Facepalm
So I was looking over the old chapters. And I realized that I had Nameless learn Ostrava's true identity in chapter 13. Three chapters later, Ostrava is surprised when he knows it. Lolwut.
That's, unfortunately, what happens when you don't edit.
Oh well, I may be a moron, but that doesn't mean I'll quit this. That's going into my list of things to fix, along with the Maiden's speeh.
Enjoy the next chapter.
Osford stepped back. Garl was silent.
"How can a Saint say such things?" Osford asked her.
"I say it because it's all I can say," Astraea stood up. "Anything else would be a lie."
"I don't believe it," Osford said. "I am a follower of Umbasa! You will not corrupt me."
She sighed. "I don't want to. I'm sorry."
"This is true?" Garl asked, more quietly.
She turned to him. "Yes, I'm sorry."
He nodded, "then we can masquerade as holy men and women no longer."
"You just accept it?" Osford squeaked. "Just like that, you accept it! How...how can you..." He stammered, then finally silenced.
"I do," Garl said.
"But she just declared that everything that you have ever believed is false, sir Garl, think, not through her, think for yourself."
"I am." Garl said. "I choose to trust her."
"I'm sorry, Osford," Astraea said, a deep frown in her eyes. "This is why we're here. It's why we've come. If there is no god, then god will not help these people. Only we can."
"You're crazy..." Osford looked between them. "You're both insane!"
"Mind your tongue," Garl said.
"If she's right, then she doesn't deserve my respect! Who gave her position to her? Who made her a Saint? Either she's wrong, and she's denying the creator that gave her power, or...she's right...and she shouldn't have any power. In either case, she doesn't deserve my respect any longer."
Garl's words were silent daggers, "you are a weasel and a coward. Every time you don the armor of a knight, you lie to yourself and everyone around you."
"And you are a zealot," Osford said. "Not even of god, which would be acceptable, but of a woman. What do the scriptures say of such lusts, Garl? What do they say of prizing them above god?"
Garl perked up, even through his visor he seemed to be begging Osford to stop.
"That's right," Osford said, now directly to Astraea. "What he has for you isn't even respect; it's fleshly love. For a Saint! Yet he dares to demand that I respect you. He dares to demand that I follow you blindly like he does, when the only reason that he does it stems from something very different than honor!"
"Milady..." Garl started.
"It's alright, Garl," she said. Her eyes turning to him only slightly. "I knew already."
"I..." Garl started, but could say nothing else.
"Osford," Astraea said. "You can turn around, and leave if you wish, and Garl and I will move on. But understand that you have sworn an oath to the god you still believe in. You don't have to agree with me, I won't force that on you, but you do have to protect me. Or do I misunderstand the purpose of the Church Guard."
There was a pause, then Osford spoke, "No...no you do not...milady."
"Good," she said. "Sir Osford, pick up your sword. We have much further to go."
Osford looked down at his sword, then back at Astraea. He silently drew it from the mud, and walked back by her side again. He did not seem happy.
He and Astraea started to walk again. Garl stood still for only a moment, shock and embarassment running through his limbs. Finally, he turned, and when he did, he saw Astraea looking back at him, sympathetically.
Osford just stared at them. As much as he'd blamed it, as much as he'd condemned him for it...it wasn't enough. Not even love could make someone that loyal. It was beyond all explanation and rationalization. Garl was following her into hell.
And unfortunately, he was stuck along for the ride.
Ostrava was silent. Nameless' dead stare was fixed on him, and he felt oppressed beneath its weight.
"I don't..." Ostrava started. He looked back at Nameless for some kind of reaction, but he just kept staring. There was a longer pause.
"What do you want me to say?" Ostrava asked.
"That I'm wrong," Nameless said. And he could begin to hear a creep of emotion in the voice, something that he had never heard in it before. "Please. Tell me that I'm wrong."
But Ostrava was silent, and looked away from him.
