All right, feels like forever since I've updated, but that's probably because I've drawn so much lately and the majority of my musergy has been directed towards drawing… so yeah. It's all on DeviantArt. My profile page has the link.
I want to thank all the reviewers over this time, and especially welcome StoppingTheMotorOfTheWorld! Your review has been very informative, and what a name you have! To answer your question: yes I do feel very honoured to have such long and nice reviews. My love goes out to all you reviewers!
I've hesitated in doing this but… according to tradition (of my own), each new original character is dedicated to someone. As Falcon is to Phreno, Leaf is to LadyElfdragon, I'd like to dedicate Nyhl to Emmelyn Cindy Mah. Just… calm down a little, Emmy. Don't tackle him to the ground and… yeah.
Right, let's see how this one works out. Sorry about this being short, but it just seems like the right place to finish.
Disclaimer: Blizzard owns Diablo. I don't own jack except for this fruit of unproductiveness.
Chapter 26
Behind the Smile
We cremated Falcon's bones on an unusually sunny day.
It was barely a ceremony; the ones who attended were Oread, Meshif, Leaf, Nyhl and me. I saw Oread looking at Nyhl questioningly, but Nyhl either did not notice, or just chose to ignore her.
It was a silent ritual. No tears, no eulogy, no prayers.
It was almost as if the world had forgotten the Druidess' former existence.
The wind was blowing towards the sea. When we scattered her ashes, the wind carried them far into the distance. The sunlight glittered golden on the dark water, like Falcon's life force bouncing off the ocean with radiant energy.
Nyhl mumbled something and did a gesture with his right hand, which was still heavily bandaged and must have hurt him to move. Oread interrogated him with her eyes again.
"It's only respectful to apologise and wish them peace in the afterlife when we've used their bodies for our own selfish means." Nyhl explained.
"I didn't know that Necromancers have morals when it comes to dealing with the dead." Oread said with a hint of sneer.
Nyhl smiled and turned his eyes to her. "We mightn't be as immoral as you'd think."
Oread said "Hmph!" and turned back towards the sea.
Nyhl was an interesting person to get to know; it had been two weeks since we found him, and he had gone against almost every single expectation I had of him.
Firstly, he did not speak with any unfamiliar vocabulary, nor did he have a peculiar speech pattern – those were the stereotypes I had of Necromancers: more of an Ormus-type, I suppose. He was unfailingly polite, however, and used very proper words. Though that does not mean that he could not hide a biting remark inside a literally-neutral statement, especially when it came to speaking to Natalya.
Secondly, he was very careless with his life. Not in the same way as Oread, but… he drank a lot of potions.
"I can't waste my time just staying here," such was his excuse. "I have an assignment to complete and someone that I need to attend to."
Oread stared in a rather explicitly improper way, but I thought she must have intended that. "Uh, you are aware that drinking so many potions –"
"Shortens my lifespan. I know." Nyhl replied neutrally. "I figured that the time wasted to recover without potions would be more than the amount my life is shortened by if I used them."
Oread snorted and kept staring. "You're an idiot."
Nyhl looked Oread in the eyes and, realising that she did not fully comprehend what he had said, shrugged casually. "It works."
That was the third thing – He seemed to be immune to Oread's rude tongue. It was probably because of this that Oread talked to him a lot; at least, much more than what she would to another new acquaintance. She wanted a reaction from him, but he did not give it to her, and it frustrated her. I think the battle began all the way back when he first woke up and saw her. I remember the way she wore the shadow of a pout long after she left his chamber.
"However did you become a warrior?" Asked Oread, somewhat exasperated. It was not as if she had any right to speak, considering the way she handled self-preservation.
"I'm only a novice." Nyhl said with the consistent neutral tone. "Though I suppose I can give you an idea of my proximity to becoming a warrior, if you'd allow it."
"For now, you can't do anything even if I do allow you to, Necromancer." Oread's tone was smug.
"But do you?"
"Do I what?" The annoyer had become the annoyed. I knew I should not be glad in my master's expense, but this amused me.
"Do you allow me?"
"But… what the heck? Your body's still stuffed up. You can barely move your right arm." Oread was calming down a little, her grin again creeping back to her face.
"I'm left-handed." Nyhl's eyes locked onto Oread's face; and to complete the scene, he added an infuriatingly cheerful smile.
