Chapter 1.
The sinful, ungodly urge itself should have been well enough to make the knight turn back. Her duty of reclaiming Order in The Lands Between had brought her all the way to the Royal Capital, flawlessly guided by the intuition of her. Oh, her maiden, faithfully by her side since years back and for countless more to come. The day they had been brought together, both of them young and inexperienced but dutifully trained, had been like a dream come true. Oh, how wise she was despite her youthfulness, how graceful and warm-hearted… And so beautiful. But oh, how highly immoral to think of such things, when ordershould be her only ambition! But maybe, someday, she and her maiden would have an accord of a different nature, and travel the lands as both crusaders and lovers…
That, in her naïveté, she believed.
The old sewer system of the capital was inhabited by something or someone abnormally sinister. Her maiden had never been so certain, and never would she send her knight down into such a vile, disgusting place if she was not. 'Deep, deep down, someone is residing, someone who has taken the role of a false lord', she had said gravely, putting her hand on the knight's arm to emphasize the severity of her words. 'You need to obliterate them.' The knight nodded. 'But, as always… I know you will succeed. You, if anyone, will.' The knight felt no fear. She knew her maiden's judgment to be correct, her strengthening guidance to be sufficient and thus she had no reason to fret.
'I'll pray for your safe return… My knight.' The knight never liked leaving her behind, but a Grace would without error turn one invisible to monsters and ensure a safe respite. Most people who came upon one on their travels would want nothing more than to sit down, rest their feet, eat, sleep or just take their minds off the atrocities that roamed the Lands tirelessly. And would someone with wretched intentions invade that sacred space, she would be wise enough to call upon her spectral steed and get out of there. The knight had not to worry.
'Oh, and…' Just as the knight was about to leave, her maiden spoke again. 'As soon as you are done… Return to me. Do not go beyond the creature's chambers.' 'Of course', the knight had said before heading into the gutter.
Her predictions had been painfully correct. It was an arduous struggle in itself to find her way to the bottom, the horrendous swarms of grotesque foes dwelling there only rivaled by the rancid stench. The knight was appalled to find a chapel there, how unspeakably foul, how absurd for anyone to play lord down here in the shunning-grounds! He was huge, horned, his robes soaked in blood and grime. And he had no patience for a meddling Finger Order knight.
Alas, the knight was a force to be reckoned with, fuelled by her unfaltering faith she fought him until she struck her colossal battle staff to his head and crushed the skull so that it caved in on itself and became his demise.
It was over. The mission was well accomplished, and all she had to do was to stride back up through the slew of corpses she had left in her wake. However…
There was something more that she needed to do. She could feel it, even without her maiden present, beyond the foul Lord's throne. Curiously peering past it she found that true enough, there was a narrow pathway there, completely shrouded in darkness save for the faintest, red glow flickering noiselessly somewhere deep down the abyss.
Whatever it was, it was important. Very important. Up until this day, she had not once questioned her partner's judgment, but having no way of advising her she had to trust in her own instinct this time. To be fair, it would have been a lie to say that the knight even reasoned with herself, as the ember compelled her to venture into the darkness. There was something there… For her…
The deeper she went, the more restive her mind grew. The transition was unnoticeable in its finesse, but where the knight had begun her descent through the isolated hollow carefully, watching every step cautiously, she soon maneuvered the haphazardly allotted wooden boards with manic precision. The impulsion brought her all the way to the bottom of the catacomb, where she was greeted by a grand stone door, strange light emanating from it, albeit completely sealed shut.
Her hands fumbled for a handle, a seal, something that would have the gate opened. She needed to get in. Driven purely by instinct at this point, she bore no notice of where her hands traveled, looking for a way in…
She was removing her clothes. Her limbs moved by themselves as she purposefully took off piece after piece of her armour and let it fall to the floor with dull clunks, her cape she discarded thoughtlessly on the floor, eventually even her undergarments were stripped from her body and she stood there completely in the flesh.