They heard a loud hacking, and instinctively they hands flew to their swords, but when they looked, they saw that it was Biorr coughing himself awake.
"Bloody...pestilence...won't even let a man get some sleep!" Biorr coughed out.
"You're awake!" Ostrava yelled.
"Damn right I'm awake," Biorr roared, sitting up. "Did ye forget that I'm Biorr of the-"
"-What's that?" Nameless interrupted.
"Lad," Biorr said, clearly flustered. "Ye did not just interrupt me while I was announcing my title."
"No...what is that?" Ostrava said, looking off. Far away, in the darkness, there was a campfire burning. They watched it flicker, disbelievingly.
"Someone's alive out there?" Ostrava said.
Biorr grunted, and said. "It could be a demon."
"Demons don't make campfires," Nameless said.
"Which would make it a perfect trap, lad," the look in Biorr's eyes was clear: I don't trust you.
"They're better off ambushing us like they just did," Ostrava said. "In the dark, they can catch us off guard more easily through random attacks. We'll be suspicious of a campfire. They know that."
"Or they could know that we know that they know that we would be more suspicious, and expect us to be less suspicious for that exact reason."
There was a pause.
"Biorr, really?" Ostrava said.
"I'm just considering the options, lads." Biorr said, stubbornly...then growled almost immediately afterward and said. "Fine. But I'm going in with both swords drawn."
"I wouldn't expect any less," Ostrava said.
As they started walking, Nameless considered how he had missed his opportunity. The Prince was still alive. Not only that, but he had opened up to him...told him about the dark truth that was working at him.
I couldn't bear that alone, He rationalized. No man could.
Still, this was different than Yurt. There was no way around it. At heart, Ostrava was a good man. He was this kingdom's only hope.
This kingdom has no hope, don't you understand? This world has no hope. As long as there are Demons without angels, and the Old One without a god, this world is doomed no matter what we do. The least you can do is look out for yourself. So do it. It's the only way you'll remember...otherwise you're doomed with this fragmentary existence forever.
But he still didn't want to kill Ariona Allant. No matter how much he rationalized it.
Up ahead of him, Ostrava's steps were more plodding, burdened by dark knowledge.
From behind him, Mephistopheles watched, and frowned deeply.
Freke was on the verge of a breakthrough.
At first, the soul had been responsive to other souls. Then it had started absorbing them. Now, it was twice its size, and glowing an entire spectrum of colors. He was giving the soul arts to a soul without a body, and it was working.
When he introduced the sixth powerful Demon's soul, however, everything changed.
Not only did the soul expand, but a low rumbling began to sound from it. Freke moved his ear closer, to listen...and realized that it was a growl. The soul had come alive!
Then he felt it grab him.
Hands wrapped around him, and suddenly he was being thrown across the room. He hit one of the pillars, and crumpled against the floor. When he looked up, he saw it.
It was his apprentice.
But it was black, black with an aura of red surrrounding it. Its eyes were dead, yet full of malevolence, and its body was incorporeal. Freke had created a Black Phantom.
Without hesitation, the being waved its wand, and a soul arrow more powerful than any he had seen came out. Freke barely dodged out of the way, and the blast took out an entire chunk of the pillar he had been up against. The Apprentice calmly walked toward him, and waved his wand again. More destruction. When Freke tried to cast magic back, the phantom merely stepped out of the way, but did it so quickly that his movement was impossible to follow.
By the Old One, he's stronger than he ever was in life...it's because of the souls I fed him!
Freke tried to hold his own against the Demon altered Apprentice but came to the horrific conclusion that he couldn't. He was struck, at once, by his powerlessness: The boy could do this. The one they sent out into the fog. He had those souls within him. But Freke, one of the world's most powerful Sages? No, he didn't stand a chance. Spells pelted him, and the wards on his cloak held them off, but he was finally knocked to the ground, and felt himself bloodied and beaten.