"I'll see you tomorrow at dawn, Necromancer!" Oread managed to control her tone, but not her volume. She stormed out of his room. As I followed her from behind I took a last glance at Nyhl, and noted the satisfactory look on his face as he swallowed the last of his potion.
When we arrived at the room that Nyhl shared with Cain the following morning, he was fully dressed in a light set of armour that looked new. While he previously had tied it back loosely – probably due to his right arm's immobility – today his raven hair was pulled back neatly into a low ponytail. He was strapping his right arm up with thick bandages when we went into the room. He turned toward us, his spectacles catching the faint light, and gestured for us to be quiet, nodding at the sound-asleep Cain.
After picking up his weapons from one side of his bed, he ushered us out of the room and closed the door without a sound.
"Good morning." He greeted. I returned the greeting.
"You look a lot better than you did yesterday." Oread stated. This was true – he looked more energised and his colour was better. "Just how many potions did you scull?"
"I just paid Alkor for something strong, that's all."
"Well, speaking of which, take this," Oread handed him a Town Portal scroll. "You better pay me back, though. I just don't want to carry you back this time."
"Thanks." Nyhl pocketed the scroll. The weapons that he carried in his left hand caught my attention – the two blades that he kept the other day: a slim sword about three feet long and a dagger with a broad, curved blade. He tied both to the left side of his belt. On the other side of the belt was the jewelled skull ornament that he had also picked out.
"Since when did Necromancers fight with swords?" Oread inquired with genuine curiosity. "I thought their primary weapons were enchanted wands."
"These aren't my primary weapons." He lifted his head. "The humidity's high. The insects aren't calling – it's not gonna be very hot today, so the sea breeze won't be strong enough to move the clouds away. The rain clouds above us are only going to build up. When rain comes, it'll bucket down on us." He turned back to us. "Let's get going before that happens."
My jaw dropped. Oread's eyes were as wide as I had ever seen them.
"H-How'd you figure out so much with that eyesight?" Oread stammered.
Nyhl shrugged. "Observation isn't directly related to eyesight."
We had left a Portal open from when we were last hunting down Khalim's relics. It led to the Kurast Bazaar – the centre of Kurast's former glamour.
I cast Inner Sight and scanned the area; we had killed many just two days ago, but some monsters from further inland had already made their way here. There fresh trails lingers upon the ground and the walls of the ruined architecture as slimy strands and drips of aura.
"There're some close by." I turned to Oread, "Should we wait here or –"
I was stopped short when Nyhl came into my scene of auras. The colour was as I remembered when I first saw him – a bright, but deep blue. Though what shocked me was its appearance.
The glow of his aura only extended about a foot from his body, unlike Oread's, which reached about three feet. The energy distribution also looks very thin – his aura was very transparent, yet there was solidity about it. It stayed very still, with no noticeable fluctuations.
I had never seen such controlled energy before, except perhaps that of Akara's; still, Akara's aura was a lot more opaque.
"Let's move on." Oread replied, dismissing the incompleteness of my speech. "It won't be a long day, if the Necromancer's right."
So we navigated further from the Kurast Bazaar. The monsters that we encountered were not unfamiliar to Oread and me – polearm-wielding monsters with bodies of men, their skin darkened by soil and soot and gore that festered beneath their skin, their heads totally obscured by a full golden helm shaped like the head of a pained animal. Their tattered clothes suggested that they were once holy men of authority, but had since then fallen to this state of cursed limbo.
We shot them down from a distance. They did not come altogether, so it was quite easy picking for Oread and me. Meanwhile, Nyhl busied himself by looking around constantly.
"These walls are badly fractured." He commented as Oread kicked a corpse to confirm its death. "They can take damage from the inside, but if anything attacked them from the other side, they'll probably just fall in."
"Why on earth would you be thinking about tha –" Oread's voice was cut off by a loud crash. Two Thorned Hulks – such were the common names of the tree-like beasts – smashed their way through the walls to our right. They must have been in the forests enveloping the Bazaar.
"Damn you Necromancer! You jinxed us!" Oread scolded as she backed away while firing at the monsters.
"Just goes to show that I was right, doesn't it?" Nyhl grinned as he moved alongside us. He was still leaving Oread and me to do the fighting. Though I suppose no close-range warrior would like to get too close to these monsters.
"Guys! Stop arguing!" I interrupted. "There're more coming in through the fallen wall!" The polearm-wielders were moving in, and there was a swamp of them – by the time the Thorned Hulks laid dead, we were surrounded by these faster foes.
