GREY

The Emissary Of Darkness

Ryssera sipped her mead slowly in the dark corner of the tavern. She observed the activities of men quietly and planned her next move. The physical plane had changed a lot after her imprisonment. Humans no longer pursued any goal or sense of purpose. They were weak and content with satisfying their flesh. Ryssera detested them. Her kindred perished in the Pit everyday while these useless lifeforms wasted the potential of the physical plane. She had been warned not to attract attention when it could be helped, so her bloodlust could wait.

Ryssera needed contacts. Her first objective was to request aid from the Witch Empress. An informant had told her that Feonna would not be easy to see. Rather, the witch chose to be seen by whom she wanted and when she wanted. But there was good news too. Feonna could help her as long as she was willing to pay the prize, but the informant had warned her that the Witch Empress’s bargains were lopsided. She’d have to accept any terms if it helped her free the other four.

It was said that Feonna was the first witch to possess holy and dark magic, though she served neither. Her goal was unclear, but if she could be persuaded to join the cause, it’d be easy to locate the souls that were required to break the seal. The informant had made it clear that no one could fight the Witch Empress and survive, so Ryssera needed to play careful. She was the only hope for opening the Pit and she’d nullify the chances of doing so if she challenged a being more powerful than herself. A part of her wanted to deny that someone could best her, but that pride was the sole reason why they got sealed in the first place.

A group of armored knights entered the tavern. A tall man with blonde hair led them to where Ryssera sat. Swords were drawn. The man made a formal knight salute before addressing Ryssera.

“I am Sir Grant, knight of the First Order. Our kingdom does not take lightly users of dark arts. The Holy Knights eliminate evil forces upon sight, but our Empress is lenient. By the decree of Empress Feonna, I order you to leave this land immediately. Any resistance will be met with sudden death.”

Ryssera lifted her head, surprised by the young man’s insolence. The world had already forgotten about her. They had the audacity to address her like a low life. Hearing the knight’s words stabbed at her pride, yet there was nothing she could do.

“I seek to see your Empress,” Ryssera said, lifting her head to look at the knight. “Take me to her, and I will forget your transgression.”

The tavern became quiet as a graveyard. Ryssera stood, revealing her tall and intimidating stature. Sir Grant took a step back, feeling the unseen energy that emanated from the strange woman. He was equipped with a holy crystal to ward off evil magic, but if the woman knew how to manipulate souls, all their defenses would be useless.

Grant lifted his sword and pointed it at the woman’s throat. His knights primed crossbows and waited.

“I will not ask you again,” Grant said.

Ryssera wielded a power that had been granted directly from the Fallen. The only beings who could challenge her were those of the celestial and death plane. Humans were just puppets, no matter how strong they were. Ryssera evoked one of her primal spells, e*****e. To use it, she exuded her will in the form of a sweet scent. Her will severed the connection between body and soul, and anyone who got to inhale that will lost their life instantly. Subsequently, she contracted the separated souls that very moment, returning them to their bodies before the harbingers came to reap them. Thus everyone who breathed her will became her slave.

The air became sweet and nauseous. Grant realized what had happened a moment too late. He could not move a muscle, and neither could his men. His mind clouded over. He felt confused. He did not know the reason why he had visited the tavern. Wasn’t he supposed to report to the garrison commander with the information about his infiltration in Gethor?

“You serve me now,” a voice said in his head.

A tall woman hidden beneath a cowl stood before him. He did not know her, yet there was a part of him that did. His soldiers looked mystified. Something was wrong, but he could not place his finger on it.

“I want to see Empress Feonna. You will take me to her.”

“I…” Grant found himself stammering, “I cannot enter the citadel at will.”

The woman walked forward and pressed her thumb against his chin.

“But you know someone who can.”

Slash stared distantly in the crackling flames, her mind drifting towards the last moments of her life. Her hands had been severed and she had drowned in the Vespers, yet here she was, alive and complete. She stared over at Sight, who sat beside Grey as if everything was alright. s***h had witnessed Grey perform an unholy ritual that brought back Slight to life from a skull and a couple of bones. She wanted nothing to do with Grey, or with Sight, but she was too terrified to say it. Did ghosts have emotions?

