Alvira sat alone on the second floor of the Nexus, eyes transfixed on the demon's soul floating eerily above her ethereal hands. Her armored feet dangled precariously off the edge, but she paid no mind to how high above the bottom floor she was. It mattered not if she fell, for she was already dead. She was a soul without a body, encased in her cold, silver armor, no longer physically feeling. She had been bound to the Nexus by the Monumental the first time she had died. It was not true immortality, for she could still be killed, but the binding would assure that her soul was not taken and that she could keep fighting. So that she could keep collecting souls.
The chaotic energy dancing in front of her eyes bespoke an immense power, and that power called to her, whispering promises of yet more to come…
She knew those promises to be true.
The creature she had obtained this soul from had been a mighty one. It was known as the Phalanx, a grotesque, gelatinous, blob-like entity with a brightly glowing core. It had many smaller demons surrounding it, guarding its body with heavy shields and sharp spears. The lead demon also held a massive, spiked spear used for scraping and destroying armor. Its defensive capabilities had been extraordinary.
As the demon's soul danced in her palm, she recalled their battle…
Alvira charged at the monstrosity of flesh before her, halberd poised to slash, only her weapon was met by the cold steel of many hardened shields. She swung, prodded, and bashed against the demons to little avail, not even managing to leave a single scratch or dent behind.
There was no way that she could get close to find any weaknesses without being shredded to pieces. Using her bow was proving equally fruitless as her arrows simply bounced off the demons' shields; the few that managed to slip through the cracks had little effect. The thrust of a spear forced her backwards, then another even moreso, until she was no longer within melee range.
No matter, she still had her bow.
She swiftly nocked an arrow, releasing it towards a gap in the demons' shields. It connected flawlessly, but the creature's viscous hide stopped the arrow's sharp tip from piercing it. She tried again, yielding the same result. The demon's lackies didn't even bother to shield their master.
It all seemed hopeless. The demon was immune to everything in her arsenal. It slowly encroached upon her, backing her into a corner. Her bow fell to the ground, momentarily forgotten as she held up her halberd in a defensive position and squeezed the handle tight, preparing for her inevitable death. Then, all at once, a group of spears thrust forward towards her, forcing her to evade to the side at the last moment. They impacted with the wall, knocking one of the torches loose. It rolled towards the Phalanx and the creature noticeably recoiled from it until it sputtered and died on the ground.
Of course! Alvira thought to herself. Fire! Why had I not thought of that before?
She hastily foraged around in her pocket and produced a small oil cask capped with a cloth plug. Then, she grabbed one of the nearby torches off the wall, lit the cask, and hurled it in the direction of the demon. It hit its mark and set the demon's grunts ablaze. Many of them scattered and some altogether dissolved into a murky puddle. Eureka! Now she had exposed a weakness in the demon's guard and knew how to adequately deal with the thing. Only now she had upset it and it was advancing upon her with a gurgling hiss.
Alvira seized her bow, pulled another oil cask from her pocket, and began ripping small strips of cloth from her aketon. She swiftly and expertly wrapped the pieces of cloth around the tips of her arrows and dipped them in the cask. Using the torch she had collected earlier, she lit the arrows and began to pelt the Phalanx's unprotected flesh. Still the creature continued to charge mindlessly, seemingly oblivious to the fact that it was being burned alive. It made an odd, purling sound and threw its spear in Alvira's direction, missing only by a hair as she loosed her last shot into the very core of the demon's body. A blinding light flared, and the demon began to shriek; Alvira closed her eyes and clutched her ears as the sound of the demon's dying cry pierced them. An explosion of fire erupted, sending her flying backwards into a pillar as the demon writhed its last frantic throes before finally dying in a brilliant flash of white.
Once she was finally able to stand again, Alvira walked unsteadily over to the charred remnants of the Phalanx's corpse. Inside, its light still burned brightly, and she felt somehow drawn to it. She reached for it but halted when the light snaked towards her and coalesced in her palm, its gleaming a stark contrast to the now blackened corridor. Not knowing what to do next, she returned to the Nexus.
