****************
Wyatt Graves
I return from The Cabin to a thunderous shake throughout both the land and my body with someone dragging me to my feet. The feeling is weird as my whole body is tingling. My vision is blurry and unfocused at first as I don't recognize the person helping me up, but after a moment of looking at her face and the white light that comes from her to rejuvenate my surprisingly mostly healed body, I realize who it is.
Chief Birdie.
Frantically I look around in confusion about what’s happening as usually when you come from The Cabin it’s instant, no time passing of any kind. But this time the entire situation has changed. Johnny has a blindfold over his eyes, hinting that he’s blind once more and Silas is bereft of any gold on his body. Otto and Blake are laying down on the ground on small stretchers made of solid light, their wounds faded to small scars.
Far away, a single figure covered in Ether so dense that I can barely even see around her, kicks dust, throws rocks, and speaks words at the demon opposite them, every single action causing a sprout of blood to come from the demon’s form. Even as the demon shifts to its bear form, it is being toyed with just as it toyed with Johnny.
Chief Birdie seems to recognize the confusion on my face and helps me out with a pat on my shoulder.
“I see that you advanced, but you were far too injured to actually wake up. The Cabin can never fix wounds, lad, only give you new ways to stem 'em. Had Iva not arrived to free me up, you would have bled out for sure. Same for your friends.”
My feet are steady as I stand up straight and I feel so much better. I look down at my body and see that just about all my wounds are healed, save the missing fingers on the Bloody Palm and my missing arm. But the fingers seem to be regrowing, from ripped pieces of flesh and bone to small stubs, and based on the scream I heard from the Bloody Palm when the Ether in my hand exploded, it appears to be conscious or at least willing to make some noise.
I shake out my limbs just a bit to test them out, and Birdie smiles at my actions. Her face seems quite kind, even if the yellow fires of Undeath in her eyes are a bit unsettling.
“Happy to see you're doing fine Wyatt. I was worried if I could save you with all that lost blood and how little Ether I had left, but you stabilized on your own after just a few nudges. A warning from me, however, kid. You fight again, and even I can't help you. Bodies have a limit to how much they can heal. You ain't gettin' any more from me for at least a few weeks.”
Still a bit concussed, I nod to her, not fully taking in what she's saying. My attention returns to the rumbling figure far away, Iva the Vicious, who appears to be fighting the demon that Chief Birdie, Johnny, and Silas were. The second time I look, however, it seems that something finally settles over my eyes, creating an overlaying effect.
It feels like when you look at your nose and go cross-eyed, two perspectives overlaid, only this second perspective is a completely different way of looking at the world compared to simply seeing from a slightly different point.
At the same time, in two different ways, I see the world. One is the normal vision of mankind. The restrictive, easy to fool, and limited view that all have. A world subsumed by darkness with the only points of light being the constructs of Birdie and Johnny’s lantern. I can’t see Ether in this sight, only the consequences of the substance. Each strike Iva gives off half-heartedly shakes the surroundings with its power, the very air crackling and breaking with the strength of the undead woman.
The other vision is far more than the old sight through Chain Eyes or even that new perspective where I could see a world created of chains. Information seems to overload me as I am given a whole reality constructed of different bases. Everything is a chain link or a number of chain links put together. All the people around me glow with a unique color and texture of chain.
Blake and Otto who lie unconscious below are two figurines made of green and light blue chains respectively. Every link is a small piece just as a flake of skin is on a person, and many of those flakes create a small piece of skin. And when I look closely, I can see underneath the chains, toward their Sigils.
I can’t immediately see what they are made of, but I can get a feel very easily. Blake’s gives me the sense of someone who uses their own body as a container for something far eviler to save others from the torment of whatever they shackle. That must be the point of her Sigil. To restrain terrible spirits and use them to your own advantage. Otto’s on the other hand gives me a general athletic feel, one where someone can do just about any action, but excel particularly well at none.
