cold dampness. Away from the light. Away from thralls of life. The familiar. The cold chambers that became his prison once before. To contain his madness. That still was his prison. But the wails of pain did not cease. It only worsened, till the chambers were opened once more. There was little sense left in the world. The last thing he could do was lash out. As soon as a face was seen, his hand was lounging at its throat. The face of a stunned Dankana grew quickly slack as his body rotted in just seconds into a pile of ash on the floor. Dankana drew their blades, but none moved an inch recognizing what laid upon the floor. Thanatos did nothing as well, only shouting and wailing into the jagged halls.
"Forgive me," he said. "Forgive my curse father. Say they are so. A curse that plagues me. May their bodies be saved, and the waves that wish them fairer passing make them clean of this sin. Those dark shores. Oh, those dark shores come to us. It draws me with lies. Lies. Lies Lies Lies."
The wails grew louder and louder. The presence that was Thanatos was like a bell being rung directly into their heads. Each of the Makhai that had come to this sudden screeching found themselves on the floor, silently convulsing as death sung through their spirits. A hand came to try and comfort Thanatos, but again, he struck out with the hand of death, intent on killing But instead of the weakness of mortal flesh, it struck hard metal. A gloved hand grabbed him by his shoulders to lift him up. And in the darkness of a helmet, heated red eyes stared down Thanatos.
"Calm yourself," Ares warned him. "What happened? Have you truly gone insane now?"
"The dark shores," he continued, pleading to Ares. "Take away the dark shores. Take away the curse."
"I thought I heard whimpering," Hermes sailed in, looking almost sadly upon the stumbling mess, but hid it in his voice. "And I thought he'd be the most mentally stable to go out and solve whatever issue the prime Noctus was having. But here he is babbling nonsense."
"Where could this have come from?" Ares asked. "He had no such infliction before. Could the godslayers have done this to him?"
Down the hall came Atalanta, who strolled past the Dankana who was desperately trying to crawl away from the scene. She did not have her weapon but dressed in much simpler clothes than before. One could be mistaken she just crawled out of her chambers. But he still had that youthful presence that never waned, and concerned eyes looked upon Thanatos, who was slowly devolving into just mindless babbling.
"Athena," Hermes said. "It appears that our compatriot has gone mad. Happened much sooner than I anticipated, but it certainly caused a stir."
She leaned down to look Thanatos in the eyes, the empty sockets of where eyes could once have been. "The last time he was active, one of the godslayers cursed him with madness. It made him a danger to Talin then, so we tried to give him sanity by erasing his memories. However, we did not know which of the godslayers had done it, nor what could trigger it. It was a risk sending him out, and it could be quite disastrous allowing him to continue in this state."
"So this is the fault of the Prime Noctus, eh?" It was meant to be a slight, but offhanded. However, the dangerous stare that crossed Atalanta's face for just a moment there, chilled Hermes into a submissive scowl. "I meant no ill by her of course."
"She was not as strong as she is now," she told him. "She can give him sanity once more to keep him useful, perhaps even permanently. But he will be unusable into it concludes. We will have to let the godslayer come to us then, I suppose. Without our trackers, which are surely dead, we can not follow their movements."
"But we have what they want," Ares told her. "In the long run, there is little to worry about. They may run a bit longer like chickens till they waddle into the butchery."
Atalanta nodded at that. "I will consult with the Prime Noctus on this matter more. Until then, take no action. No one shall approach that godslayer till we are certain that there are permanent means to protect your minds."
"Of course," Hermes yawned. "If you don't mind, I have a lyre to tune, so leave me in peace. If he's going to be kicking and screaming the entire time, at least take him somewhere dark. It really is tragic what we can devolve into, no?"
"Only if you are uncareful," Atalanta lifted the babbling Thanatos onto her back. "Talin is built on being careful. We always have the upper hand. All we must do is lie and wait."
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