She was still looking into the soul of the demon when the sound of light footsteps shook her out of her reminiscing. Behind her stood the Maiden in Black, lighting a candle above her own head. She paused to gaze down towards Alvira, though truthfully she saw nothing. The Maiden was a short, frail woman, wrapped in a strange silken black cloth. Her ink-black hair flowed down to her upper back and was tied haphazardly into a half-braid. However, her strangest feature was her eyes: they were blocked with wax and sewn around the edges, making her completely unseeing. Yet when the Maiden looked at her, she felt that she could not only see her, but could also peer within her… through her. Despite it all, Alvira found that her presence was oddly comforting, like that of a mother.
Alvira looked back down towards the soul and frowned. It flickered brightly in her hands as she stroked it. Its evil essence unnerved her.
"Thou hast questions," the Maiden spoke softly in her strange, foreign accent.
"Yes," Alvira replied, holding the soul in one hand and rising to her feet. Her voice echoed softly around her as it was no longer contained by her form. She offered the soul to the Maiden, knowing that she would be able to see.
"I feel a change in me," Alvira began. "I hear whispers, but not in my head. I feel them… in my soul. In my very being. But the whispers are not mine."
The Maiden in Black cocked her head. "Thou hast slain the living and the demons they protect. The souls of the dead now dwell in thee."
Alvira frowned. "Why must I gather these souls? Why can I not simply set them free?"
"If thou dost not take them, the Old One will," the Maiden replied sadly. "Come now. Come closer."
Alvira did as told, and the Maiden bade her kneel before her. The Maiden gently placed a hand on her head and dropped her staff to the side, its flame still bright, yet refusing to spread. A gentle, silent wind seemed to encircle them as she began to speak:
Soul of the mind, key to life's ether.
Soul of the lost, withdrawn from its vessel.
Let strength be granted, so the world might be mended.
So the world might be mended…
The demon's soul began to shimmer and fade. Alvira felt both body and soul being invigorated, becoming stronger, as she lost herself in the Maiden's slow chanting. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling. As the soul of the demon imbibed her, she felt her physical senses returning. Slowly she began to breathe again, and her heart started a slow and steady rhythm inside her chest. She could feel once more the cloth, leather, and plate that made up her armor, and the flesh it swore to protect. She opened her eyes again, clenching and unfurling her fist, relishing in the return of her form, and silently thanking God for the blessing of body once more.
After a short time, the Maiden withdrew her hand, and the rush of power that she had felt left with it. She did, however, feel another change within herself. She felt stronger. More capable. The warrior grabbed the halberd that had been laying at her side and rose. She looked to the Maiden again, and in her upturned palm she held a faintly shining crystal dangling from a thin, flaxen thread. The woman was offering this to her, Alvira realized, and she gingerly took the odd ornament from her hand, studying it carefully. It was dark green, almost black, and the light within was dim. There seemed to be nothing particularly special about it. Alvira looked to the Maiden skeptically, and, sensing the question that had not yet passed her lips, she answered, "A house for thine souls, and to guide thee when all has become dark."
Understanding, Alvira nodded and tied the augite to her belt, and without another word to the Maiden, turned away with determined strides.
Ostrava dipped into a destroyed archway still covering a small portion of the open bridge leading up to Boletaria's keep. He was out of breath and quickly running out of energy. It felt as if he had been running for hours. Luck seemed to be on his side, though; it looked as if he had finally given the drake the slip. The flying monstrosity was nowhere to be seen.
He sunk down to his knees and let his ornamental sword and shield hit the pavement with a quiet ting. He feared to stay in one place for long, lest more of the soul-starved come chasing after him. His return to Boletaria had been nothing but fleeing for his life from madmen and demons alike.
"What has happened to my beloved Boletaria? My home?" he breathed into his palm, though he had little time to lament; the roaring of the drake could be heard up in the sky, and soon the large beast landed behind him, greeting him with an ear-shattering wail. Ostrava cried out in horror as the drake let loose a volley of fire from its maw, narrowly missing him as he dove off to the side. He quickly got to his feet, grabbed his sword and shield, and ran down the bridge away from the drake. It knocked down the remnants of the stone archway in its pursuit, leaving fire in its wake as it chased the steel-clad knight, easily keeping pace with him.
"God, help me!" Alvira heard a voice yelling in the near distance as she dislodged her halberd from the back of a dead soldier. She hurried towards the voice, barely dodging obstacles as she passed them to reach the source of distress. When she arrived, she found a man trapped between a giant red drake and a wall of wooden barricades. Alvira frantically shifted her eyes from left to right, and to her relief, found a staircase leading up to the top of the archway above the drake.
