Chapter VIII
Let us begin this chapter with the chorus of Iron Savior's The Demon
"Lost inside the realm of darkness
Lost inside the nightmare and the fears
Nowhere to run to
Nowhere to hide
When the demon takes the mind"
Strangely peacefully the Fearlings and Nightmare Men that remained roamed Umbra, most around the prison complex, exploring the island. Such a lifeless rock; there was truly no point in staying here, and after all those years in prison they wanted to leave, to taste the fear and terror of mankind once more. When night came, and the last rays of the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, all Dream Pirates paused for a moment. Swiftly they headed back to the prison, gathering in the small room, and on the plateau, surrounding the entry from all sides. The hissing had stopped, and there was only utter silence. Every single white eye was focused on a single spot, at least those that could see into the building.
There stood a man, once their warden, but this morning, ten thousand of their kin had seen to his end. The man, who had taken his place, was unlike anything they'd seen before, not human, but not Fearling or Nightmare Man either. His uniform of green, white and gold had been replaced by one of similar style but pure black; the light armor of overlapping plates, the long, open coat, but both lacking any ornamentation. The sword had been discarded, and was now lying in the corner of the room.
Calmly the man was regarding himself, ignoring the dark spirits surrounding him, which were watching him. After a while one got closer, and the man's head snapped around. Quickly the Fearling retreated again, actually intimidated by those eyes, shimmering either in freezing silver or gold, depending on the way the light was being reflected by them, and thanks to their collective mind, they were all affected.
…
He looked at the Fearling as it backed off again, sensing its fright a fright shared by them all. No longer was he one of them, and different from them, he was an individual, courtesy of his human origin. Ah, yes; he'd been a mortal human once, just this morning actually. He chuckled, a chuckle that would have sent shivers down a mortal man's spine. Well that was the past now, wasn't it? Now he was fear itself, and other than the Fearlings he had the wits of a human, and the experience of a general…that was why they had turned him. They wanted revenge, he wanted revenge, and pure instinct wasn't enough, not against Atlantis, the only true threat in their way.
The arrogance of those people. There would always be fear, fear so necessary for survival, not just of any sentient being but him and his Fearlings in particular. They needed fear almost as much as a human needed air to breath. It was therefore only went without saying that they sowed it into the hearts of men, a deed done out of necessity more than malice. Naturally the Atlantians hadn't understood that.
His fists clenched, and sensing his anger, the Dream Pirates retreated further away from him. Had the Atlantians not stood against them, there would not have been a war, thousands of lives would have been spared. They would still live, and he would have never come to this place. Yes; in the end, Atlantis was to blame for everything that had happened, and it would pay dearly. Once they were gone, no further bloodshed would be required, there would only be fear and darkness. Such a beautiful vision for the future.
First however, he needed to get off this island. Of course he could always use his powers, and that of the remaining Dream Pirates around him to create a black ship, but it would be a waste of energy, and it would soon be spotted, something he could not afford at this point. The years imprisoned had left him weakened; he needed to inspire fear, gather as much power as he could before he was ready to meet to Golden Fleet in combat. No, he had to escape by different means. Was not a supply ship supposed to arrive tomorrow?
A smile spread across his face. The end of the Golden Age had just begun.
…
The supply ship arrived early the following morning, the sky still colored by the rising sun in a warm orange. It anchored as it had so many times before at the headland, which loomed several meters further into the sea than the rest of the island. Tiredly the Captain rubbed his eyes and yawned. The storm a few days ago had left him and the crew exhausted. Three days it had lasted, allowing them little or in most cases no sleep at all during that time. Maybe they should stay on Umbra just for a day or two, so everyone could get a goodnight's sleep. As far away from the mountain as the headland was, there was no chance the Dream Pirates could affect them…hopefully.
The Captain looked up to the plateau and saw a single figure standing there. Surely Lord Pitchiner would be pleased to have human company again. Suddenly there was the sound of something hitting the water. Everyone on the ship had heard it too and checked, all heads peeking over the railing. From the deeps something dark rose from below the ship, and only as it came close to the water surface did they recognize it as blood.
"What happened?"
"You think there are sharks in these waters?"
"Hey, where is Maccus? Didn't he stand here just a second ago?"
The last caught the Captain's attention, and twisted his stomach; no one had left the ship so far, after all they had just dropped anchor.
"What are you trying to say? That something pulled him off the ship" There was some nervous laughter. "He's probably just under deck." Most agreed, though they seemed unconvinced, the men nervously exchanging looks. Then someone screamed.
Everyone spun around, just in time to see how one of them was being pulled up the mast. Black claws had buried themselves into his chest, belonging to an equally dark creature that was merged with the shadow of the mast itself. Its eyes were cold and white, the lipless mouth exposed razor-sharp teeth, far more than any living creature should have. The man was still alive, crying out in pain, his legs kicking out several meters above the deck and his crewmates. With one swift movement of its claws, the creature ended his suffering, and they could hear the ribs break, even from a distance. The Captain had hoped never to set eyes upon these things again; Fearlings!
It let the lifeless body fall to the ground, everyone backing off, staring either at their dead crewmate or the Fearling in horror and shock. With a wide, terrible grin it looked down upon them. "Draw your weapons!" The order came too late; out of every shadow upon the ship Fearlings appeared, cutting down the men with claws and blades of their own. The Captain had managed just in time to draw his sword, blocking a Nightmare Man's attack. It was taller than the other Dream Pirates, and unlike them had real legs and feet. The sword came around again, aimed to cut open the Captain's chest. How fortunate that he was still carrying around an enchanted blade, and the Captain deflected the strike, sidestepping at the same time. He had a clear path to the neck. Just inches before the blade made contact the Nightmare Man grabbed him by the wrist of his right arm with a hand, effectively stopping him. It tightened its grip, threatening to break the Captain's bones, and he flinched before letting go of his weapon. The Nightmare Man twisted his arm as it went around him, until it stood behind him, placing the blade at his throat.
The pain was dulling every other of his sensing, but when he looked up again, he looked upon a battlefield. Every one of his men was dead; most didn't even get the chance to defend themselves. Horrified he watched the Fearlings, as they threw the bodies of his crew over the railing into the water. His gaze only detached itself from the scene, when someone approached him. Not a Fearling, not another Nightmare Man, but a human. It was someone the Captain knew well.
No, this couldn't be, the Captain thought, with the Nightmare Man's blade still at his throat. The other man stopped just in front of him, looking down with an uncaring expression. "Lord Pitch?" Impossible; but despite the ashen color of his skin, there could be no mistake. His attire was as dark as the Fearlings' substance, and there was something about the clothes he was wearing that seemed unnatural. "Clad in shadows' black?" Why? How?