The Black Phantom approached him, calmly, moving step by step and brandishing its wand. Five soul arrows appeared over his head, and they revved up, about to fire.
Then, the phantom's head burst.
Red energy flew in every direction, and the magic was extinguished. It slumped over, onto its knees, and then fell to the ground.
Standing behind it was the Maiden in Black, her hand outstretched. Freke did not know what power she had unleashed, but the Black Phantom on the ground disappated, and then faded away.
"Milady," Freke started. "You saved me...! This Phantom, it simply appeared! I believe it happens...uh...whenever a soul is not laid to proper rest. We must."
"Thou hast created a Black Phantom. Ist thee proud of thy work?" She asked, coldly.
"It..." he stammered. "It was a mistake! Milady! I had no idea that-"
"Then thou must be foolish. Which I know thee ist not. Thou knowst thou wast tampering with darkness beyond thy control. The only thing thou dost not know ist how much danger thou wrought. I swore not to intervene directly, but was forced to, for if I had not thy vile creation would have murdered everyone here. Including the Monumental. My oath was broken due to thy blunder, and now our entire mission is in jeopardy."
"What mission!?" Freke shot back, sitting up. "You've explained nothing, to any of us! Neither you nor that bloody monumental! You think that you can keep us cooped up in here telling us that you're working for our best interest, all the while not telling us what your plan is!? No...I know the truth! It's because you're a servant of the Old One, isn't it!? You're manipulating us and leading us in circles because you want your master to win!"
"Bold words from he who wisheth to preserveth this dark age," the Maiden said.
"It's not a dark age," Freke said. "If we can control the demons, turn them into our slaves, perhaps, we can use their power. Humanity could advance at an unprecedented level, we would be-"
"-No," said the Maiden, bluntly. "Thy thinking ist erroneous to the point of madness."
"Go ahead," Freke said. "Say whatever you want, but my research will not stop."
And then, all of the sudden, the room was colder, and it was harder to breathe. Visually, everything seemed to fade to a darker shade. A gentle, yet consistent, wind formed, and when Freke saw loose items being blown, he realized that it formed a spiral pattern. Inward. Toward the Maiden.
"Thou dost not realize the power thou triflest with. Thou wouldst be wise to not incite the anger of those more powerful than thyself."
Freke, for the first time, was truly afraid. More afraid than he had ever been. Still, foolishly, he called out, "do you even have this power? Since when have you demonstrated it!?"
And then he saw it.
Underneath the wax-covered portion of her face, there was a bright red glow. As it came more into focus, he realized that there were two of them, and they were bulging outward, violently. Steam came up from their places, and Freke realized that the wax was melting.
Through it, he saw two glowing red eyes of such fierceness that for more than a moment, his heart stopped. He wondered if he was dead from fear, but just looking into those eyes struck him down to the core. He felt everything just by seeing them. The vileness of not one Archdemon, but a thousand...a billion...an infinite number, somehow present in this small girl's body.
Freke felt urine run down his leg.
"Thou hast a choice," the infinite voices said. They no longer sounded like a woman, but like the epitome of doom itself. "Thou shalt end thy foul studies, or thou shalt leave this place forever. If thou dost leave, and if I see thee again, I shall abandon all pretense of non-intervention, and do to thee things worse than that which was done to this girl's body. Now makest thy choice, old man."
Freke got up, and ran.
The red eyes followed him. They followed him as he ran from her, as he ran away from the darkness and the evil and the torture, as he ran up the stairs and to the archstone.
"Ist thou sure?" He heard, in the small accented voice again. "If thou dost this, thou canst never return."
He looked back, and saw her one more time, taking the uintimidating form that everyone else knew her by. But not him...no, not anymore.
"A plague on you!" He yelled to her. "A plague on your cursed Nexus! I will become more powerful than the Old One...more powerful than you." And he realized, as he said it, that she was more powerful than the Old One. "And then, I will destroy you!"
"So be it," The Maiden said, sorrowfully.
