Afraid
The quiet fishing village had been completely ravaged. Every building, every street, every ship in the port, every inch of the place had been scoured until his prize was found. And as soon as he found it, he departed, ferrying his beloved back across the ocean and leaving his subjects to kill as they pleased.
As the wonderful chaos outside began to finally abate, the last of the living finding release, Karthus found himself inside what was once a general store. Now it was a tomb. Over a dozen of the villagers had gathered here, hoping that they could either hide or use what was stored here as improvised weapons. Karthus had given them all a swift death.
The lich looked down at one of the dead, a youth who died on the cusp of manhood. He gripped a pitchfork in his cold, stiff hands, while his eyes, still open and wide with terror, looked at nothing. Karthus bent down and closed the boy's eyes and shut his mouth so that his expression looked more peaceful, before moving on to repeat the process with the other dead. Who all these people were to each other in life, he did not know, nor did it matter. Now they were all part of his choir.
As the final words of his dirge were sung, Karthus turned his attention to the shelves of the ruined store. He would not squander this opportunity to gather much needed supplies for Achlys. He searched for preserved foods, fabric, tools, and anything else that would benefit his daughter. As he wandered the store, he took care not to disturb the bodies of the dead. Their shells were empty, he knew, but the tally-man in him still demanded that he be respectful of the bodies.
The night was silent as he worked. Karthus had bid the newest members of his congregation back to the Isles so that he could focus on Achlys's needs without distraction. The gentle light his lucent form emanated filled the room as though the full moon was shining brilliantly above rather than being obscured with Mist. It was peaceful, until another light, sickly green in color, permeated the room and cast threatening shadows upon the walls.
Karthus felt a familiar, loathsome presence behind him and he did not need to turn around to know which specter stood in the doorway.
"Do you not have some other, undeserving soul to torment, Thresh?"
"Undeserving," Thresh repeated in a bemused tone, "Karthus, I had believed you to be a priest, not a judge. Who are you to decide who is and isn't deserving of my attentions?"
Karthus did not dignify the question with a response. He hoped that if he simply ignored Thresh, he would leave. Karthus would have no such luck that night.
"If it is any consolation," Thresh continued, "I also do not consider myself fit to pass judgement. That is why I simply treat each soul the same."
"How judicious of you," Karthus responded bitterly, "Now state why you are here or be on your way to give your 'attentions' to someone else."
"Oh, I plan to. I was at the temple tonight. The priestess there, I killed her last as she begged some unhearing celestial for deliverance. But I listen, and I will be more than willing to give her my undivided attention."
Karthus's ancient face scowled, his hollow eyes burning with disgust at his fellow wraith. This expression was not unseen by Thresh. He approved of the lich's disdain.
"Then be off to commit your atrocities," Karthus said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Later. I shall wait until her beloved constellation is in the skies overhead before I break her. That however, is a full season away, so right now, you have my undivided attention."
"Then state why you are here," Karthus repeated in a harsher tone.
"I am here only to talk, nothing nefarious."
Karthus scoffed.
"Forgive my disbelief," he said.
"You are forgiven," Thresh replied, "Now, tell me, where is your little daughter? I must confess, I was surprised to see you among the host. The last time you were called for a Harrowing like this, you had left Achlys with me. Who did you leave her with this time? Do not tell me that you left her all alone."
"Of course not," Karthus snapped, "I left her in the care of the Chronicler; the one I had originally wished to look after her last time."
"Do you not trust me?"
"I do not."
"Karthus, you wound me," Thresh feigned offense.
"Continue to question my care of my daughter and I just might."
Thresh ignored Karthus's threat and continued speaking as if he had heard nothing.
"I would consider myself a trustworthy individual. In life, others would have agreed, or at least deemed me responsible enough to be the sole guardian of the lowest vaults. I watched over hundreds of dangerous magical artifacts, but you do not see me fit to watch one child."
"Perhaps neither your skills nor your supposed trustworthiness had anything to do with their decision," Karthus retorted, "Perhaps they simply wished to isolate you so they would not have to suffer your company."
Thresh let out a dark laugh.
"Perhaps they did," he said, "but it does not matter anymore. They have no choice but to, as you put it, 'suffer my company' now."
He looked down towards his lantern and the balefire in his eyes flared with malicious delight.
"If you desire to know why I do not entrust Achlys to you more frequently, this is it," Karthus stated bluntly, "this whole performance you put on. I would sooner stand beneath the midday sun than allow her to develop any of your peculiarities."
"And what of your peculiarities, Karthus?"
"I have none to be ashamed of."
"Is that so? What of your dishonesty?"
"I am no deceiver."
Karthus's offense was not feigned.
"Deceive, no, but you do withhold the truth."
"I withhold nothing of importance from my daughter."
"I was not referring to Achlys."
The room grew unnaturally quiet as Thresh awaited Karthus's response. The lich said nothing.
"You haven't brought her before him, have you, Karthus?"
"I do not believe there is a need for that now."
"Is that your excuse? And you accuse me of being dishonest," he chuckled, "No, there must be another reason."
"There is. She has not been properly taught how to behave in court."
"Ah, courtly manners," Thresh sighed, his voice once more full of insincere mirth, "a set of skills that even adults struggle with. Yes, I agree, it would be unfair to ask her to learn all those social rules at the tender age of, oh, what is her age? She is due for another of those celebrations soon, right?"