My eyes move over to Johnny, and the first thing I notice is his eyes. Dim links create the outside of the eyes, but as I look closer, I see a radiant river flowing into and out of the depths of his eyes. It just seems as though his eyes have burnt out from accessing the said river. That must be his Absolution skill, Golden Eye. His Sigil also feels sharp yet blunt. Kind of like a bullet now that I think about it.
Next, my eyes shift over to Birdie beside me. Her whole body glows with a magenta color, the color of an Angel, and her heart radiates Ether visible to my eyes with waves similar to that of a hot day. This view brings a slight pain to my eyes like a subtle sting as I quickly look away. Unintentionally, my eyes return to the woman, Iva, who is fighting the demon far away, and instantly it feels like looking directly at the sun.
She explodes with a purple so dark it nears black, like midnight if it were a color. Her eyes burn with a rage of bloody light so dense it feels like watching a red river boil. I can’t even look for more than a second to see where her Sigil lies as I close my eyes and look away. The Cabin right? Some things should not be perceived. As I do so, I hear Silas who was behind Birdie in my vision whistle.
“Devil be damned. She is a monster. I thought you were exaggerating before, Birdie.”
Birdie pipes up as she sits on the coarse ground of No Man’s Land. I have to keep my eyes tightly squinted so as not to see the two Angels fighting.
“I don’t exaggerate. And Iva needs none. There is a reason why even the demons stay clear of that madwoman. Her Power alone disarms any and all with fear. Her Virtue is said to make every single object she touches as deadly as an artifact of the same Sigil. Her Dominion elevates her entire self from Ether control to durability with only some deep focus. Few demons are willing to challenge her, even those five who touch the boundary of divinity.”
Remembering the Firsts words about keeping your abilities secret, I ask Birdie how she knows Iva’s Power, Virtue, and Dominion. The abilities of a 9th Sigil, however, seem insurmountable.
“How do you know all this? I thought people tried to keep their stuff secret?”
Birdie laughs at my question as she just watches the fight rapidly approach an end. Just from my ears, I can hear the demon scream wildly, however, it's not for mercy. It's for Iva to take her seriously. She must be like Vualki, a demon who has some kind of dignity or honor.
“Hahaha, most do, but not Iva. She wants as many people as possible to know how strong she is. The fear of others is worth any amount of adoration or gratitude. We’re lucky she even decided to help us. Had we not been so close to Isaac, she probably would have just watched us die.”
I can only nod and wait a few more minutes for Iva to finish the fight. Unable to watch without burning my pupils, I listen to the sound of fists upon flesh for several moments before she approaches with a mocking voice and a body being dragged behind her.
“Look at you, dove! You’re so helpful! Healing all these people right up! I should give you a gift, don’t you think?”
I try to open my eyes and squint to see a bit better, but it doesn't seem to help at all as I literally hear Birdie shake her hands, refusing the gift incessantly but accepting the derogatory butchering of her name.
“Nonono, I'm fine, I don’t like gifts.”
But sadly, Iva doesn’t take no for an answer, pressing Birdie even more, but Birdie is staunch in her refusal.
“Aw come on dove! I did all that work just for you! How about a trade? This demon’s corpse for a quick night? I promise you’ll enjoy it! And I’m sure Isaac would be sooooo proud to see that you killed a demon all on your lonesome self!"
“I’m fine, really, Iva. Thank you for the generous offer.”
After Birdie turns her down a second time, the viciousness seems to emerge as I can imagine, no, literally see what's happening behind my eyelids. The imagination melding with my vision is truly weird when my eyes are closed, but at least this way hurts a lot less. Iva’s face twists into pure malice as she spits at Birdie’s feet.
“Fine then, you whore. I save your life and you can’t even give me a bit of attention? Have fun crawling to Isaac.”
I can only turn my head slightly before two cracks ring out in my ears along with a scream from Birdie. Her high-pitched wail and subsequent flop to the ground from her kneecaps being turned inwards by two kicks so quick that the rocks around us move several feet away from the air pressure. The strike to the one who just saved my life makes me prepare instinctively for a fight, the others who are standing nearby do the same, joining me in preparing for combat with a Supreme.