Oread and I fired like mad. The Bazaar was structured with corridors, and the twists and turns made it extremely difficult to navigate through them backwards.
When the monsters got within ten feet of us, Oread reached for her spear; but before she could even get it into the right position in her hands, Nyhl strode forward.
With his right hand, he slid his slim blade from its sheath, and carried the motion through as he slit the throat of one foe.
Another one moved in from the left. Nyhl spun around and with a swift turn of the wrist, sank the blade easily between the ribs and straight through the heart.
With that one collapsing, the monster behind it became visible. As it swung its huge axe down, the Necromancer moved aside. The blade whisked past his face. Gripping this short period of time before the axe can be raised again, Nyhl launched his thin sword forward; the tip of it entered through a small slit in the helm, probably where the left eye was, and plunged threw the skull, the back of the helm and into the stone wall beyond.
Nyhl's face contorted as he let go of the blade; it stayed there, nailing the dead monster's head onto the wall.
"OWWW!" He hollered as his left hand closed around his right forearm.
Oread stepped forward while I was still dazed. She stabbed through the guts of a monster, before yelling at Nyhl. "What'd you do?"
"I didn't know the wall was that close!" Nyhl was gritting his teeth. "I didn't plan to stab into a bloody stone wall! I think the force from doing so had just opened up some healing fractures or something."
"You retard!" Oread was angry. "I thought you said you're left-handed!"
"I'm also near-sighted!" Nyhl said in defence, as he yanked the sword out of the wall with his left hand, flicked the blood off it and sheathed it.
"No, you're just blind!" Oread charged her spear with lightning, and slashed it across the chests of two monsters.
"Okay… that was a stupid comeback on my behalf. Forgive my inanity."
In the meanwhile, I was standing behind them, trying to ease the situation at hand. I was so focus on the scene in front of me, that I did not consider what my Inner Sight show me in other directions.
When I heard the sound of a blade moving up behind me, and the draught that it carried, the chill went all the way down to my fingertips.
"Celadon!" Oread cried as I tried to turn around and unsheathe the short sword at the same time.
Then came the flash.
A flash of blue filled the proximity of my magically-enhanced vision. Then came five projectiles of the same brilliant blue. If I was not mistaken, they were shaped like thin, long, pointy cones.
Like fangs.
The sound of flesh being torn and bones being shattered; blood splashed onto my head and back. I moved out of the way as the glaive fell onto the stone floor with a low ring.
"Move away, Celadon!" Nyhl's voice was controlled but commanding; I ran back towards my master. Nyhl's left hand was outstretched, his entire arm and upper torso enveloped by a thick, dense coat of spiritual energy.
His eyes narrowed as I felt a shockwave leave him. The force reached the bloody corpse on the floor, currently being trampled by its advancing comrades.
There was a moment of absolute stillness, before the force within the body was let loose all at once. A loud and solid, almost metallic bang, and fine droplets of blood splashed all over me.
Within a ten-foot radius of the corpse, now naught but a bloody pile of mashed pulp, monsters laid dead and maimed. The scene was simply horrific. If I had food in my stomach, I would have thrown it up with so much force that it would probably come out of my ears.
Oread shot dead the maimed few as Nyhl turned around, and cast the terrible spell again to the monsters on the other side. Except this time he did it with four corpses. I cringed and probably whimpered out loud as I was again washed with blood. I felt Oread's arms close around me. I shut my eyes tightly.
Then everything was motionless. I opened my eyes to Nyhl's back. He turned around; his face and body was speckled and streaked and dripping red; his bangs were stuck together in strings by the blood.
"This is messy; I'm sorry." He took off his spectacles and tried to wipe them, but only managed to smear the blood more. He sighed, and smiled apologetically. "I wouldn't have used it if it weren't such a tight situation."
He did the same parting gesture to the bloody pulp all over the floor and the walls as that which he used to farewell Falcon, again with his right hand, and then he looked at me. I was shaking all over, and my eyes must have been so very wide. Oread was still holding me; she, too, was speechless.
"Sorry about scaring you, Celadon." He nodded, again in apology. "I guess I should have warned you."
All right, he was good. He was a great person to have as an ally.
But to me, at least, anyone who can kill so elegantly, move so decidedly, and smile so artlessly after doing what he did is just… not normal.
