Smoldering metal shattered in my mouth as I clenched my jaw. My knees went numb from the pain of fire eating away at my face, almost buckling as I stumbled back.  

I blinked hard, scrambling back, bracing for another attack, pressing Filan even more tightly against my chest—but the follow up never came.

Spitting out the molten shrapnel, I felt my flesh reknit, extinguishing the fire as skin rapidly regenerated. My eyes opened, glistening with moisture, seeing the world from a new—yet identical—perspective. 

Ylrenci sat on the ground, staring up at me as if mesmerized. Her blood red eyes wide, unblinking. “…Renith?” she mumbled, glancing about confused; her haunted eyes showing how much she was questioning reality. She rubbed her temples, looking around me and not quite at me. “You’re not Spectre but…but, by Sualar’s Might, what are you?”

I frowned at the unconstrained awe in her voice, sending a ripple of pain across my tender facial tissue. She stared long as she slowly stood, raising a hand into empty misty air reverently. “You’re of Him, aren’t you? How else would your Radiance be so vast—splintered yet melting into itself… God of gods, it's iridescent!” Her eyes finally met mine. Now there was fear in her voice. “What are you?”

‘She can see something in me that I don’t know about,’  I thought, sighing. Fortunately, whatever she was seeing was enough to knock her out of her frenzy. Filan still wailed in my arms, the side of his face was pink from the fire's scalding touch. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it could’ve been, but I couldn’t help but feel a bitter taste in my mouth. This child was now under my name. I swore it. “What are you on about, woman?”

Ylrenci shrunk back at the harsh tone, then sniffed. She fished something out of her pocket, the container storing the black stuff she snorted so often. Her eyes drained of color soon after she took a whiff of the powder, and so did her hair, becoming an inky black. 

“You…” she let her gaze wonder, noticing the onlookers, then Darson’s corpse. The mist had thinned considerably, lingering gently only to allow final twilight to illuminate the aftermath. “It seems you’ve stirred quite a ruckus… Where is Astre?”

I pointed at the girl lying face down in the dirt with my chin, gingerly shifting Filan in my arms so as to not irritate his burn. “She’s alive. Darson…tried to kill her but I managed to get her out of the way before he could end her life.”

“Sounds about right,” Ylrenci said knowingly, moving to the unconscious girl, but froze as I grabbed her shoulders. She looked into my eyes, undaunted. Where did that fear go..? A shadow of worry whirled deep within those jet-black eyes, hidden but not gone.

“Take Fil, too.” I handed her the baby, turning to the crowd. Without the mist to bring it to the surface, their ravenous hatred seemed to have sunk back into the bottom of their souls. They murmured among each other, looking a bit confused, expressions showing a complex mixture of emotions. 

Still, though no longer smoldering brightly on the surface, their hatred simmered deep within. 

“Hear me,” I said softly, letting the breeze carry my words. The people paused, dozens of eyes turning toward my direction. “I said I would safeguard your livelihoods—and this is an oath I will adhere to. But know it will mean smiting your gods.”

 

Behind me, I heard Astrette groan in pain as she stirred awake. The village folk seemed conflicted, even offended by my proclamation. They exchanged doubtful looks. Yes, they’re gods left them to abominations, but there was reason for that, wasn’t there? their gazes seemed to say.

A wizen man in the crowd snorted, spitting. “Bah! Yer just a man. Powerful, yes, but still just a man.” He turned, using his cane to limp away. “Akrit, the power you use stems from His Father’s soul.”

The rest seemed to share that same sentiment, nodding as the old man retreated. “Old Tanaf’s right!” a younger man yelled, shuffling from on foot to the other, visibly uncomfortable. “And Karnden already slew Sualar. God is dead. That’s how he shifted his existence to the Final Planar, ain’t it? It is Recorded clearly.”

“Yeah, yeah. So what ‘God’ can ya be of?” another lanky man added. He licked his chapped lips, rubbing his hands together. His eyes drifted skyward, scrutinizing. “Akrit ba Lile! It don’t even matter, Karnden is divine—of Sualar. Like it or not, his will is beyond mortals like us.  It is not our place to question.”

