GREY

The Hunt Begins

The price of retaining conscience as a death harbinger was the emotion that came with it. Rather than being deprived of them, Grey actively ignored them. That feat was not always easy. Sometimes he felt strong waves of despair, anger, and sometimes — though rare — he experienced joy. Emotions were a distraction to his goals, and to counter them, Grey had resorted to using a distasteful portion from the plane of the damned.

The damned plane was an intermediate existence between the Pit and the living plane. The beings of that plane regarded the stoneheart portion as a recreational drug. It dulled emotions to the point where the consumer felt nothing but their own sentience. Harbingers had no business whatsoever in the damned plane, but Grey was an exception.

When Grey was resurrected six decades prior, his essence had attracted a succuba witch from the damned plane. Succubas were a humanoid race of tempters and temptresses who obtained their power from sleeping with their victims. The act drained all desirable traits and not many victims survived the ordeal.

The goal of succubas was obtaining as much power as they could get, either by sleeping with many vessels of power, or bedding a single powerful being. Pearl had just come to age and she had been initiated as a harvester when she encountered Grey. The amount of power he possessed was irresistible. She wanted him to be her first. Grey had played along. He had allowed Pearl to drag him to the damned plane under the illusion that she wanted him to know her family. Pearl’s parents had been impressed, and the power they witnessed from Pearl’s first victim would be enough to elevate them up the ranks. No, not just up the ranks. They would be on the very top of the succuba world.

In the end, Pearl had regretted dreaming that big. Not only had she failed miserably, she had ended up endangering her family. The death harbinger had spared them under one condition: Pearl would work for him for as long as she existed. Grey would summon her at will with a special, plane-splicing glyph that was directly implanted in her soul. She would appear and bid his command without asking any questions.

All Pearl had done for the old man was deliver the stoneheart portion. He had not used her charms to seduce men or women of the living plane. After sixty years, she was yet to have her first. For that reason, she lacked any power besides her natural charms. Her will was strong, for she patiently waited for Grey to falter, then all his power would be hers.

Grey stood impatiently by the riverbank. He was sad and angry. He had not felt these emotions in the past three decades. Pearl was late. Grey thought of killing one of her younger siblings to show her that he did not humor inconvenience.

The urge to kill was one of the primal instincts that were difficult to control. It would tip his scales to the evil side, which was against everything a harbinger stood against. On the contrary, the urge to help was weak and easy to suppress because, unlike evil intent, the human soul had no desire to aid any other than itself. At least that was how Grey perceived it. Even after all the deaths and trials, deep down, his core was still a human.

In the dimness of dusk, a small whirlpool formed amidst the river. From it, a pinkish hue glowed to life. A head emerged, then a neck, shoulders, and the rest of the body. The portal closed and a young voluptuous woman stood on the waters, defying the laws of nature. Nothing clothed her pearly skin, but her long red hair covered her breasts and womanhood. Grey smelled her seductive musk from the distance. It overwhelmed weaker senses, but lust was one of the battles that he had faced in the process of being a harbinger. It nearly cost him a decade before he became immune to it, but the trial was worth it.

“You are late,” Grey said flatly.

The young woman walked forward and stepped on the bank with the elegance of a queen. She offered Grey a purple succuba gaze, attempting to penetrate his shell. Grey did not react. The woman inclined her head.

“Forgive me, Master Grey.”

“The portion,” Grey said.

Pearl retrieved five long vials from the locks of her hair.

“This is all I could get for now. I will procure more upon my return.”

Grey took the vials quickly and chugged one down right away.

“Good. You can leave.”

Pearl took a closer look at Grey. He looked much older than she remembered. Harbingers were immune to time, so why had Grey chosen to age? The old man was not impassive. He looked more haggard, and it was evident that something had drained a good amount of his power. Had Grey fallen for another succuba?

“What happened?” Pearl asked, risking her life by daring such a question. “You don’t look well.”

She went a step further and tried to touch his wrinkled face, but the old man raised his hand.

“I have not slept with the likes of your kindred, if that is what you think,” Grey said, surprising Pearl by smiling.

Something had truly upset the harbinger’s emotions. Pearl flushed. Were her thoughts so obvious? Grey waved her away in dismissal. He had obtained what he wanted and her presence in the living plane served no further purpose.