"Lord Pitch? Black?" A cool smile showed itself, and the man shivered at the sight. "A fitting enough name, I suppose." The former general made a simple wave with two fingers, and the Nightmare Man cut once through the Captain's throat.
The palazzo of house Scorpio was like all properties of the Constellation a magnificent sight to behold. As the name suggested it was a small palace in itself, the white marble covered with carvings, or small statues, which were looking down on the street and whoever was walking by, while slender pillars supported the dome that was serving as the roof. Into the heavy portals, made of exotic wood, a giant, stylized scorpion was carved in, the houses sigil. The two guards in front, dressed in black and bronze, bowed respectful when Lykos Sagittarius reached the palazzo, and opened said portals for him. He thank them as he entered, finding himself in a large, semicircular hall, the decoration here the same as at the front.
It had been some time since Lykos had last been here, and new scenes had been added to the wall, these now depicting events of the Dream Pirate war. There was a particular detailed part, life-sized of course, where Nereus Scorpio was cutting a Nightmare Man in half. While Lykos regarded the artwork, a servant approached him, and already elderly man in a simple white chiton.
"Lord Sagittarius." He bowed deeply. "My master is awaiting you in his study. Please, follow me." The servant led Lykos from the hall, through a corridor upstairs to the first floor, where he knocked against one of the doors. "Milord, Lord Captain Sagittarius has arrived."
"Ah, yes. Come in." Scorpio's gruff voice came from inside.
The servant opened the door, and bowed once more before he stepped aside to let Lykos enter. As the door was closed behind him, he looked around. Again white marble walls, while the shelves, chairs and a massive table were made of dark wood. At the latter Lord Nereus Scorpio sat, with his back to the window behind him, through which one could look out to the atrium. Other than it seemed from outside, the dome was not actually closed but had a large oculus at its center, flooding the atrium with sunlight, and kept the palazzo well ventilated. With a gesture, Scorpio offered his guest one of the chairs, his expression rather grim and thoughtful.
It worried Lykos somewhat. "You wanted to see me, High General?"
"Yes Captain, there is a matter that requires our immediate attention." Scorpio began to explain; his elbows rested on the table, while his chin was hidden behind his fingers, which he had intertwined. "We have a problem that deeply concerns me: the supply ship that has gone to Umbra has not yet returned."
Lykos could feel the color leaving his face. "Could it have been a storm, perhaps?" There had been reports of a storm in that particular area, but there was always the other possibility; Lykos dreaded the thought.
Slowly Scorpio nodded, naturally having considered the same alternative. "That is what I'm hoping; such things happen a few times a year, but taking its destination into account we must investigate."
He took in a deep breath. "Then I request to sail for Umbra myself, General."
When Scorpio shook his head, the Captain ground his teeth. "I know Lord Pitch is your friend, your brother even, but that is why I do not want you to go." Lykos was about to protest but the High General stopped him. "I will head to Umbra myself, and in the meantime, I want you to patrol the surrounding islands. If the ship has not been destroyed, it will show up in the area." His eyes narrowed. "And if the Dream Pirates are indeed back, they will be close by."
The General's words were followed by a few moments of silence. When Lykos spoke again, the calmness of his words belied his anxiety. "We put over ten thousand of them into that prison, a formidable force. Do you wish me to engage should I encounter them?"
"That will depend on the number of ships you'll encounter. Should they outnumber yours, report to me with a hawk and follow them until reinforcements have arrived." He emphasized his next words with the cracking of his knuckles. "Otherwise, you have the order to search and destroy."
Grimly, but joylessly, Lykos smiled. "Yes, Milord."
"Good; gather your men and prepare your ships." As he spoke, Scorpio rose. "Set sail as soon as possible."
"Sir, may I make one request?" Lykos asked, standing up now as well.
"What kind of request do you have in mind Lord Sagittarius?"
"I'd like to be informed of what you find on Umbra."
The High General regarded him for a moment, than nodded. "Of course; I'll be sending a hawk as soon as I've found out anything."
This time the smile was honest. "My thanks, Lord Scorpio."
Carefully Chrysos peeked over the edge of the cliff. Meters below the waves crashed against the stones, the seagulls flying circles over his heads. Emily was sitting on his shoulder, mindful not to dig her claws too deeply into the clothing and touch upon flesh, though few weeks earlier the young priest had already reinforced the shoulder and forearm parts with pieces of leather, for further protection.
"I must admit that I've missed the smell of the ocean." She told him, her gaze wandering over the sea.
Chrysos frowned and stepped back from the edge. "You mean this penetrating smell of salt and seaweed?"
He heard her chuckle. "I suppose for someone from the mountains it takes getting used to."
"A little." It was indeed very different from the clear air back in Epirus. Though Chrysos had been at the coast before, even traveled via ship once, this terrain remained comparatively alien to him. "And now we follow the coastline west?"
"Fewer chances of getting lost. I've noticed that the road network here is not the best."
"What roads?" Chrysos joked amused.
"Exactly."
Silently the young priest laughed in respond, and they travelled on. It was the end of spring and the day slowly got from warm to uncomfortably hot, even for someone used to the climate. When noon was about them, Chrysos searched for a comfortable place in the shadows of the trees, where they could rest for the next few hours until it got cooler again. He found a decent spot under a group of olive trees, the silver shimmering leaves covering them from the sun, while a fresh breeze came from the ocean. After some time, Chrysos could feel himself starting to doze off. It was then that he sensed something in the distance.
"I've been meaning to ask, Emily; have sensed something strange lately?"
Emily, who'd made herself comfortable on a low-growing branch, stretched her wings, having been close to sleep herself. "Strange how?" She asked in return as she closed them again.
For days now, every now and then, Chrysos had noticed something, like the static before a thunderstorm, but somehow he knew it wasn't natural. "I'm not sure…it's just ominous."
"Why that's specific."
He rolled his eyes. "I know, but I don't know how to describe it better. It's like something dark at the edge of my mind."
The hawk looked up at the sky, or would have anyway if there hadn't been a couple of tree branches in the way. "I sense it too, weakly. It seems magical in origin."
Chrysos frowned worried, though he had suspected much the same. "Are you certain?"
Emily turned her head to look at him. "I've spent years with a wizard; I know the sensation when magic is being cast, and whatever that is, it's similar." She explained.
"Whatever it is, it gives me goosebumps."
