Chapter 1
Oebrys, 2016
THE CHEERS BLASTED MY EARS.
I saw the festivities unfold like some beast awakening from its slumber. The town I had known as quiet and somber now morphed into a brightly-lit, ridiculously cheerful one in front of my eyes.
Vendors publicizing their products in booming voices, kids gleefully chasing each other, elders roaming around by the help of their canes.. the place was a lively riot of colors and noises.
It was quite simply, pathetic.
Folks in bunches of three or four, circulated the Widow’s Cauldron, hands filled with baskets of ribbons, potions, fruits, bread and cloth bolts.
Transverse swags of shiny tinsel and spools of glittery thread decorated almost every stall with the string lights giving the market an ethereal glow.
Merry music played by the buskers on side-road was coaxing all sorts of idiots onto the roads, arm-in-arm, performing some sort of a country dance.
I looked at the shitty mess they’d made together and sneered in derision.
Man, when would they ever grow up?
Sighing, I dug in my pant jeans to take out the sketch I’ve been stashing in my pocket for so long, it was almost a habit.
Now, when I traced that hook-nose with my eyes and pouty mouth that came later, I acknowledged the fact that this woman was making me crazy with blood lust ever since she’d blown up my entire clique.
Glimpses of their dashing selves contrasted with the heap of their mutilated carcasses; their once smiling expressions then paralyzed in choking terror and I fisted my hands when their faces changed to mine.
She would not get away again for sure, I vowed myself, but now I had to get a drink or else I’d faint even before I spotted her.
However, just as I was trudging toward the distant tents, the biting smell of opium and malty ones of beer mingling in an intoxicating blend for my sleep-depraved mind, someone bumped into me.
Stumbling, I reached out my hands to steady myself against an old tree and murmured apologies. The person nodded wordlessly, and the hood of his cloak slid back an inch--revealing the features I had just seen a while ago.
She was her. The hooded fellow.. it was the assassin who had so ruthlessly murdered my friends, the one whom I had been searching for nearly two years.
Yet, as I followed the woman into a forked path; I realized that I could never forgive her for the lives she had so ended so abruptly or for a chance at careless debauchery that she had snatched away from me without a second thought.
At least, until I’d sealed her fate the sane way she had done with others.
She called herself Mistress of Blood, huh? How about a Mummy of Justice?
Well, it certainly rolled good on my tongue.
Ariana Edensworth
The scent of blood tainted these alleys.
I adjusted the scabbard over my hips and squinted against the dim light.
Faints puffs of tobacco and burned sugar wafted up to me, the undertones of flour and candy telltale signs of the famous Gray’s confectionery... I steeled myself against a rush of memories, gritting my teeth to counter the sting of tears in my eyes.
‘So I sit here, the glace bonbons of Gray’s paling against the pure delight of your letters. I ask you, my love, when will you release me from this sweet agony--when will you come home? I beg the raging flames of Grim’s Pyre to send you back; I dream our first meeting along the curling tides of Cylver Sea; I plan our future in the constellations every night...’
And as childish gleeful shrieks pierced through my glum mood, I shut off my emotions and strode ahead, careful to keep my motions light.
An anonymous source had alerted the Chosens on the Rogue interference among these areas and it was imperative for us to eliminate the threat as soon as possible--all of the Ourdotheins knew what the bastards did to their victims.
Flashes of sawed off limbs, decapitated bodies, burnt and raped corpses came to mind and I swallowed my anger. Not anymore.
There was a Winter Solstice Festival in full swing now and presumably, the Rogues would hit tonight. I tamped down her helpless rage and concentrated my focus squarely on observation.
So when a whiff of sulphur permeated the air, I unsheathed my weapons with renewed purpose.
Scanning the crescent lanes and snaking roads, my eyes finally honed on a target.
Dark horns protruded from its head and its back had a hunched shape. Silver orbs covered the half of its face with a pair of yellow fangs peeking from its non-existent lips like some revolting tusks.
I shuddered in mild aversion, I had already killed several of them to not puke at first sight. Thank God.
Then I realized the color of it’s eyes. They had been gray.
A gorgon. A godsdamn Spirit-binding gorgon.
Taking a deep breath, I focused on the space between its head. As expected, they were swarming with thousands of miniature snakes.
Sticking to my side of the street, I drew up a pair of arrows. Using them as hiking sticks, I scaled the red-brick wall through painful heaves.
After twenty or so hauls, I finally reached the roof of the building. Under my leather boots, the concrete flooring hummed and thunder rumbled above, a normal reaction when too much Power was exercised. Which in this case, meant the Rogue was unstable, toying with too many Souls for no reason.
In other words, when the Ourdotheins reached their Peaks, their Voyds functioned to purge out all the banked-up Power; channeling it out in the outside world--and as a preventive measure against instant combustion from overload of their hyperactive senses.
But when too much was expelled at a single time, the Earth needed some readjustment, leading to its natural calamities.
Or opening up the Rifts, cracks that served as doorways between Mortal-world and Ourdotheia.
I approached the other side of the complex in measured strides, the thump of my steps merging with continuous bangs of exploding firecrackers.
Reaching the low parapet, I lay on my side and squinted through the steel bars, immediately producing my EllytAsh bow. On drawing the string for aiming up to maximum accuracy at his head, the space between his horns--when I knew he was distracted enough--I fired my arrows at him, one after the other.
A hissing and squelching sound followed, disgustingly loud in the soft, temporary silence.
For the first few seconds he just stood there, frozen. Then with a blood-curdling scream, he clawed at his body in frantic movements, ripping the flesh as it disintegrated into nothing but sulphur and brimstone.
Some of these times, I wondered if they were worthy for the mercy to end it all quick and if anyone is going to offer me the same if I succumbed to the madness afterall.
Sighing, I stood and lunged off the rafters in a smooth glide to the awning at a close shop and then sliding over it, down to the cobbled path.
Yet what I saw there, snared me in a stranglehold of emotion.
Lying in a puddle of sparkling crimson and charred remains of my prey, his body mauled and face deathly pale, was the love I’d sworn off a century ago.