And Freke placed his hand against the face of the ancient King, and was gone, to the Boletarian capital.
The Maiden watched him go, and then stood, silent and alone. A minute later, she began to light the candles, again.
At first the fire was too bright. after being surrounded by darkness for so long, it nearly blinded them. But when their vision came into focus, they saw a woman there, sitting. She looked up, and smiled.
"...What?" Biorr said.
The woman cocked her head. She was fully dressed in armor, and had a weapon at her side. Her visor wasn't down, and her face was showing.
"You aren't Demons, are you?" She asked.
They looked at eachother.
"...No," Ostrava said.
She nodded. "I didn't think so. Come, sit down."
Cautiously, each of them sat down near the fire. She was cooking something meaty over it, and they watched the food sizzle.
"There is no way that's sanitary," Nameless said.
"Pleasure to meet you, too," said the smiling woman.
"I'm sorry," Ostrava said. "We're just surprised to meet another human out here. I'm Ostrava of Boletaria. This is my fellow Knight, Biorr of the Twin Fangs."
"Pleased to meet ye," Biorr said, eying the meat.
"What about your friend?" the woman said.
"He..." Ostrava started, but couldn't quite finish. He looked to Nameless for some help, but he was just staring down into the fire, silently.
"He...doesn't go by a name," Ostrava said, in lieu of anything else.
She raised an eyebrow. "Nameless, really?"
"That's what we call'im," Biorr grumbled.
Nameless just kept staring at the fire.
"My name is Selen of Vinland," she said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Do you mean the sameVinland that Garl is from?" Ostrava asked.
Her face grew more curious, "yes...actually, he's my brother. I heard that he went on an expedition into this swamp, but that's it. Do you know anything about him?"
Ostrava gulped. Nameless and Biorr looked up from the fire. It was clear from Selen's expression that she didn't know.
"...We know that he's here," Ostrava said, tactfully.
She nodded. "Yes. That's good...it means I can trust that information, if you heard it from someone else. Normally, I wouldn't come looking for him, but he's been gone far too long...and the fog. Well...it's easy to fear the worst."
"...yes," Ostrava said.
"But I have faith, he's a good fighter. He always has been, and he can use miracles to keep himself safe."
"Selen," Nameless asked, quietly. "How long have you been in Boletaria?"
"Four days or so," she said.
"And you made it all the way here?" Ostrava asked. "Don't you find this valley to be...you know...horrific?"
Her smile faded, "yes. But there are horrific places in this world. And I expected it. After all, I know the history. Even before Boletaria's plague, it was a human dumping ground."
Biorr frowned.
"What?" Ostrava asked.
"You didn't know?" Selen said, then went on. "The water in this swamp is filled with the remains of abandoned babes."
"What?"
"If a commoner mother did not want to raise her child...she would leave it here."
"That's...that's horrible, though," Ostrava said. "You can't just abandon a baby in a swamp!"
"Lad," Biorr said. "Remember where you came from. Remember what you haven't seen."
Ostrava looked down at the ground, and said, "...The world really is like this, then?"
"Yes, I'm afraid that it is," Selen said, sadly.
"Then I guess it's true. It has to be."
"What's true?" Selen asked.
Ostrava just shook his head. "Nevermind. Something personal. Tell me...what do you know about Garl?"
"Are you looking for him, too?" she said.
"Technically, yes..." Ostrava said.
"Then we should look together," Selen said.
"That's a terrible idea," Nameless said.
Selen's eyes widened. Biorr and Ostrava both shot glares at Nameless.
"I'm not sure I understand," Selen said.
"I'm sorry," said Ostrava. "Ignore him. He's just...he's seen a lot of this place. He's been under the fog longer than any of us."
She nodded sympathetically. "I understand, then."
No one saw Nameless' knuckles clench.
"But...what can you tell us about Garl?" Ostrava asked.
"He's the most thick-headed person I've ever met," she said.
"I don't know, have you met Biorr?" Ostrava said.