"Perhaps we're not the only magic users on the continent. I've heard that terrible thing can happen, if one is not properly instructed." Emily suggested. "Or unlike you this someone is not using his abilities to help people."
"I suppose it is as good an explanation as any." He noted, absent-mindedly chewing on his lower lip. "You think we'll find out what it is?"
"Somehow, I don't really want to."
Chrysos nodded in agreement. That sensation, whatever it was, whatever caused it, reminded him too much of the shadows.
High General Scorpio already had a bad feeling before he'd set food on the prison island Umbra. His gut was telling him that his worst nightmares had come true, and the men onboard his ships were nervous. Upon their arrival, everyone had their weapon drawn, even without receiving the order first, and with several of them, as well as two mages of the guild, Lord Scorpio made his way to the prison itself, up the mountain. It was a bad sign when the warden did not welcome them, as he usually did whenever a ship came to the island.
Scorpio felt tense as he followed the path, leading up to the plateau, and his hand clenched his scimitar tightly, to a point where the tips of his fingers actually began to feel numb. Divines, let him be wrong. His heart sank when he saw the entry the mountain, the door open, moving slightly back and forth in the wind. "Be on your guard." It was an unnecessary thing to say, but the words slipped his mouth on their own accord. Sword ready to strike, Scorpio placed a hand on the door, and pushed it open.
This time his heart almost stopped, when he saw the prison door wide open, given view to the darkness beyond it, nullifying the many spells and enchantments that had bound the Dream Pirates to this place.
The room looked like a battle had taken place there. Every piece of furniture had either been destroyed or at the least thrown aside, but worse the deep claw marks everywhere along the walls and the ceiling; it were dozens, as if a wild animal, or several, had flown into a murderous frenzy. There was no sign of Kozmotis Pitchiner; there was only a pool of blood in the room's center, in front of the cell's door. Divines; what had happened here?
"They truly have escaped." One of the wizards was the first to speak, shock in his quiet voice.
"Yes." Scorpio agreed. "It is as we've feared."
"But the enchantments should have kept them imprisoned for all times."
"It doesn't matter so much how it happened; what matters is that it happened, and that we now face war against the Dream Pirates again." Scorpio turned around to his men, the soldiers looking upon the scene in disbelief. "Officer Capricorn."
The man seemed in shock at, but recovered fairly quickly. "Yes,…yes, Milord?"
"Have messages send to all Captains of the Golden Fleet; inform them about the situation, let them know that I want all smaller hamlets to be evacuated, our defense must be focused on key points, accordingly to the plan we've elaborated at the end of the war."
"Right away, High General."
"To all except Captain Sagittarius." Scorpio added. "His message, I'll be writing myself."
Officer Capricorn rushed back to the ships, while Scorpio walked further into the room, allowing the rest of the landing party to enter. They all looked around, their eyes mostly fixed on the cuts along the solid stone walls. All were veterans of the last war, and they all dreaded the thought of meeting this enemy again in battle.
"And what of Lord Pitch." Someone asked.
Almost expectantly they looked to Scorpio. "I'm afraid he was the first to fall." He spoke saddened, nodding towards the pool of dried blood. "The Dream Pirates likely took revenge for their defeat and imprisonment."
"High General." The other sage spoke. "It is likely, actually it is the only possibility, that someone from the outside has opened the door."
Scorpio's eyes narrowed; this man wasn't suggesting…"What are you saying?"
"That maybe not the Fearlings have killed Lord Pitchiner." The sage started to explain. "Perhaps someone has come to this island to free the Dream Pirates."
"And killed Kozmotis Pitchiner?" The General frowned. "That man was one of Atlantis' best swordsmen."
"An ambush, an assassination then. Someone from the supply ship could have come close enough."
Scorpio considered the sage's words for a while, looking around thoughtfully. "Possible, but still to what end? Why free the Dream Pirates?"
The sage's exchanged looks. "I presume it would have to have been a mage, who sought to control the Fearlings." One of them finally theorized. "After all, a mage is capable of controlling animals; someone powerful could have overestimated their abilities in that area."
"So you're saying one of the guild?" Scorpio growled dangerously. "Who of your fellow sages was on the last supply ship?"
Defensively one wizard raised his hands. "Milord, we are not the only mages on this world. It is more likely it was an outsider, someone who has not seen the destructiveness of the Dream Pirates first hand."
"If this person exists, and the Dream Pirates haven't killed him yet, I will." The High General promised; Kozmotis Pitchiner had been a friend, a brother in arms, and he'd brought them to victory in the past war. Again, he studied the room around him, noticing something. "His weapons are gone…which reminds me." He turned to the sages. "Lord Pitch's scythe was capable of actually killing Dream Pirates; have you make progress with the enchantment in the past years?"
"It was not deemed necessary, and work on weapon enchantment was eventually abandoned in recent years." Suddenly the two seemed somewhat abashed, and it wasn't improving Scorpios' mood.
"I'd say the guild has a new priority then." He declared dryly. "It is clear now that our only chance is to finish them once and for all. Besides, I do not believe the will fall for the same trap twice."
The two sages bowed. "We will inform the guild at once."
Lord Scorpio nodded, as they left as well. As soon as they were gone, he picked something up from the ground, one of several parchment scrolls that were lying around. Careful not to damage the brittle looking material, he unrolled it. It was a detailed, rather realistic coal drawing, and likely so were the others to his feet. Amina Pitchiner had no doubt drawn these, and they had probably been Kozmotis' most precious and valued belongings.
Scorpio addressed the handful of men still with him in the prison. "Get a chest from the ship; we take what belonged to Lord Pitch with us."
"Right away, High General." The soldier left as well, leaving their superior alone.
Once more he turned to the scroll; these shouldn't be lost here. Lord and Lady Sagittarius should receive them. It was strange to think that this was all that remained of the Pitchiner family, and the General's gaze wandered back to the ground.
Nereus kneeled down, and carefully placed a hand on the dried blood. "Goodbye, old friend." He spoke, the ghost of a sad, regretful smile showing itself on his stern face. "I hope you have finally found peace."
For a few moments he remained on his knees, in silent commemoration. Then he spotted something golden in the corner of his eye. Nereus turned his head a saw a small object, shimmering next to the partly destroyed shelf. He walked over to it, picking up a golden, oval locket. Years ago, Nereus had seen Kozmotis wear it, though he'd never seen the inside before. Now he opened the locket, and looked upon the picture of a young girl. Aemilia Ionna Pitchiner. No wonder Kozmotis had never taken it off, Nereus thought to himself, smiling warmly. Poor child; to have died so young, so cruelly. Carefully, the General put the locket into one of his pockets. He would give it to Lady Sagittarius himself upon his return.