“Be that as it may,” I said, looking up at the wisps of black curling in the sky, not sure how much of what the men said held true or even what some parts of their speeches meant. But it didn’t matter, the seed was sown. Now I just need to water it.

“As the manifestation of Yemil’s Ethos—I’ve been affected by Her divine affection for all. And, through my intervention, soon will the lot of you will understand this.” I turned to leave. “There will be signs of your god’s fall. At that time, be ready for your salvation.”

I left the crowd to whisper amongst themselves, regarding Darson’s corpse one last time. Why hadn’t I gained any experience points from killing him? Sighing, I shook my head. ‘Perhaps that’s a good thing.’

A burly man walked toward the corpse, kicking it gently. The man—Abran—looked to the sky, then toward me and nodded firmly in gratitude. He lingered for a moment before walking away, his gait relaxed.

Akrit claimed the last of twilight. It was an abrupt change from light to darkness, like throwing a bucket of black ink on a blank sheet of paper. The hairs on my forearm perked. I looked up at the miasmic nimbus, it writhed and shifted as a perpetual gloom—making the very air heavier, more harsh.  

Perhaps because of my Soulsparking, I could sense the inherent wrongness to the thing more clearly. It shouldn’t be inhabiting the night sky, roiling—stealing the wind’s breath—as if alive. The cloud seemed to be an abhorrent abomination of nature itself.

“No wonder they shrink in its presence,” I mumbled, melding into darkness, trailing after Astrette and Ylrenci’s distant silhouettes. 

When I reached them, we walked in grim silence until the house. I strutted past the invalid Evio, sitting down at the dinner table, lacing my fingers together on top of the hardwood table. “Can you heal Filan without…runes?”

“Obviously. What do you take me for?” Ylrenci said flatly, entering her quarters. Though her quick, stiff gait betrayed her calm facade.

Astrette whimpered gruffly, plopping down on the chair opposite mine. She heaved a defeated sigh and stared up at the ceiling blankly. “What is going on? I…” her brows furrowed, then she dawned an impassive expression.

I tapped a finger against the table contemplatively. How should I go about this situation? They were hiding secrets—powerful secrets that allowed them to shoot nets of vibrant electricity—and also hid a morbid hatred hidden within; one that consumed them so easily and almost led to my death. They were both a liability and a resource. My heart twisted in on itself, thrashing against my lungs. ‘Should I just torture and devour them..?’

The corners of my eyes fell placid…

“Ashen lil’ bastard!” Ylrenci said triumphantly, stomping out of her room with a sleepy Filan. She smirked, practically shoving the baby into my arms.  “Finally got him to sleep.”

‘You mean sedated him?’ I thought. The baby’s skin glistened with a smooth, floral salve. He threw chubby fists through the air, as if he was fighting the urge to nap. His eyes puffy, exhausted. 

“What’re planning to with that kid? After…” Ylrenci shivered, swallowing hard. She ran her fingers through springy black hair. “Killing his family and painting his father as a monster?”

“Excuse me?” Astrette blurted, eyes widening. 

I let Filan’s tiny hand wrap around my index, then looked up to meet her earnest gaze. She'd deduced that much? Scary. “I’ll raise him as my right hand.”

She raised a brow sharply. “And what does that entail?”

“He’ll kill for me. Fight for me. Bind and tear my enemies as I see fit,” I said simply, the baby’s soft grip tightening and loosening as he fidgeted gently in his sedated slumber. “In return, as an extension of my will, his rewards will be tallied in kingdoms and immense power... He’ll be my Apostle.”

Astrette blinked stupidly, looking at her master. “…You botched his surgery, didn’t you? He sounds absolutely insane!” she said, slowly pointing a trembling finger in my direction. “God of gods, and I thought the things he said before were disturbing… no perhaps they were symptoms of a greater madness?”

That got my lips to rise into an amused grin.

“Aren’t all humans insane—or at least delusional—to a certain degree?” I asked, gently pinching Filan’s cheek. He stirred, opening his eyes for a brief moment before falling back to sleep. “Though it is worth mentioning, I have a nasty tendency to manifest my mad ravings into a reality.”