Ether roars through my body with a volume completely new to me as I breathe in a gasp of Ether, funnel Ether into my chains, and split my Daydream from my arm to guard my eyes as I open them. Strugglers Gasp, Defiance, and Daydream all together allow me to stand against Iva with open eyes, and she looks back at me.
But it seems as though only I am able to prepare sufficiently in time.
Johnny and Silas fall to their knees merely from her eyes, but I stare straight at her even as my knees begin to tremble, shake, and buckle. Getting an idea and remembering my recent advancement, I use my new Sigil skill for the first time, naming it Release. I focus the area of question on my kneecaps as I feel and see the chains on my knees completely break, sucking in Ether from the air all around without me even having to use much input. It's entirely different from any other skill. All it takes is my mind. Not even Ether to activate. Odd.
Instantly, I feel the power of my legs double if not triple, and only continue to rise as I stand straight and look at Iva directly. Her raging fires of blood in her eyes stare right back at me as a small smile is twisted on her face. I see her hand rise up as she clenches a fist, and I try to use Release again, attempting to learn its limits, but I feel a piercing pain enter my mind as I do so, Ether slipping through my metaphorical grasp. A feeling of inadequacy enters me as I almost lose grasp on all the Ether I hold. I guess I need more practice to do so.
The tension only rises as I look down at her, realizing that Iva, despite all her power, is shorter than me. A single second of us looking at each other lasts before Birdie screams out and breaks the tension.
“Don’t fight her! She’s just looking for a reason to kill you! We aren’t allowed to kill living humans unless attacked!”
Her words make me back down rapidly, slowing the Ether in my body to a grinding halt with a step backward. Iva seems to notice this as she kicks Birdie in the stomach, sending her tumbling dozens of feet before landing.
“Don’t ruin my fun! Do you know how long it’s been since I killed someone alive?! Felt the warmth leech out of their body onto my hands!? Oh, Devil, it’s been way too long.”
Iva then turns to me with an arched back and smiles from ear to ear.
“But you’re interesting, little one. What’s a child doing down here? And how come you didn’t fall? I could have sworn I put enough Fear in you to make a Virtue quiver.”
I look her in the eye as all my skills fade except for Daydream’s split that is allowing me to look at her with only slight pain in my eyes, leaving me with extreme weakness despite the short time frame in which I used them. And as I do, I feel a disconnection to my newly found skill, Release. I reach for it once more, trying to send the Ether back to my knees in the same way as earlier, but nothing happens. All I feel is emptiness as I grasp for the new skill. I try not to let any of this confusion appear on my face as I answer Iva.
“Can’t feel fear ma’am.”
She grins even further as she stands on her tippy toes to look me in the eye. I stand incredibly still even as the bloody fires of her eyes get within an inch of mine.
“Is that so? Hmm… I can see a bit of resemblance. Tell me child, do you know a Koral? Or a Hern?”
I nod before I can stop myself, the instinct of answering a question overpowering my realization that this is a probe for information.
She laughs as she figures out who I am with such a simple device.
“Ahah! Knew you had to be special. Hey, Birdie, why didn’t you tell me you had a lil’ Graves with you! Tell me, is Koral still alive, little one? And what’s your name?”
I shake my head at her first question and give her my name. The cats out of the bag from my fumble and making her happy is likely a smart thing to do. I don’t want to end up like Birdie over there who is trying to mend her broken bones and ruptured organs. Especially after I was told I can't be healed again.
“No, I’ve never met Koral, I just know she’s my grandmother. My father is Killian, if you know who that is, though. I’m Wyatt, ma’am.”
She reaches forward at me, and I try to lean back but she is far faster than I am. I try to defend myself thinking it’s an attack but all she does is squeeze my cheeks. My struggle ends with her twisting a tad to dodge my fist even at this close of range.
“Aww! That must mean something gobbled her up! I was hoping to see her again someday… welp shit happens. And aren’t you so respectful! Birdie, you see this? Call me ma’am from now on, okay? I quite like it.”