It was a peaceful day for the people of Hesperos. The buildings of the town were quite new, the settlement having been rebuild after the war, and so they were still shining white. The people lived of fishing and what they grew on the surrounding hills. It was early that morning, most fishers were still on the sea, when a trireme came in sight. Merchants were not unheard of on Hesperos, but it was unusual since the last had left the island just a few days ago. They had not been expecting another ship for some time.
The men at the harbor were even more surprised when they saw that the trireme was abandoned. Any yet it stopped at the docks, and the anchor was being lowered though they could see no one aboard. Next came the landing bridge, and only now someone appeared on the deck. It was a tall, lean man, dressed completely in black, his face hidden by a wide hood. He ignored the staring men, his gaze upon the town itself. Something was wrong with this one. They could feel themselves growing anxious, actually frightful just by looking at this stranger. Every fiber of their bodies screamed at them to run away, to hide in some corner and cry, but at the same time they were paralyzed.
The stranger, who was standing in the shadow of the trireme, made a wave with his hand. They could only watch in terror as out of the shadows humanoid figures rose, with dreadfully familiar white eyes, sharp fangs and claws. How those creatures had haunted their nightmares in past years. Swift, like a black tidal wave, countless Dream Pirates got moving, flooding the streets, out to kill. The men at the harbor were only the first to fall.
One Fearling stayed at its master's side. His voice was calm and unmoved by the screams, sounding from the town. "Leave survivors and dispose of any blessed weapon that you can find. The bottom of the ocean will be sufficient."
The Fearling chuckled darkly and set off, following the others.
The second in command cringed, when his Captain slammed his first against the solid wooden hull of the ship. The entire crew on deck had stopped working for a moment, trying to find out what was going on.
"Damn it." They could hear their Captain snarl as he crushed the message he'd just received in his other fist. "Damn it, I told him to leave that island. Why didn't you listen to me just that one time?"
"Sir?" His officer asked carefully, after having stepped back a little just to be safe.
"Attention soldiers!" None of them could remember ever seeing their Captain this enraged, and his voice could be heard everywhere on the trireme, the knuckles of his fists having turned white. "The Dream Pirates have escaped their prison on Umbra, their warden and our former High General Kozmotis Pitchiner is dead!" Shocked the men exchanged looks; the fact that the Dream Pirates had actually managed to kill the man, who had defeated them was terrifying. It explained their Captain's rage though; first he had lost his sister to those monsters, and now Lord Pitchiner. They all knew that Lord Sagittarius and the former High General had been like brothers, friends their entire lives. "We are going to find the black ships, and we're going to make them wish they'd never left their cell!"
Gently Nereus Scorpio placed the golden locket into Lady Sagittarius' palms. She said nothing, only opened it, to look at the picture of her granddaughter, tracing the face beneath the glass with a finger. A silent, lonely tear ran down her face.
"Do you know how it happened?" Lord Sagittarius asked one arm supportively around his wife.
"Only theories, I'm afraid." Scorpio admitted. "Perhaps once we've found the black ship we can shed some light on the events." The High General had just that day returned to Atlantis, in order to coordinate the Golden Fleet, and to speak with both the council and the guild personally. That evening he'd gone to Lord and Lady Sagittarius to tell them what had happened to their stepson, and to give them the chest, containing the scrolls and a few books.
His Lordship's eyes narrowed, the unoccupied hand clenched into a fist. "You don't even know how the Dream Pirates escaped. What do the sages say?"
"They claim that the door had to be opened from the outside; they assume someone came to the island with the intention to free them." Scorpio explained, though he still found the mere idea ridiculous. Despite not being a mage himself, he personally found it more likely that one or more of the spells failed after all these years they'd been in place, or that the Dream Pirates had eventually found a weakness.
Lady Sagittarius looked up from the locket, a little puzzled by his words. "How could anyone be so foolish?"
He could only shake his head. "That I cannot say, Milady, but I can assure you he will be punished for his crimes." She nodded in appreciation at his promise, followed by a few moments of silence.
Then there was a deep sigh from her husband. "I knew it was a mistake to let him go to this island; he shouldn't have been there in the first place."
"With all due respect, Lord Sagittarius." Scorpio weight in carefully. "You said yourself that you'd left the decision to him."
He nodded. "And I was wrong to do so, General Scorpio." There was nothing Scorpio could think of as a response, and he certainly didn't want to further add the Lord and Lady's pain. Perhaps it would be best to leave them be, give them privacy, allowing them to come to terms with what had happened.
"What of Lykos?" It sounded as if Lady Sagittarius was almost afraid to ask.
It had been over a week since last he heard of his Captain, at a time when Scorpio had already been on route back to Atlantis. "Last I received news from him he was on his way to Hesperos, one of the inhabited islands in relative close proximity to Umbra."
Captain Lykos Sagittarius reached Hesperos one day around afternoon, and shortly after the island had come in sight, they saw smoke rising to the sky. It was very quiet on board the four triremes under Lykos' command. Even the seabirds didn't make a sound.
Smoking ruins greeted the soldiers upon arrival. Lykos hadn't seen this destruction since the end of the war, and it brought back painful memories. Bodies lay in the streets, more probably in the ruins themselves. They were all covered with deep cuts, their clothing drenched with their own blood, and even in death their expression showed fear and despair. War had returned to Atlantis.
The soldiers roamed the town, but they found no Fearling, only more bodies, until. "Captain Sagittarius."
"What is it, officer?"
The man looked strangely excited, and he had good reasons. "We've found survivors."
"What?" Dream Pirates never left survivors, unless they truly couldn't get their hands on you.
"They're uphill in the temple, most still in shock."
"Bring me to them."
Lykos followed officer Thaddeus through the streets to a small temple, which was in much better shape than all the other buildings on the island. Quite a large number of soldiers had gathered here, most supporting the civilian, talking to them. Lykos walked past a woman who was sobbing against one of his men's chest, her fingers digging into the uniform, leaving the soldier confused and frankly overstrained. No one taught them how to deal with situations like this.
Thaddeus led his Captain to a man, who already had somewhat recovered from the events. He sat on the stairs, and while his expression seemed neutral, almost empty, tears running down his face. "Sir?" Lykos asked kindly, but he got no response at first. "Sir?" He tried again, and this time the man turned his head to look at him. "Can you tell me what has happened here?"