She sighed, glancing back worriedly at her master. 

Ylrenci just threw her hands up in a resigned manner, moving to the kitchen. “You don’t have memory loss,” she assessed, the clinking and rattling of cutlery and dishes ringing out. “Neither are you a Hunter. It was all a ruse! I had an inkling of a suspicion…” she exited the room, a foggy mug in her hands. “But… I thought I was being paranoid. No redhair? Must be a dimblood.”

I looked to her. She stared back confidently, chin raised as she pulled on her drink. There was only one way to deal with this woman without needless cruelty. With honesty. “Hear me.” I let out a breath. “Who are you two, really? You talk differently from the common folk… You know arcane arts—not just your healing hands, but the…electrical discharge.”

Astrette’s expression hardened, and she shuffled in her seat. On her left, Ylrenci simply kept drinking her tea. She sighed, smiling. “We’re not from this kingdom. And our circumstances are very unfortunate but aren’t uncommon…” her smile fell. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to suffer through it. The Glyphgear, however, is something I can shed light on.”

Nearby, in the corner of the room, I caught sight of Evio perking up as he listened to our conversation. I almost forgot the boy was standing there, eyes lit up by curiosity. One more potential casualty to worry about. “Well, go on then… I’m listening.”

She rummaged for something on her person, turning pockets inside out, and pulled out a white sphere. The ball was about the size of her fist, etched with archaic symbols that covered most of its surface. “Take it,” she said, rolling the curious shape my way. 

I gently picked up the sphere, goosebumps immediately shot up my arm. The first impression the sphere gave me was the sense of a condensed tempest; a storm trapped but yet eerily calm. It knew its purpose perfectly well—and yearned to fulfill it—but was waiting for  a command in order to lash out… My permission. “How…does it work?”

“Figure it out,” Ylrenci said, pursing her lips and blowing out a small minty cloud. She gestured to the door, then met my eyes calmly. “By my guess…it seems you’re a bit of divinity—” Astrette gasped, opening her mouth as if to object but caught herself “—whether that means you’re an Ancient Desire; a Shard; or a damned Concept.…I haven’t the faintest idea. And, frankly, I don’t care. You will leave my house.”

“I thought you were willing to have a civilized conversation?” I asked, voice growing void.

“No! I said I was willing to shed some light,” she hissed, crinkling her nose in annoyance. Her brows were slick with sweat, and she grew pale. “I did that! Now  leave! You want to understand how it works? Fine. Ask any bored drunkard in a pub. It’s common knowledge..! But I will not be held hostage in my own home, and I will not sit idly while your bloodlust grips at me and mine. Kill us or leave.”

“Oh. I…” I smiled, slowly breaking out into a fit of delighted laughter, letting go of any intent I had on hurting them. “I really, really like you Ylrenci.”

The tension dropped noticeably, making the air warmer. More like home. Ylrenci’s shoulders sagged, her posture finally showing relief. Astrette sighed, breathing in deeply as if only now realizing the shallow breaths she was taking. 

Standing, I gently nodded, strutting into the guest room. “Indeed. I’ve overstayed my welcome, it seems. I’ll be gone by dawnfall.”

“…Fine…” Ylrenci mumbled, surprised by my reaction. She stared dumbly as I left, sipping her tea.

The room was disheveled. Evio left the blankets and sheets he used as a mattress pile on the floor, a dirty heap of fabric that smelled of sweat. I sighed, placing Filan on the bed.

A cool, sticky breeze sighed into the room as I opened the window. I looked into the darkness with empty eyes, heartbeat relaxing then flipping. The violent energy boiling in my veins snuffed instantly. “…I wonder how long it’ll take me...”

My vision faltered, then I felt my right eye pop out of its socket, bouncing with a squelching sound on the floor. Pain echoed down my face. I winced, feeling blood pool in my mouth, tongue burnt. The vision in my left eye swirled, becoming cloudy and settling black around the edges. 

The skin on my cheek was raw and bloody, but was healing slowly, leaving tissue scarred and disfigured.

I grumbled, biting back a curse. “…Shit.”

…Unsuccessfully…