A quiet and painful “Yes, ma’am.” comes from behind me. A quick glance tells me that Birdie’s stomach that was kicked in has healed and her light has now moved onto fixing her knees so that she can move. Johnny and Silas still kneel next to me, looking straight at the ground without moving beside their trembles.
The whole situation is virtually owned by this lady. Should we do anything that angers her, we're dead. Or at least Birdie is. That rule of undead not being allowed to kill the living is new. Must not be told to the living normally. I just watch Iva in silence as she moves her head back and forth in thought for a few seconds. The whole area is in complete silence as even those asleep hold their breath. The woman in front of us plays no games but her own.
“Why you down ‘ere, Wyatt? Fancy some undead flesh, or are you after something?”
Despite how much I want to ask why she wants to know, I refrain myself. Those burning eyes of her and chains of Ether so dark purple they border on night keep me from overestimating myself.
“I’m looking for my fallen mentor, Edmund Dudley. I have something to ask him.”
She smiles even wider, to the point that it looks almost inhuman as the flesh on her mouth breaks, spilling blood onto her lips that she licks up.
“Oh, that’s no big deal. I can take you to Heights in a flash if you want. Your most likely to find him there if he’s still kickin’.”
I start to refuse her, but the shift in her face from a smile to a frown makes me change my mind and accept the gift she’s offering. The thought of Birdie on the ground keeps me from refusing.
“I’m—g—happy to take your offer. How will you get me there?”
She laughs again, reaching into the back of her shirt and pulling out an entire spinal cord. It is missing any signs of gore and blood, only made of bone and nerves that hang from it, but the bright violet glow, a color darker than magenta but lighter than midnight, makes me realize its power.
Iva is holding the spine of an Angel. One that had a Virtue no less.
“Just stand right there. Don’t move a muscle~!”
She starts to talk with a giddy voice as she uses the spinal cord like a whip to lightly tap me before lashing out into the distance.
The second a crack resounds from the whip of the spinal cord’s bones hitting each other, my vision shifts into a smashing of colors before I fall face-first into the hard dirt. Pissed off at her prank, I spit out dirt as I look up, but the surroundings are completely different.
Instead of the dark wastes bereft of any plants and only the only light being a lantern, I stand in a bustling city square full of undead, the fires of Undeath burning in the eyes of everyone passing by. A few look at me briefly, but just keep walking after a moment. Most of the people here are adorned with chains more powerful than mine with the very weakest being at my Sigil.
And in front of me lie two massive pillars that rise as far as I can see upward, their bodies a bright white and a dark black. The bottom of each holds words that I read instantly upon looking at them alongside the name just above the words that spiral seemingly endlessly upward. They do however share the same description at the bottom.
Ramond Bolton --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oscar Kidd
Heights Of Hope ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Depths Of Depravity
Those who have died for others to live. The fallen, the righteous, the apathetic, and even the evil shall be remembered on these stones. Gone, but never forgotten. Should one be willing to grasp toward Godhood and fight Hell at the highest level, one will be etched into these stones guaranteed. But remember. Even I cannot bring back Angels.
****************
Wyatt Graves
I return from The Cabin to a thunderous shake throughout both the land and my body with someone dragging me to my feet. The feeling is weird as my whole body is tingling. My vision is blurry and unfocused at first as I don't recognize the person helping me up, but after a moment of looking at her face and the white light that comes from her to rejuvenate my surprisingly mostly healed body, I realize who it is.
Chief Birdie.
Frantically I look around in confusion about what’s happening as usually when you come from The Cabin it’s instant, no time passing of any kind. But this time the entire situation has changed. Johnny has a blindfold over his eyes, hinting that he’s blind once more and Silas is bereft of any gold on his body. Otto and Blake are laying down on the ground on small stretchers made of solid light, their wounds faded to small scars.
Far away, a single figure covered in Ether so dense that I can barely even see around her, kicks dust, throws rocks, and speaks words at the demon opposite them, every single action causing a sprout of blood to come from the demon’s form. Even as the demon shifts to its bear form, it is being toyed with just as it toyed with Johnny.
Chief Birdie seems to recognize the confusion on my face and helps me out with a pat on my shoulder.