"Shadows." The man whispered. "A lone trireme came to the island; I saw it when it appeared on the horizon. And then they came. Shadows. They killed everyone but us, slaughtered them, men, women and children…" He started to sob, hiding his face behind his hands.
Lykos and Thaddeus exchanged looks, before the Captain walked away back to a destroyed building. Heavy hearted Lykos looked about; of the house next to him, only the wall remained. Lykos placed a hand on the dark gray stone, sensing the warmth till radiating from it. Little time had passed since the attack. To Hades with the Dream Pirates. Brimming with anger, Lykos removed his hand again, some of the ash sticking to his skin, leaving behind a white handprint on the surface. Cautiously his officers approached him.
"Thaddeus, you and your man will remain here." Lykos kneeled down and closed the eyes of a woman, who was lying between the debris. "Give the dead a proper funeral, take care of the survivors. I will go ahead and follow the black ships; they cannot have gotten far."
"Of course, sir." His officer promised, bowing respectfully. "Divines be with you."
"And with you, Thaddeus."
As Lykos and his men returned to the ships, it started to rain. The first drops hit the ground, stirred up the ash, throwing some back in the air like dust. Due to the coolness of the water, steam began to rise from every surface, be it ground or the ruins. The rain got worse, and now the water slowly washed away the ash from the stones, revealing their original white shade beneath the gray layer. By the time Lykos had reached his ships, the wet ash was sticking to the bottom of his boots, but light was breaking through the clouds once more. The island turned into a truly surreal place, as the rain continued, despite the sun's sudden appearance. Especially on the bright walls, the water reflected its light in shimmering colors, pale but noticeable nonetheless. It seemed like Helios' final gesture, his farewell to the people who had lost their lives.
No one had taken notice of the single Fearling that had been watching the Captain the entire time, or as it disappeared through a nearby shadow back to its master.
The sun was starting to set on the same day that Lykos had left Hesperos, when another ship came in sight. According to the man in the crow's nest, it was an Atlantian trireme, not a black ship, but Lykos remembered what one of the survivors had told him; no black ship had come to Hesperos this morning, which meant that this was likely also the supply ship from Umbra. Slowly they closed in when the man from the crow's nest shouted. "Captain! The trireme seems abandoned!"
"Has there been fighting?" If this was merely a ship the Dream Pirates had attack as they'd passed it, there should be signs of battle; damage to the vessel, bodies of the sailors.
"It appears to be undamaged!"
Strange, but now Lykos was certain that this was the ship from Hesperos; the currents couldn't have brought it anywhere else, and the Fearlings were capable of merging and hiding within every shadow. Divines only knew how many could be onboard that ship. "Enemy ship ahead! Prepare for battle!"
They would not escape him.
…
The rear of the supply ship was on a higher level than the rest of the deck, and Pitch sat on the stairway, leading up to it. Even though the sun didn't harm him, he found it uncomfortable, and so Pitch remained in the shade thrown by the railing. By now the fleet was no doubt aware of the Dream Pirates' escape from Umbra, which meant the plan would be enacted. Pitch had been among those who'd worked it out, and therefore he knew the islands where the Atlantians would gather in order to minimize civilian casualties and concentrate their defences. And just as importantly, Pitch knew their tactics. Along with the Dream Pirates abilities, Pitch would be able to wipe out one stronghold after the other.
One of his Fearlings approached him, merging out of a nearby shadow, but keeping a respectful distance. To a human it would have been merely hissing, Pitch however heard the words clearly in his head.
A cruel smile appeared on his grey lips. "Well, they caught up sooner than I expected."
The Fearling hissed anew, excited.
"No, let them come closer first. Wait for my orders."
…
The Golden Fleets ships had almost caught up with the trireme, and still there was no sign of a crew. Lykos let his gaze wander over to his soldiers; they were ready for battle, but anxious, even frightful. At least they were anticipating the almost certain ambush. All eyes were either on the trireme in front, or the shadows on their own ship. Lykos noticed that he was holding his breath, when they were finally beside the empty trireme, only separated by a meter or so, the other two other ships under his command were circling around, trapping it between them. Nothing.
No ambush, no Fearlings or Nightmare Man anywhere to be seen. Like his men Lykos was puzzled, truthfully a little relieved. Perhaps this one was just drifting on the currents, a ghost ship, nothing more. The soldiers were quietly talking with each other, still searching the other ship for signs of the enemy. The Captain could hear some of what they said; a few were even suggesting to board the abandoned trireme, but Lykos remembered too well their very first encounter with the Dream Pirates. He would not repeat that mistake.
It came out of the shadow if his own ship.
First an utterly black prow emerged, seemingly from under the water surface, its darkness swallowing the light around it. It was a monstrous structure, covered with thorns and blades, suitable to destroy another ship's hull upon collision. In mere seconds, though to Lykos it felt like several minutes, the entire vessel had grown out of nothing, looming now threatening at the trireme's left side; it seemed so much larger than Lykos remembered. The soldiers backed off, the tension having returned, bringing with it a well-known fear. So, there would be a battle after all.
Captain Lykos was about to give his orders, when shouts from somewhere behind him, from the other two ship, diverted his attention. With dread in his heart he watched as two more black ships appeared next to his other triremes. It had been a trap!
"Prepare yourselves!" He called to his men, hiding his own anxiousness from them to steel their hearts. "We all know this enemy, we have defeated him before, and he shall fare no better this time!" It was truly heartening to hear them unleash a deafening battle-cry as a response, and Lykos smiled grimly.
Things however did not proceed as expected.
Like an assassin's dagger, the blades of the black ship thrust at the trireme, easily penetrating the wooden hull. The impact almost threw Lykos off his feet, but he managed to catch himself, holding on to one of the sail's ropes. He could hear the wood cracking, the planks breaking upon impact, and the trireme shook one more time. Realizing the danger, Lykos ran portside to check on the damaged hull, a few soldier following his example. He watched as the blades retreated again, leaving behind several large holes, most at or below sea-level. Water was rushing in through them; the trireme would sink within a few minutes.
"Abandon ship! Everyone, get on the enemy's trireme!"
As the entire trireme tilted to one side, the soldiers didn't need much encouragement to get off, leaping over the narrow distance, separating the two ships. Lykos was among the last to leave the ship, having to run across the deck, which was quite the task; by now the trireme was almost lying on its side. With both hands, he grabbed the railing, and pulled himself up. Someone screamed behind him. He looked around, watching that a handful of his men hadn't made it, all of them rowers from below deck. `They fell into the water while the ship kept sinking, the created wake pulling them along into the deep. If Lykos didn't want to end like them he needed to get off now. He climbed on the hull, now that the trireme was completely on its side, and jumped. Barely he managed to land on the enemy's ship railing, but given his momentum he staggered and rolled onto the deck.