She pounded up the stairs, unlatching her bow from its sling as she went. When she reached the top, the drake reared its head up, ready to breathe another wave of fire at the defenseless knight. Her arrow was ready and aimed at the drake's head. She heard the knight scream just as the drake opened its mouth to release, yet it was not fire that spewed from its jaws, but a pain-filled shriek. The arrow that Alvira let loose had hit the drake directly in the eye. The beast clawed at the arrow with its leg, whirling around in a frenzy and shattering the wooden barricades with its spiked tail. It spewed fire angrily into the sky as it took flight, gliding crookedly and disappearing beyond a nearby hill.
Alvira ran back down the stairs to the knight, now lying face down in a pile of planks and shattered wood. He rose to his arms and knees, shaking his head slightly as if he could not believe that he was still alive. She reached down to help the knight stand and eventually he was able to balance himself against the wall for support.
"Thank you," the knight said breathlessly. "I would not have made it had you not assisted me."
Alvira gave the slightest nod. "Are you going to be all right?" she asked concernedly.
"I will manage." He finally found the strength to stand up straight and examined the woman closely. Her armor was plated and polished silver and had an intricate gold carving of a tree surrounded by runes on the breastplate. Her helmet's visor completely hid her face, save for some very inconspicuous eye sockets near its crown, which flared out in the shape of a tree and was decorated thusly with masterfully painted leaves and branches. Rich, blue velvet cloth trimmed with silver flowed from her waistline and covered her legs, although the cloth had been unfortunately torn in many places. Her legs were protected with heavy silver greaves adorned with gold carvings similar to her breastplate. Though in battle she stood much taller than him, the top of her head only managed to reach his collar.
After taking a moment to reconcile himself, Ostrava held out his hand, offering it to her. "My name is Ostrava," he introduced more proudly than he felt, a product of his "etiquette" training. "And you are…?"
Alvira returned the gesture with just as much pride and shook the knight's hand. "My name is Alvira. I'm a Temple Knight of the Church."
"A Temple Knight?" he exclaimed. "What are you doing all the way out here?"
"I am a demon slayer," she replied. "I could ask you the very same. There aren't many sane folk out this way."
Ostrava fidgeted slightly and bowed his head, unable to maintain eye contact even through their heavily armored façades. "Let us just say that I am looking for someone and leave it at that," he murmured.
He noted the slight tilt of the Temple Knight's head as she answered, "As you wish. I wouldn't want to pry in your business."
Ostrava eyed the bridge where the drake had been trailing him warily. The charred remnants of soldiers and blockades churning enough smoke up into the sky to make seeing across to the other side a nigh impossibility. The drake had single-handedly wiped out any resistance he would have faced on this bridge's side, and thanks to this demon slayer, the creature had not done him in.
I should be safe for a while, at least, he thought to himself. Then, a shaky sigh escaped him as he conjured images of what lied in wait ahead. He briefly considered asking the woman if she would allow him to accompany her. Ostrava knew he was not much of a fighter himself. Having a traveling companion would dramatically improve the odds of his success.
He was startled out of his thoughts at the sound of shifting wood and the clanking of armor as Alvira started to turn away. "Wait!" he shouted, a bit too loudly. He felt his face turn red and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. Thank God for this helmet…
Alvira turned back to Ostrava and raised an unseen eyebrow. "Yes?"
All was quiet for a moment as Ostrava contemplated what he would say next. On one hand, having a traveling companion would be useful, and this woman clearly knew how to fight. However, on the other hand, would he be able to trust her with the task that he was undertaking? He had only just met her, and he had his doubts. Perhaps she would not take him seriously, or worse, she would take advantage of his weakness. No, he determined. She may have saved me, but I cannot have the expectation that this would be to my benefit. I am being naïve.
"I merely wanted to wish you the best of luck on your journey before you depart," he said at last to break the uncomfortable silence that was settling around them. "May God be with you." He put his hands together in prayer and closed his eyes. "Umbasa."
Alvira smiled and returned the gesture enthusiastically, bowing to him as she did so. "Umbasa."
Yet, as Alvira turned and continued on her way, Ostrava began to have second thoughts.