“I see that you advanced, but you were far too injured to actually wake up. The Cabin can never fix wounds, lad, only give you new ways to stem 'em. Had Iva not arrived to free me up, you would have bled out for sure. Same for your friends.”
My feet are steady as I stand up straight and I feel so much better. I look down at my body and see that just about all my wounds are healed, save the missing fingers on the Bloody Palm and my missing arm. But the fingers seem to be regrowing, from ripped pieces of flesh and bone to small stubs, and based on the scream I heard from the Bloody Palm when the Ether in my hand exploded, it appears to be conscious or at least willing to make some noise.
I shake out my limbs just a bit to test them out, and Birdie smiles at my actions. Her face seems quite kind, even if the yellow fires of Undeath in her eyes are a bit unsettling.
“Happy to see you're doing fine Wyatt. I was worried if I could save you with all that lost blood and how little Ether I had left, but you stabilized on your own after just a few nudges. A warning from me, however, kid. You fight again, and even I can't help you. Bodies have a limit to how much they can heal. You ain't gettin' any more from me for at least a few weeks.”
Still a bit concussed, I nod to her, not fully taking in what she's saying. My attention returns to the rumbling figure far away, Iva the Vicious, who appears to be fighting the demon that Chief Birdie, Johnny, and Silas were. The second time I look, however, it seems that something finally settles over my eyes, creating an overlaying effect.
It feels like when you look at your nose and go cross-eyed, two perspectives overlaid, only this second perspective is a completely different way of looking at the world compared to simply seeing from a slightly different point.
At the same time, in two different ways, I see the world. One is the normal vision of mankind. The restrictive, easy to fool, and limited view that all have. A world subsumed by darkness with the only points of light being the constructs of Birdie and Johnny’s lantern. I can’t see Ether in this sight, only the consequences of the substance. Each strike Iva gives off half-heartedly shakes the surroundings with its power, the very air crackling and breaking with the strength of the undead woman.
The other vision is far more than the old sight through Chain Eyes or even that new perspective where I could see a world created of chains. Information seems to overload me as I am given a whole reality constructed of different bases. Everything is a chain link or a number of chain links put together. All the people around me glow with a unique color and texture of chain.
Blake and Otto who lie unconscious below are two figurines made of green and light blue chains respectively. Every link is a small piece just as a flake of skin is on a person, and many of those flakes create a small piece of skin. And when I look closely, I can see underneath the chains, toward their Sigils.
I can’t immediately see what they are made of, but I can get a feel very easily. Blake’s gives me the sense of someone who uses their own body as a container for something far eviler to save others from the torment of whatever they shackle. That must be the point of her Sigil. To restrain terrible spirits and use them to your own advantage. Otto’s on the other hand gives me a general athletic feel, one where someone can do just about any action, but excel particularly well at none.
My eyes move over to Johnny, and the first thing I notice is his eyes. Dim links create the outside of the eyes, but as I look closer, I see a radiant river flowing into and out of the depths of his eyes. It just seems as though his eyes have burnt out from accessing the said river. That must be his Absolution skill, Golden Eye. His Sigil also feels sharp yet blunt. Kind of like a bullet now that I think about it.
Next, my eyes shift over to Birdie beside me. Her whole body glows with a magenta color, the color of an Angel, and her heart radiates Ether visible to my eyes with waves similar to that of a hot day. This view brings a slight pain to my eyes like a subtle sting as I quickly look away. Unintentionally, my eyes return to the woman, Iva, who is fighting the demon far away, and instantly it feels like looking directly at the sun.
She explodes with a purple so dark it nears black, like midnight if it were a color. Her eyes burn with a rage of bloody light so dense it feels like watching a red river boil. I can’t even look for more than a second to see where her Sigil lies as I close my eyes and look away. The Cabin right? Some things should not be perceived. As I do so, I hear Silas who was behind Birdie in my vision whistle.
“Devil be damned. She is a monster. I thought you were exaggerating before, Birdie.”