"Captain, watch out!"
Lykos had not even gotten on his feet, when something black dashed towards him, the outcry of his crewman coming just in time. He swiftly drew his blade and blocked the vicious attack of a Fearling, its blade stopping centimeters short of his forehead. From his armor, he drew a dagger, though having removed one hand from the sword's hilt, the black blade now touched upon his skin. With a quick movement of his wrist, Lykos threw the dagger and it hit its target in the chest. Cracks of white light showed on the black surface, the Fearling screeched and disappeared into thin air.
Finally the Captain got to his feet, and used the few seconds he had to get a general idea of the current situation. Despite feeling warm, and sweating due to recent activities, all color left Lykos' face in a matter of seconds. The other two triremes were sinking before his eyes, the survivors struggling against the Dream Pirates. Lykos had enough experience to see that this battle was lost. He was defeated.
There was nothing left to do, other than selling their lives as costly as possible. It was then that Lykos saw him. A man walked up the stairs to the rear of the supply ship, this Fearlings around him, preventing any soldier from coming too close, and he was dressed in the black that so reminiscent of the shadows. There was something about this man, something that sent shivers down his spine just by looking at him. It was unnatural, and almost every instinct of his body told Lykos to get away as far and as fast as possible. But there was something else. After all, what was a human being doing with Dream Pirates? Could this person be leading them, but who had the strength and ability to control thousands of spirits? If that was true, killing this man could be the only chance of still winning this battle, and saving his men's lives.
Lykos' blade cut through another Fearling, and rushed after the stranger. A few shadow tried to get in his way, a few of their blades leaving superficial wounds as he fought his way through them. Most however were too busy, dealing with the soldiers. A Nightmare Man appeared out of nothing, a spear going for Lykos' chest. He reacted before even fully realizing the situation, leaning his upper body out of the way. His blade came up, severing the Nightmare Man's hand from its arms, a second slice, cutting the upper body in half. Finally Lykos made it up the staircase.
The tall man stood at the rear, overviewing the battle, and to the Captain's horror, three Atlantian soldier laid dead at his feet. The man's armor looked like Lykos' own, but utterly in black and instead of a cloak, he wore a long, open coat over it. His face was hidden by a wide hood, concealing his entire face except for a slender chin. Cautiously Lykos approached him; he had no doubt that this would be his most challenging fight yet. Even though the eyes were hidden by the hood, Lykos could feel their gaze upon him. In the man's pale, white-grey hand grew a black scythe, made of shadows. Its shape looked exactly like Kozmotis' old weapon.
"Who are you?" Lykos had his sword raised, ready for combat.
His opponent didn't answer him, instead swung his weapon against the Captain. Lykos caught it with his blade, but the force pushed him to the side. Despite his slender appearance, there was great force behind the stranger's attack. "Captain Lykos Sagittarius." He finally spoke, with a strangely familiar voice. "I did not expect to run into you so early."
"You know my name?" Lykos snarled back, trying to push the enemy's weapon away from him, to launch an attack of his own. The half-moon shaped blade was slightly pushed to the side.
Swiftly, and with only the tip of the scythe's blade did his opponent deflect the stab, originally aimed at his chest. "I know a lot about you, Captain." He spoke in almost a casual manner, each movement executed calmly as if their duel was nothing but a negligibility to him. It greatly aggravated Lykos, who was already breathing rather heavily after fighting his way through the Dream Pirates.
And now this man claimed to know him. "How?" There was no answer, only the next attack, and once more, Lykos was being pushed back. The scythe moved fast, faster than it was to be expected from a large weapon like that. Then again, a weapon consisting of shadows was probably much lighter than one made of steel. "You have freed the shadows, have you not?"
"Naturally." The other man stated with a matter-of-fact voice.
"Then you have killed my brother!" Suddenly Lykos dashed forward, with every intent to kill this man, when the upper, and thankfully dull side of the scythe's blade, hit him against the right scapular, rendering his attack useless. The pain shot through his entire body, momentarily dulling all his other senses.
His opponent took him by the collar, pulling Lykos closer to him. "Oh no, not exactly." With surprising force, Captain Sagittarius was being pushed back, until his back hit the nearby railing.
"What do you mean by that?!" He was gasping for air, trying to ignore the pain, pressing his teeth together.
The stranger took his hood with one hand, and pulled it down. Lykos almost let the sword slip his hand, his eyes widening, his mouth opened, though he found himself unable to form words at first. When he could, he said it quietly; it little more than a whisper. "Impossible." He stammered. "No, no can't be."
His shock was all his opponent needed to disarm him with the next strike, the sword being smashed out of his limb fingers. It landed somewhere, blade first, on the deck. "Oh, but it is." Pitch purred, and chuckled. He raised the scythe again…
Lykos only stared at his brother, his lifelong friend in utter disbelieve, not grasping the danger he was in. He no longer heard the ongoing battle behind him, or felt the wound the scythe had inflicted on his hand when he'd been disarmed. Whoever this man was, it couldn't be Kozmotis Pitchiner. It had to be a trick, and illusion the Dream Pirates had created. Lykos didn't even realize that the scythe was coming towards him again.
Suddenly, the dark blade was brought down, and it buried itself into his body, just below the sternum.
Lykos gasped for air, the intense pain knocking him out of his trance. He inhaled sharply at the pain, but continued to stare at Pitch, with a shocked expression, even as the tip of the blade broke out of his back. Each heartbeat pumped new blood out of his wound, and it began to run down his chest and back, as he sunk to his knees. Pitch kept his weapon in position, not bothering to pull it out and strike again, as if he wanted Lykos to bleed out. A horrible grin spread over his pale face, the eyes now shimmering golden, displaying unfeeling cruelty. Was he taking delight in Lykos shock and suffering? The Captain's body began to shiver, a terrifying coldness spread in his limbs, and he began to feel dizzy. Slowly he put his still bleeding hand on the scythe's blade, as if he wanted to pull it out himself. But he didn't have the strength any longer. Drops of blood now ran from his lip, and he coughed weakly. "Kozmotis..." Lykos managed to whisper, before his eyes rolled and closed. His body collapsed to the side, and only now did Pitch remove his blade.
He watched unmoved how Lykos' body twitched a few more times before it laid still, the blood covering the floor around him. Pitch had just begun, and already he Golden Fleet had lost one of her Captains. This was going well.
