GREY

A New Contract

The creature opened its eyes. A white wall met its vision. It did not know what it was, where it was or why it was there. Its body was reluctant to move, but it found the struggle fascinating. It breathed in some scented air and nurtured it for a second. It felt good to exist. Then it remembered. Visions. Things that it had seen before. Other creatures slaughtering each other. Was that its purpose, to kill?

A figure walked into its abode. It was tall, with long strands of hair and a face that glowed. The figure flashed teeth, and the creature found it liked how that made it feel.

“You’re awake,” the figure spoke, but the creature could not understand what it meant. “My name is Feonna, and you’ll be under my care from now onwards.”

The creature attempted to move its mouth in an effort to reciprocate what the figure had done, but only air came out of its throat. The figure flashed its teeth again.

“Do not worry, my child. I will fix you right away.”

***

Adelaire blinked. The nothingness around him felt familiar. He was not supposed to be here. He had finished his task. He had earned his rest. His body took form, assuming the shape it had been when he first died. Some of the memories returned as he materialized. He did not want them.

“I did what you asked me to,” Adelaire said. “What more do you want from me?”

Rain started falling all around him. The raindrops splashed against nothing and made blue bubbles out of the darkness. The bubbles floated and dilated, then burst to create more light. In an instant, Adelaire was no longer in the darkness. He stood in the Sentient’s hall, the only material place in the void. It was anything but beautiful, made without any aesthetic intent but for the sole purpose to accommodate a Harbinger during an audience with the Sentient. The blue light and black walls made Adelaire sick. He walked towards the Sentient’s presence.

There was a high obsidian throne on the far end of the hall. Numerous blue lights shone on it. On the throne sat an old man, with white hair, white brows, and a white beard. Everything about him was white, even his eyes. His long face reflected knowledge that was beyond comprehension, and his calm demeanor portrayed a composure that had been gathered for uncountable human generations.

“You look discontented,” the Sentient speculated.

“I am,” Adelaire replied. “You told me I’d rest once I eliminated your targets.”

“You forgot one thing,” the Sentient said calmly. “I returned you to the living world with the condition that you’d not die unless your goal was fulfilled. You bound yourself to the living plane when you vowed you’d not rest until every seed of Leistar blood was destroyed. Need I remind you that you not only spared the last descendant, but gave her life as well?”

Adelaire remembered his contract. He had known his choice would have consequences, but he had attempted to cheat death. The Sentient could not be tricked. He knew the price he needed to pay. He was either going back to kill the human princess, or he’d return to live the rest of his days until she died. And if the princess happened to bear children, he’d have to deal with them if he wished to rest.

“I will return and finish my task,” Adelaire relented.

The Sentient looked down at him with cold amusement. They both knew the lie for what it was. Adelaire planned to find another way around his contract. A death harbinger could fight anything, but not even Adelaire, the best of all that the Sentient had contracted since the dawn of time, could breach a contract.

The Sentient stood and walked down the dais of black marble. He moved like a ghost. He looked like one.

“I will contract you once more. If you succeed, I will grant you the privilege to rest without killing the human female.”

Adelaire thought the old man was attempting some kind of humor. He could have laughed if he had emotions. He only remembered what they felt like, and at times he missed them. But emotions clouded judgement. He was better off without them.

“And what might the contract be?”

The Sentient moved past Adelaire and down the hall, clasping his hands behind his back, something he had adopted from the human plane. Adelaire followed, and the hall shimmered out of existence as they walked. A field of wheat materialized under their feet. A fraction of the sun gleamed out of the Northern mountains, its rays casting a lovely rose gold hue over the landscape. A gentle breeze swayed the stalks of wheat to and fro, bringing forth a crisp scent of the sea. Adelaire had forgotten how to cherish mornings. Each time he had woken up for the past six decades was a constant reminder that he had no business in the world of the living.

“What do you see?” the Sentient asked.