Birdie pipes up as she sits on the coarse ground of No Man’s Land. I have to keep my eyes tightly squinted so as not to see the two Angels fighting.
“I don’t exaggerate. And Iva needs none. There is a reason why even the demons stay clear of that madwoman. Her Power alone disarms any and all with fear. Her Virtue is said to make every single object she touches as deadly as an artifact of the same Sigil. Her Dominion elevates her entire self from Ether control to durability with only some deep focus. Few demons are willing to challenge her, even those five who touch the boundary of divinity.”
Remembering the Firsts words about keeping your abilities secret, I ask Birdie how she knows Iva’s Power, Virtue, and Dominion. The abilities of a 9th Sigil, however, seem insurmountable.
“How do you know all this? I thought people tried to keep their stuff secret?”
Birdie laughs at my question as she just watches the fight rapidly approach an end. Just from my ears, I can hear the demon scream wildly, however, it's not for mercy. It's for Iva to take her seriously. She must be like Vualki, a demon who has some kind of dignity or honor.
“Hahaha, most do, but not Iva. She wants as many people as possible to know how strong she is. The fear of others is worth any amount of adoration or gratitude. We’re lucky she even decided to help us. Had we not been so close to Isaac, she probably would have just watched us die.”
I can only nod and wait a few more minutes for Iva to finish the fight. Unable to watch without burning my pupils, I listen to the sound of fists upon flesh for several moments before she approaches with a mocking voice and a body being dragged behind her.
“Look at you, dove! You’re so helpful! Healing all these people right up! I should give you a gift, don’t you think?”
I try to open my eyes and squint to see a bit better, but it doesn't seem to help at all as I literally hear Birdie shake her hands, refusing the gift incessantly but accepting the derogatory butchering of her name.
“Nonono, I'm fine, I don’t like gifts.”
But sadly, Iva doesn’t take no for an answer, pressing Birdie even more, but Birdie is staunch in her refusal.
“Aw come on dove! I did all that work just for you! How about a trade? This demon’s corpse for a quick night? I promise you’ll enjoy it! And I’m sure Isaac would be sooooo proud to see that you killed a demon all on your lonesome self!"
“I’m fine, really, Iva. Thank you for the generous offer.”
After Birdie turns her down a second time, the viciousness seems to emerge as I can imagine, no, literally see what's happening behind my eyelids. The imagination melding with my vision is truly weird when my eyes are closed, but at least this way hurts a lot less. Iva’s face twists into pure malice as she spits at Birdie’s feet.
“Fine then, you whore. I save your life and you can’t even give me a bit of attention? Have fun crawling to Isaac.”
I can only turn my head slightly before two cracks ring out in my ears along with a scream from Birdie. Her high-pitched wail and subsequent flop to the ground from her kneecaps being turned inwards by two kicks so quick that the rocks around us move several feet away from the air pressure. The strike to the one who just saved my life makes me prepare instinctively for a fight, the others who are standing nearby do the same, joining me in preparing for combat with a Supreme.
Ether roars through my body with a volume completely new to me as I breathe in a gasp of Ether, funnel Ether into my chains, and split my Daydream from my arm to guard my eyes as I open them. Strugglers Gasp, Defiance, and Daydream all together allow me to stand against Iva with open eyes, and she looks back at me.
But it seems as though only I am able to prepare sufficiently in time.
Johnny and Silas fall to their knees merely from her eyes, but I stare straight at her even as my knees begin to tremble, shake, and buckle. Getting an idea and remembering my recent advancement, I use my new Sigil skill for the first time, naming it Release. I focus the area of question on my kneecaps as I feel and see the chains on my knees completely break, sucking in Ether from the air all around without me even having to use much input. It's entirely different from any other skill. All it takes is my mind. Not even Ether to activate. Odd.
Instantly, I feel the power of my legs double if not triple, and only continue to rise as I stand straight and look at Iva directly. Her raging fires of blood in her eyes stare right back at me as a small smile is twisted on her face. I see her hand rise up as she clenches a fist, and I try to use Release again, attempting to learn its limits, but I feel a piercing pain enter my mind as I do so, Ether slipping through my metaphorical grasp. A feeling of inadequacy enters me as I almost lose grasp on all the Ether I hold. I guess I need more practice to do so.