With an ominous rumble, the door opened.
Something moved. Then, creeping, it came into view. It was a hand, large as a full-grown horse, spider-like in its movements, disgusting hairs protruding the knuckles like antennae. The red glow poured from the scars of its blemished skin. Could this be… The Two Fingers? The fingers, interpreters of The Greater Will and catalyst for the Souls of the great Demi-Gods. Had she just now slain a Demi-God? That couldn't be true. The hand crept closer, stretching out its long, slender digits towards her.
The hand had three fingers. Three.
Her body had become numb. Her heartbeat was deafening as the hand looked at her, she did not know how, but it was eyeing her down to the very core of her soul. She did not flinch as it slowly reached out and wrapped itself closely around her naked body. It was far too late to try to fight it, the temptation had overtaken her as soon as the battle with the demon was over. This must have been what she wanted, this was the something waiting for her beyond the altar.
The fingers' heat seared her flesh, but she would not scream. Their embrace suffocated her, but she would not succumb. Her eyes were on fire, but she could still see. She did not know that they burned bright yellow.
She was in a state of complete ecstasy.
As the fingers eventually released her from their grip, it was like it had drunk what strength she had left, and she sank to the floor like a discarded rag. When she woke up she found herself to be above ground again, her armour back on her body, weapon by her side. How…? She could perceive a faint aftermath of the feverish state, but suddenly it was hard to believe it to have been nothing but a bad dream. Alas, upon removing her gauntlets, she saw that the skin of her left hand was black as soot. Oh, it had been real! Something had changed in her and in that instant the knowledge that used to be so obvious to her, implemented in her every quest, flashed through her mind with an intensity that made her nauseous.
The Two Fingers of Order.
And… The Three Fingers of Chaos.
She knew that she desperately needed help.
Her maiden was waiting by the Grace, unharmed. Thank Gods. She would know what to do, how to reverse this, she would heal her wounds and-
'Don't come closer.' The knight's body froze, reflexively halted by the words, although her ears would first not register their meaning.
'You have committed an atrocious sin. I can smell it, the chaos, its putrid stench on your body.' Her voice was as cold as ice, it bore no hate but an unyielding determination that made the fiery passion of hatred seem preferable. 'I-I…' the knight stuttered, stupefied. 'I don't know what… What happened to me. Please, I did not want this, I need your help, I-' 'You chose to ignore my warning. Therefore, you are no longer worthy. It saddens me terribly, but I can travel with you no longer. It ends here.'
No. No, no, no..! The terrifying, yet invigorating pleasure from the fingers' hold had already washed off her like a sudden storm, immensely intense in its nature but over as soon as it had begun. And much like a storm, it had left only desolation in its wake. It had been but a moment of weakness, surely whatever state she had been put in was revocable if only her maiden-
'I know my leaving might sadden you deeply. It does me as well. But you ignored my warning, and now I have no choice. Goodbye, it's been a true pleasure… My sweet knight.' She called for her steed, a low, somber whistle, and the very moment the creature manifested itself under her it leapt gracefully over the plaza's walls and vanished with her as if she had never even existed.
She was gone.
The knight scurried back into the sewers like the plague-ridden rat she had become. There, naked and utterly alone, her blood-curdling cries filled the metallic void as she tried desperately to atone for her irreversible, unforgivable act of utter blasphemy. She scorched her already charred skin with burning coal, made the embers bite her until she was reduced to a sobbing, trembling pile of flesh on the cold floor, blood-mixed saliva running from her gaping mouth.
She had lost everything. Everything. Everything.
It was as if it had never existed… As if she had never existed.
She could not have understood how much she meant to her. If she did, her convictions must have been thousands and thousands of times stronger, for her to turn her shoulder on her so resolutely. Maybe the knight had in her credulous mind only imagined that the profound kindness and endless support she'd displayed during these past few years held more meaning than acts of pure professionalism and that the knight herself was only the object to whom she'd been performing her duty.
But what did it matter now…