But something terrible awaited her in the damned plane. She could not go back to face it without help.

“Master Grey, I need your help,” she dared. “There is…”

“No,” Grey said firmly.

“My family will be in danger…”

“I don’t care,” Grey said without an ounce of empathy. “You serve me, not the other way round. Besides, I no longer have any need of you. You are free now, but if I see you again, I will kill you.”

Pearl’s heart broke. Grey had been her last strand of hope. She hated herself for being so powerless, for depending on others to tie her loose ends. She should have been content with harvesting strength from lesser men. By now, that power could have amounted to something. It was pointless to try and sway Grey’s mind. If anything, the old man had gotten grumpier with age. She bowed her head and retreated to the damned plane, her departure leaving some pinkish residues of light on the beach where Grey stood.

“How long have you been watching?” Grey spoke to himself.

A mass of darkness writhed into being behind him, taking the form of a young woman.

“That… that portion will corrupt Grey,” Liara said quietly.

“And that’s for me to worry about,” Grey said. “I suppose you did not come to lecture me about the difference between good and bad?”

“Liara found Ryssera in the village near the citadel. She contracts souls faster than Liara’s will can reap them from the living plane. The Sentient said Grey would take care of her.”

“You know where this Ryssera is now?”

“Liara will take you there.”

Harbingers wove gates to go anywhere within their scope. They used death trace to portal wherever they desired, given their existence there was not sanctioned by either unholy magic or celestial law. It took but a blink for Liara to channel them to the village where Ryssera was supposed to be.

The place was peaceful and quiet. Many people had already fallen asleep, oblivious to forces that walked in their midst. Liara walked towards an outskirt inn and stopped by the entrance.

“Liara is forbidden to go near people in this form. Liara already used the charm today to go swimming. Ryssera should be in there.”

With that, Liara took her leave. Grey entered the inn. There weren’t many patrons inside, and those who were conscious were either distracted by ale or women. The place looked old. The paint on the walls was starting to peel off and some of the pillars had cracked. A lot of the furniture had been broken and mended several times, testament to countless drunken brawls. A portly man in a brown apron stood behind the counter, drying mugs and sweeping an attentive gaze all over the inn. There were a few armored knights, Grey noticed. Some ate, some drank, and some dozed off by the heath with their ale mugs in hand.

What caught Grey’s eye was a solitary figure who sat alone at one of the tables. His instinct told him that the figure was his target. Assuming he was just a beggar, none of the patrons took notice of him. He walked towards the figure, who was equally ignorant of his presence.

“Are you Ryssera?” Grey asked upon reaching the table.

The cowled figure lifted its head, but its face remained hidden.

“Have you come to reap me, harbinger?” a female voice asked, its tone intimidating. “If so, I am afraid I will have to politely refuse.”

Grey offered a dry chuckle. “That is not your decision to make.”

In an instant, Grey drew his blade and slashed across the woman’s neck. She did not move, and neither did the blade make contact with any part of her. She laughed, loud enough to startle other patrons.

“A sword?” Ryssera mocked. “I thought the Sentient knew better than to send his lackey to assassinate me with an earthen weapon.”

The woman stood, towering an entire foot above Grey. A few knights attacked him, but he exerted his will upon them, slitting their throats the instant they moved. Much to his surprise, the men did not stay down for long. They twitched, rose again and made another attempt to attack. All the women and patrons who were half-sober had already bolted by then.

“Whoever you are, take your fight outside,” the innkeeper said, walking towards where Ryssera and Grey stood. His voice was filled with anger. “I don’t care if you are the holy knights of…”

The man’s head burst from his neck, and the corpse lurched, crashing into an empty table.

“He talked too much,” Ryssera said. She turned her gaze towards Grey. “Now, tell me, what type of harbinger are you?”

Grey thought of the Sentient’s warning. Any form of attack on Ryssera would become her weapon. His entire plan had been to kill her until she ran out of the essence to resurrect. While using death essence made his strength inexhaustible, the downside of using it was giving the damned witch a free upgrade. He had one more weapon in his arsenal, one that he was so afraid to use because of the destruction that it could cause.