The night was clear and peaceful, with barely any wind. Photios was a true stronghold, the town, including its great harbor surrounded by five meter thick walls. Two dozen triremes of the Golden Fleet stood ready to repeal any attack from sea, some inside the harbor, the others forming a semicircle as the first line of defense in front of the massive harbor gates. Some said that Photios was a smaller version of the capital.
Civilians of all nearby islands had come to this place, counting on the Golden Fleet to protect them, and the island had become quite crowded. Still, there was an anxious silence over the town. Guards patrolled the walls, or manned the watchtowers, their armors' golden ornaments shimmering even in the darkness, waiting for the anticipated arrival of the black ships. No one was considering the Dream Pirates to arrive by another way; after all during the previous war it had shown that while they could travel some distance through shadows, they were limited, their ships having to come in close proximity to the chosen target. Before they could attack the Photios, the black ships would be discovered by the Golden Fleet.
They could not know that things had changed.
Pitch was far more powerful, than any Fearling or Nightmare Man, by far exceeding their abilities, and this he put to good use. Four soldiers were sitting in a watchtower, playing games to fight against the boredom, when a sudden powerful breeze dispersed their cards, and extinguished the flame of the two torches in the small room. There was some annoyed grumbling, and none of them saw that the same had happened to the tower next to them as well, no light shining from its windows any longer. As one went to lit them again, the other three began to pick up the cards. Four Fearlings appeared in the darkness, invisible except for their sharp white eyes, unnoticed by the soldiers. Their weapons pierced their victims' lungs almost simultaneously, preventing any noise that could have betrayed their arrival. Soundlessly the Fearlings piled the bodies in one corner of the room, the exact same happening in every tower along the wall.
There had been the chance that the guards patrolling along said wall could have noticed something, had not more Dream Pirates taken care of them in much the same way. The only noise had been the quick and quiet sound of a blades, which went unheard into the night, a few gasps, when the last breezes of air escaped the soldier's lungs and the brief rattle, as their weapons hit the ground. In less than a minute over a hundred soldiers of Atlantis had been killed without a soul noticing. The Golden Fleet was still waiting for the Black Ships that would never arrive.
The majority of soldiers were sleeping in the barracks, located at the harbor, sleeping peacefully like the rest of the unsuspecting town. Fifty men were sharing a single room, lying on cots, their armors and weapons just next to them in arm's reach. From the deepest shadows under the cots they came, like Thanatos' and Ker's little helpers, and once there was a Dream Pirate next to every sleeping human, the dark creatures raised their blades. In perfect synchronicity they brought them down, the swords cutting through flesh effortlessly. As the cots were being soaked by blood, the Fearlings disappeared again, to repeat the slaughter in the next room. It wasn't long until there was no soldier left alive in the barracks. Still, no alarm was sound.
A few guards were patrolling the streets as well, in pairs of two. Two of them were walking along the empty streets close to the agora, carrying lances, one holding a lamp, the small flame protected from the winds by glass. When they passed a dark alley they were suddenly dragged into the darkness, strong and merciless hands tearing at them unyielding, as long claws ended their lives. Only the breaking glass echoed in the night.
Still hours before dawn there was not a single soldier or mage left on Photios, except for those on the ships. The Captain in charge was of the house Aries, and awake despite the late hour, as the man was plagued with insomnia. His weary eyes were examining the map on his desk, the northern half of Atlantis' realm having been drawn upon the parchment with great care and a good eye for details. With black ink the island of Hesperos had been crossed out, which so recently had been attack by the Dream Pirates. A young officer named Thaddeus had brought news of the attack and the survivors along with him. He was surprised to learn that his Captain had not made it to Photios, the closest stronghold to Hesperos, before him. Given that Captain Sagittarius had been in pursued of the Dream Pirates, most feared the worst at this point, and Aries knew that it was only a matter of time until this island would be attacked.
He rubbed his eyes; perhaps he would finally find some sleep tonight.
With soundless steps Pitch entered the cabin through a shadow upon the wall behind the Captain. He smiled, sensing the fear underlining the man's every thought, relishing the feeling for a moment. Of course the entire island had been infected with it. Pitch let a dagger appear in his hand, the blade long and slightly curved. All it took was one clean slice through the throat, nearly severing the head from the shoulder. The Captain's eye widened in surprise and shock, blood running from his lips, more being pumped out by his still beating heart through the cut. Eventually his upper body collapsed as death took him.
Pitch had disappeared in shadows again, before the Captain's head hit the table. Outside on the ships his Dream Pirates were finishing off the last soldiers. Photios had been taken in less than an hour, without a battle; and the civilians slept, unaware of the slaughter.
Dark clouds had gathered over Atlantis, and the thunder roared ominously in the sky. The council hall had to be illuminated by oil-lamps and candles, even though it was midday. Nereus Scorpio remembered standing before the council with Kozmotis Pitchiner, following their very first encounter with the Dream Pirates. Today however, he stood alone on the Atlantian Tree's mosaic, standing before the Constellations like a culprit. Captains and officers were sitting behind them, like the nobles conversing quietly with one another. The Golden Fleet's ranks had notably thinned in past weeks; no enemy before had ever posed such a threat in Atlantis entire existence.
Finally one of the nobles rose from his seat. "High General Nereus Scorpio." King Taurus' voice brought every conversation to an end. "Give us a full report; how could this all happen?"
What could he say, when he couldn't even fully explain it to himself? Yet nothing in his voice betrayed his doubt or the shame he felt, Scorpio giving himself stern and confident as always. "Lords of Atlantis, the enemy is at our doorstep, and I take responsibility. We still don't know how exactly they have escaped their prison, but their behavior, their tactics have changed greatly. They boarded the supply ship for Umbra, and used it to sail undetected into our harbors. Strangely however, despite the slaughter they've caused on each island they came to, they've always left survivors, more each time and disposed of any enchanted weapon."
"Have you an explanation for this?" Lord Solar asked him.
"The disposing of the weapons is self-explanatory, as for the survivors." For a moment he thought about the second part of his answer. "It would seem that the Dream Pirates kill almost exclusively those they deem a threat; in the latest attack, women and children were completely spared."
Tsar Lunar frowned, his fingers running over his chin, as he regarded the High General thoughtfully. "Why would they show mercy?" He questioned aloud.
"Perhaps so the survivors would spread fear amongst our people." Libra theorized. "Successfully so, I might add."