No one had spoken after Grey’s harbinger friend left. Grey was making no attempt to explain anything either. s***h wondered if Grey was an immortal devil. Just thinking of Sight’s resurrection made her skin crawl.

“Grey,” she summoned the gut to break the silence. “What are you?”

It took a moment for Grey to respond. He looked at s***h directly, boring into her with his cold, emotionless eyes.

“I am something that you cannot comprehend,” Grey said.

“Stop spitting those ridiculous riddles!” s***h fumed. “Why am I here? Why… am I alive?”

“Thalia,” Sight started.

“Stop calling me that!” s***h yelled. “Are you fine with… whatever this is? We were dead for crying out loud. He was dead. You should ask questions, not sit by and be content with being his puppet.”

Sight looked down, unable to say anything. s***h was right. Ever since Grey saved her, Sight had known Grey as the kind old man who protected the weak. Other than that, he remained a mystery. A part of her did not even want to know what Grey was.

“You remember the promise I made you on our first quest?” Grey asked.

Slash recalled. Grey had taken them to Aegia. There had been dark magic users who stole graveyard corpses to reanimate them to do their bidding. The necromancers did not stop there. They had started to murder innocent infernals so they could use their bodies. That day, they had saved a dozen souls after slaughtering the necromancers. After returning the children to their families, Grey had asked:

“Do you wish to have a normal life, like them?”

“Normal sucks,” s***h had answered. “You end up being experimented on like those poor weaklings.”

“It is all I ever wanted,” Sight had said. “I don’t wish to hurt people, or see anyone getting hurt. But… if I get to save lives doing this, I will gladly forfeit my chance of having a normal life.”

“It will not be long until I find what I seek,” Grey had spoken. “You and I will part ways. I will make certain that you will live a good, natural life afterwards. It’s the least that I’ll be able to do for you.”

It made no sense now. They had already died. They would never have anything normal.

“Tell us, Grey,” s***h said. “How do you intent to make good on your word?”

“You’ve always displayed your passion for the sword. Since you’ll likely be captured upon sight, it is unwise to pursue your dream here. There is a country beyond Gethor. It is called Lilei. It trains assassins and knights for many kingdoms, and I know someone there who owes me a favor. Some young trainees from the citadel will leave for Lilei by river two days from now. I’ll arrange for your passage.”

Slash felt her heart pounding faster against her chest. It was a fear that was mixed with excitement. Honing her skills further was a dream come true. Maybe she was dead, or a ghost, but she still felt her emotions. If she could go back to live among normal people…

“And as of you, Sight,” Grey went on, “I know you’ve always wanted to be a servant of the Light. Egnir is at war with Gethor, as you know. Healing priestesses are few, and those with the sight are just but a handful. There is a temple south-west of the citadel. It takes care of soldiers who can no longer serve, people born with defects, and there even infernals are welcome. We saved the High Priestess’ grandchild when we faced the night-hunters. She’ll be more than happy to take you in.”

Sight hesitated. She did not know what she wanted. All she had ever known was following Grey. She realized how the old man had dulled her senses. People were supposed to be adventurous, loving and caring, but Grey was just… boring. Over the years Sight had slowly forgotten how to smile thanks to him, and though s***h often made puny remarks and laughed a lot, she no longer found anything funny. Could she fit in elsewhere, apart from Grey’s side?

“You haven’t answered me yet,” s***h said quietly. “And until I know what you are, I want nothing to do with you, or with Sight.”

Slash feared she had taken things too far. Grey could kill her in an instant, that much she knew. That was one thing that made him so dangerous. His power was mysterious.

“I…I agree with Thalia,” Sight said hesitantly, to which Grey did not react. The old man poked the fire with a stick and said nothing. Then he sighed.

“If that’s what you wish, I will tell you what I am.”