"Say whatever you want, lad, it's been hours since I ate and I'm not in the mood to be offended."
Selen looked down at the meat. "I don't have much."
"That's fine," Ostrava said, more to Biorr than her.
"But...back to Garl," Selen said. "I don't know what there is to say, really. We grew up like other Holy Squires, groomed from childhood to be knights of the church. But...I was never like him. No one was like him."
"In what way?" Ostrava asked.
"His loyalty;" she said. "His unquestioning loyalty to everything that we stood for."
Biorr and Ostrava looked at eachother, confused. Nameless rose his head and paid more attention.
"Not that others weren't loyal...but he was different. When we were told to jump, we would ask how high. Garl would just jump. There was no moment of hesitation for him, not even for an instant."
"...So what was he so loyal to, exactly?" Ostrava asked. "I mean; what was it about the Church that made him devote himself to it more than any other person?"
"I don't know," she said. "It came so naturally to him, and he never said why...there are dark rumors about him," she said, suddenly.
They looked up.
"It's why you're looking for him, isn't it? Don't worry, I know...but I don't believe them. Garl was more devout than any man I've ever known. The very idea of him turning like that is ludicrous."
"What if Saint Astraea wanted him to?" Ostrava asked.
Selen scoffed. "It just isn't possible. The Garl that I know wouldn't...no, he couldn't. Even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to."
"But what if he did?" Nameless asked.
"I just said-"
"I know what you said, but...tell me. What if he did?"
"I don't...see your point," she said.
"I mean...if you know him, explain to me what it would take for him to do that," Nameless said. "Tell me what it was."
"Are you-" Ostrava looked over, and saw that his companion's body was trembling, slightly.
"Tell me." Nameless cut in, again.
"I don't know," Selen said, clearly frustrated. "I just told you; I don't think that anything would."
"That's a lie. It's a lie because something did." Nameless said. "He betrayed you; he betrayed your entire order. We wouldn't be here if he hadn't. Don't answer flippantly again, think, you know the man, why would he turn on you, on everything he loved and everything he wanted to protect? Tell me."
Selen looked at him, horrified.
"I'm so sorry," said Ostrava.
"You don't know, do you?" Nameless asked. "He was your family, but you really don't know anything about him."
Now Biorr and Ostrava had the same horrified expressions.
"How dare you," Selen said. "He was my brother. He was my brother and I-"
"You admitted that you didn't know. You didn't know why he was so loyal, you never knew. You never understood what was going through his head. Why would you know now? How would you be able to tell whether or not he would betray the church, when you didn't even understand him. You-"
"Nameless!" Ostrava yelled out.
He stopped. There was a pause.
Finally, Selen spoke. "I offered you a place by my fire out of kindness. But I think it's time that you leave."
"Gladly," Nameless said, and stood with no hesitation.
Biorr groaned, scratched his head, and then stood as well.
"I'm so sorry-" Ostrava tried to say again.
"Keep better company, in the future," she advised him, not unkindly.
There was a pause. He nodded, then stood.
"What is wrong with you?" Ostrava asked, once they were out of earshot. "That woman was the only other human in this godforsaken place!"
"This whole world is godforsaken, in case you forgot," Nameless said. "And that woman is a fool."
"Lad, in a normal situation, I don't like ye. But back there I wanted to drop all pretense and wring yer damned neck," Biorr said.
"Wait, why would you normally not like him?" Ostrava asked.
"This isn't about me, Biorr," Nameless said, turning back to them. "She grew up with him. She lived the same life as him. She must have seen everything he went through and been everywhere he was, and she doesn't understand a thing about him. Imagine how dense, how insensitive a person would have to be. Imagine how alone that would leave him, if his own family didn't empathize with him."
"Well to be fair, Garl doesn't seem to be easy to understand," Ostrava said.
"Neither am I," Nameless said.
There was nothing good to say to that. So nothing was said.
They continued through the fog.