Unfortunately his Lordship was correct, and Scorpio nodded once, very stiffly. "There have been several reports of a man, a human apparently, who is leading the shadows. If these reports are correct, it is perhaps him, ordering the Dream Pirates to spare our people. I also suspect that it was him, who freed them in the first place, should he indeed exist." Should he get his hands on that bastard, Scorpio would let him suffer; none of his shadows could help him then. "The people have come to refer to him as Moros, and the success of the Dream Pirates is diminishing their courage." There was some whispering among the nobles, their facing showing concern.
It was then that Lord Leon asked the question, which had been on everyone's mind. "Even if that is the truth, how did a stranger defeat the Golden Fleet and stand before our gates after such a short time?"
Scorpio had known this question would come, and as he answered he returned Lord Leon's grim stare in kind. "For once the Dream Pirates have attacked our strongholds by unknown means, ambushed the soldiers in their sleep, and only landed on the few islands on their way from Umbra to Atlantis they actually had to pass. I suspect that Captain Lykos Sagittarius, who was the first to fall in our efforts to stop them, had been forced to tell of our plans and strongholds' exact locations. Secondly, they now use their ships to sink our own. Somehow they have learned to use the same shape shifting abilities their bodies have with their vessels, destroying our triremes' hulls with rams and blade–like structures. The sages have tried to protect the ships, but they are always among the first to die, rendering their spells void." He took a deep breath, his expression grim, as his eyes now traveled along the nobles. "Most of our fleet has been destroyed at this point, all remaining soldiers and sages have gathered here at the capital for a final stand. Here they will meet the entire might of the sages' guild, and here we will defeat the shadows."
"And if not?" It was a question no one wanted to learn the answer to, or even consider, and it brought utter uncomfortable silence with it; frankly it was a rhetorical one.
Still, the High General eventually answered it, his voice cool and factual, echoing low through the council hall. "Then it will be the end of Atlantis."
How many years had it been? The white city was reflecting the late afternoon sun, the colorful banners swaying in the wind in defiance. Standing out most of all was none of the individual Constellational houses' banners but that of Atlantis itself, the great white tree with golden leaves on a dark blue ground. Two of these banners, larger than a trireme's sail flanked the entry to the harbor, the great portal now closed. Due to the wall, enclosing the bay like a half-moon's sickle, it was the only entrance to the capital from the sea, at least for a human fleet.
But Pitch hadn't brought mortals with him, no, instead the Dream Pirates were awaiting his command. As there was no longer the need to fool the Golden Fleet, the last remnants now having gathered in Atlantis' harbor, the black ships were no forming a blockade around the outer side of the wall. Other Dream Pirates were lurking on land, in the shadows of the surrounding forest, preventing anyone from escaping the capital. Their resistance would come to an end tonight, and the knowledge necessary to fight the shadows would be lost once and for all. After tonight, no more blood would need to flow anymore. Pitch had to admit that he was looking forward to the end of this war. Even if it seemed so, he took no pleasure in killing. No, it was the fear of his victims just before their death he enjoyed so much; it was so pure, so powerful. The killing was simply something he had to do, something he didn't really care for, which was why he let the Fearlings do most of the work.
One of said Fearling snaked up behind him, keeping quite some space. "Your orders, Nightmare King?" It hissed.
"We attack at nightfall, same as always; ambush and as soon as they resist retreat back to the shadows and seek for another opportunity. Leave civilians unharmed, target only mages and soldiers."
"They will no longer fear us, when they realize that we spare them."
Pitch glared at the Fearling, making it back off even further, its substance shivering, as it cowered closer to the ground. "Do not dare to lecture me, Fearling! There is more to fear than the fear of death." He snarled at his servant. "Besides: the dead don't fear at all. We do not need to kill those, who mean us no harm."
"We do as you command." As Pitch turned his gaze back to the city, the Fearling merged with the ship again to wait for the order.
Already the day was nearing its end, the sun's light turning more red by the minute. Soon it was time to strike. With one of his hands he stroke over a large thorn-like structure growing crooked from the deck, rubbing his temple with his other's fingers. Pitch had these headaches from time to time, usually shortly before or after a battle. His worst had been after killing this first Captain, Lykos Sagittarius. Sure, he'd known him from before becoming the Nightmare King, but he didn't quite understand why that should affect him. After all this man had been nothing but another enemy. Perhaps this pain was only the result of the small wounds he'd received from the blessed blades; considering that Pitch's body was still partly human, he probably healed differently from the Dream Pirates and was overall differently affect. Maybe after the coming battle Pitch would no longer suffer this pain.
It had taken weeks, but finally he was strong enough to take on even the sages of the guild. Pitch knew he could not succeed without a terrified population, which fright strengthened him. Even now he could sense the fear wash over him like a fresh breeze. A malicious smile spread over his ashen face. Tonight, Atlantis would be falling.
Characters from the original books: Kozmotis Pitchiner/Pitch Black, Lady (Amina) Pitchiner, Emily Jane Pitchiner, Ombric Shalazar, Tsar & Tsarina Lunar, Tsar (Badr) Lunar/MiM, Sandman (Chrysos), Nightlight (Zopyros), Typhan, Dream Pirates/Fearlings/Nightmare Men
Pitch Black: Writing Pitch is admittedly difficult for several reasons: I had to find a combination of Kozmotis' personality and the Fearlings, which had to be reminiscent of the character presented in the movie, and at this point in the story Kozmotis is still resisting a little. Also I wanted him to remember his past, which he needed to in order to defeat his former allies, while his thoughts are twisted by the Fearlings to give Pitch more reason to seek revenge in the first place; also as far as I understand he remembers who he was in the books.
I had Pitch show mercy for two reasons: as written earlier he's a combination of Kozmotis and Fearlings, and Kozmotis would have never laid a finger on the innocent. Secondly, in the movie Pitch struck me more as someone who would only kill if it was necessary. Debatable, surely, but while he did "kill" Sandy, who he needed to dispose of in order for his plans to succeed, he let Jack live, as it was sufficient to take the source of his powers.
Thanatos and Ker: Both are from Greek mythology again, the latter is a female death-spirit, associated with/personification of violent death; sometimes the name is used for a group of death-spirits, the Keres. Thanatos is the daemon personification of death, one of Ker's brothers, often portrayed as hateful towards mortal and the deathless gods alike.
It should be noted that daemons were originally benevolent spirits, beings between gods and mortals. Sometimes the gods themselves were referred to as daemons. Later they were divided into benevolent and malevolent, mediating the good and ill fortunes of human life. Daemons were only associated with evil, once the term was being used to translate the Hebrew words for idols, foreign gods, ect.
Moros: In Greek mythology he is the personification of impending doom, who drives mortals to their deadly fate