There was nothing of significance. Just the wheat field surrounded by trees. Adelaire said as much. The Sentient pointed at his feet. Adelaire noticed that they stood on a black granite surface. The rock was a couple of yards in diameter, cut flat and shaped in the form of a pentagon. Inscriptions were written all over the surface of the stone in a language that Adelaire could not read. Most of them were buried under weeds and brown silt. A thin c***k ran across the rock, and from within the gap pulsed an ominous red glow.

“A broken seal?”

“Correct,” the Sentient answered. “This seal imprisons five emissaries of darkness. One has escaped. Should all of them break lose, they will be responsible for opening the Pit. That will entail the end of humankind.”

“Why should I care?” Adelaire blustered.

“Your precious human is the key to freeing them. By giving away your soul essence, you gave her nature’s aura and the power to break seals. She’ll be hunted down and forced to do what the emissary of darkness desires. Not even the Witch Empress will be able to protect her from what’s coming.”

Adelaire should have known. Feonna had kept her eyes on his progress in reviving the human ever since she was an infant. What the Witch Empress planned to do with her he could only guess, but it was equally twisted as the emissary’s plans. But if Feonna had taken the human, what had happened to s***h and Sight? Even without a soul, Adelaire found he still cared for them.

The Sentient stepped off the seal. Columns of dark smoke erupted from the ground and writhed around them. Everything dimmed, and they were back in the Sentient’s hall.

“Concerning your friends,” the Sentient said, walking up the dais to assume his seat on the throne. “One lies forgotten at the bottom of a river, and the other is just bones that coyotes gnaw at. They died in your name.”

Adelaire’s will did not waver. He had known this would happen. It was only natural that humans died after serving their purpose. His disciples were no exception.

“I will accept the contract,” Adelaire said. “Which soul do I need to reap?”

“The emissary who escaped is called Ryssera. She is the only one of the five who can be killed in the human plane.”

“I will reap her faster than an eye can blink,” Adelaire promised.

“Quite the contrary, she’ll be the most difficult to deal with. Her unique power uses devil’s essence for adaptation. If you kill her, she will resurrect with a new ability. She’ll be able to weaponize the way you use to kill her. Assume you burn her with hell fire. She reincarnates with affinity to it and she can manipulate it at will. That applies to your death essence as well. Any death skill you use against her will become her weapon. If you try to kill her yourself, you’ll make her practically indestructible.”

“I will find a way,” Adelaire said.

“And one more thing,” the Sentient added. “Ryssera can manipulate living souls and enforce her will upon the dead. You might have heard of them, the resurracts. They share her traits, so you must be careful on how you handle them.”

“Anything else?”

“I do not yet know the entity that freed Ryssera. If it turns out to be the Witch Empress as I suspect, I will need you to eliminate her.”

Adelaire hesitated.

“Will that be a problem?” the Sentient asked.

“No,” Adelaire replied.

“Good luck, then.”

Grey opened his eyes. He felt a ticklish sensation in his stomach. He lifted his head from the burnt ground. His mouth tasted like ash. Looking down at his body, he noticed his stomach had been ripped open. A wild jackal was gorging itself on his entrails. It must have taken a long time to gain consciousness without a soul after his body had been recreated by the Sentient. He tried to use nature’s aura to frighten the creature away, but he could not summon it.

The realization that it was no longer part of him troubled him. Nature’s aura had been his birthright. It had been his sole friend, and now all he had was death essence. All it could do was destroy.

Grey reaped the animal’s life essence and used it to regenerate his guts and stomach tissue. His joints snapped as he stood. He had reincarnated in his old form. Just the way he wanted it. He’d not be tempted to keep on living after he fulfilled his contract. Around him, Emroth had burnt to cinder. The place was lifeless. He yearned to feel the pain of losing his people, but his constitution did not allow it.

Grey walked down the hill and out of Emroth. Without nature’s aura, he could not fabricate clothing, so he went into the forest to search for something to put on. He used a Harbinger's ability: death trail to follow the path of the people who had destroyed Emroth. It was too late to attempt a rescue on any infernals who were still alive, if there were any.

In truth, Grey could have attempted and possibly saved some, but what was the point, when their home and livelihood had been destroyed? He was no longer there to protect them. He had carefully weighed these options and decided without emotion that death was the better ordeal for them.