Karthus could sense the disingenuous tone of Thresh's voice, but as long as these questions led the conversation in a different direction, he was willing to answer them.
"Her finding day," he answered, "Yes. Next month will be her sixth."
"Finding day, so that is what you call those little parties. I wouldn't have known. I am never invited."
"You make for poor company and there is no doubt in my mind that your gift to her would be something distasteful."
"You assume the worst of me."
"You have given me little indication to believe otherwise."
"A fair concern," Thresh said with a shrug, "I know my reputation. I have worked hard to earn it, but remember, I have done no ill towards your daughter. Perhaps-"
"And I intend to give you no opportunity to do so." Karthus cut off.
"Such a protective father you are, Karthus," Thresh chuckled, "Perhaps, as I was going to say, there is something I could do to alleviate your worries and show that I am no great danger to her? How about a present for her finding day? I shall not attend your party, but you may still give her the gift from me."
"Do not trouble yourself."
"It is no trouble. I doubt I shall even need to leave this room to find something for her."
Thresh paced the sepulchral store, his gaze lazily passing over the various shelves of wares. He did not care to avoid the bodies of the recently dead on the floor, and more than one bone snapped beneath his weight. Karthus shook his head and resumed his task of gathering what precious goods he could for Achlys. The more he could accomplish before Thresh decided to continue his tiresome conversation, the better. He was allotted one blissful minute of silence.
"Ah," Thresh broke the silence, "here we are."
He bent over the body of a woman and closed his clawed gauntlet around the necklace she had been wearing; a simple chain with a pendant of sea glass. With one pull, the chain snapped and the necklace was taken from the corpse. The light of his lantern washed over the pendant as he turned the glass over in his hand.
"Such a pretty color," he mused, "I believe she will enjoy it."
Reaching across where Karthus was working, he placed the necklace among the things gathered for Achlys.
"See, Karthus, just a simple piece of jewelry, nothing to be afraid of."
"Afraid?"
Now it was Karthus's turn to laugh.
"I am not afraid."
"I agree," Thresh nodded, "you are not afraid, you are terrified."
"Do not flatter yourself, Thresh. You are an annoyance to me, little more. I do not fear you."
"Not me, Karthus. You loathe me, but in your soul you know I will not harm your daughter. You fear your king."
Karthus stood silent, as though he had been struck. He felt his patience wearing thin as the conversation found its way back to the one he owed fealty to. Again, he attempted to carry on with his task and ignore the other specter. Again, Thresh refused him peace.
"I understand your concern," Thresh continued, all traces of shallow mockery gone from his voice, "and I doubt few on the Isles will as much as I. One day you are content, sole sovereign of your little dominion, and then the next, he intrudes and demands it for himself."
"I do not fear my king. I serve a righteous cause."
"You serve death, not the man, and you do fear him, Karthus. You fear what he may do to Achlys. You have called her 'a daughter of the Isles,' but before that you had said 'this child will be my daughter.' Yours alone. You fear that he will claim her as his daughter and you will lose her soul. You know how protective he is of immediate family."
"Be silent," Karthus hissed.
"I believe I have struck a nerve, which means I am correct," Thresh stated bluntly, "I've seen countless families torn apart and witnessed the anguish it causes them. You want to spare yourself that agony, again. Oh, I have heard the dirges you sing for your sisters, how you sing of your loss. It is easy to tell that, this time, you desire to keep this last family member's soul for your own."
"Her soul is her own!" Karthus snapped, his patience gone, "Not mine, not yours, and not his."
"You are fortunate he has departed," Thresh responded in an even tone, "or he may have heard your words and called them treasonous. He claims all souls on the Isles are his. Why would Achlys be any different? Why else would she have been called there if not to serve?"
There were several minutes of deafening silence between them. Thresh was right, and Karthus despised that fact with every ounce of his being. He knew Achlys's powers belong to the Isles and that she had washed ashore to spread their influence, his influence, across the world. She was not here to simply be his daughter, but by the Eternal Hunters, that was all he wanted; one kindred soul to contentedly spend eternity with. But at the end of it all, did what he want matter? What is the worth of one man's desires when compared to dream of spreading undeath across the world? One soul weighted against countless? For the first time in his existence, Karthus felt conflicted in his soul.
"She will serve," Karthus stated reluctantly, "we all must."
"Must we?"
"Now whose words are treasonous?"
A low, hollow laugh was Thresh's response.
"I am not unreasonable, Karthus," Thresh said, trying to mask his glee under a sympathetic tone, "as I said before, I am the only one on these Isles who understands your frustrations. So let us make a deal. I shall continue to keep your secret and refrain from ever revealing your treacherous thoughts, if you promise that the next time you bring Achlys to me for instruction, you leave. I wish to teach her without your interference. Remember, this is all in the interest of your daughter."
"Your deal is foul, but I accept, for her sake."
"And I shall honor my side of the bargain. He will hear no word of her from me. However, I must warn you, he is growing restless and has begun to look outwards more. She will not be able to evade his attention forever, especially as her magic continues to grow. So while I believe you may be able to keep her your secret for a few more years, I would consider teaching her how to properly curtsy. It will be better if you told him before he finds out."
"I know."
Thresh turned to leave but paused in doorway.
"And one more thing, Karthus," he said, "when you next bring her to me, I want to see her wearing that pendant."
And with those words, Thresh departed, leaving Karthus alone with his thoughts. The lich picked up the necklace. For such a small thing it felt terribly heavy.