The tension only rises as I look down at her, realizing that Iva, despite all her power, is shorter than me. A single second of us looking at each other lasts before Birdie screams out and breaks the tension.
“Don’t fight her! She’s just looking for a reason to kill you! We aren’t allowed to kill living humans unless attacked!”
Her words make me back down rapidly, slowing the Ether in my body to a grinding halt with a step backward. Iva seems to notice this as she kicks Birdie in the stomach, sending her tumbling dozens of feet before landing.
“Don’t ruin my fun! Do you know how long it’s been since I killed someone alive?! Felt the warmth leech out of their body onto my hands!? Oh, Devil, it’s been way too long.”
Iva then turns to me with an arched back and smiles from ear to ear.
“But you’re interesting, little one. What’s a child doing down here? And how come you didn’t fall? I could have sworn I put enough Fear in you to make a Virtue quiver.”
I look her in the eye as all my skills fade except for Daydream’s split that is allowing me to look at her with only slight pain in my eyes, leaving me with extreme weakness despite the short time frame in which I used them. And as I do, I feel a disconnection to my newly found skill, Release. I reach for it once more, trying to send the Ether back to my knees in the same way as earlier, but nothing happens. All I feel is emptiness as I grasp for the new skill. I try not to let any of this confusion appear on my face as I answer Iva.
“Can’t feel fear ma’am.”
She grins even further as she stands on her tippy toes to look me in the eye. I stand incredibly still even as the bloody fires of her eyes get within an inch of mine.
“Is that so? Hmm… I can see a bit of resemblance. Tell me child, do you know a Koral? Or a Hern?”
I nod before I can stop myself, the instinct of answering a question overpowering my realization that this is a probe for information.
She laughs as she figures out who I am with such a simple device.
“Ahah! Knew you had to be special. Hey, Birdie, why didn’t you tell me you had a lil’ Graves with you! Tell me, is Koral still alive, little one? And what’s your name?”
I shake my head at her first question and give her my name. The cats out of the bag from my fumble and making her happy is likely a smart thing to do. I don’t want to end up like Birdie over there who is trying to mend her broken bones and ruptured organs. Especially after I was told I can't be healed again.
“No, I’ve never met Koral, I just know she’s my grandmother. My father is Killian, if you know who that is, though. I’m Wyatt, ma’am.”
She reaches forward at me, and I try to lean back but she is far faster than I am. I try to defend myself thinking it’s an attack but all she does is squeeze my cheeks. My struggle ends with her twisting a tad to dodge my fist even at this close of range.
“Aww! That must mean something gobbled her up! I was hoping to see her again someday… welp shit happens. And aren’t you so respectful! Birdie, you see this? Call me ma’am from now on, okay? I quite like it.”
A quiet and painful “Yes, ma’am.” comes from behind me. A quick glance tells me that Birdie’s stomach that was kicked in has healed and her light has now moved onto fixing her knees so that she can move. Johnny and Silas still kneel next to me, looking straight at the ground without moving beside their trembles.
The whole situation is virtually owned by this lady. Should we do anything that angers her, we're dead. Or at least Birdie is. That rule of undead not being allowed to kill the living is new. Must not be told to the living normally. I just watch Iva in silence as she moves her head back and forth in thought for a few seconds. The whole area is in complete silence as even those asleep hold their breath. The woman in front of us plays no games but her own.
“Why you down ‘ere, Wyatt? Fancy some undead flesh, or are you after something?”
Despite how much I want to ask why she wants to know, I refrain myself. Those burning eyes of her and chains of Ether so dark purple they border on night keep me from overestimating myself.
“I’m looking for my fallen mentor, Edmund Dudley. I have something to ask him.”
She smiles even wider, to the point that it looks almost inhuman as the flesh on her mouth breaks, spilling blood onto her lips that she licks up.
“Oh, that’s no big deal. I can take you to Heights in a flash if you want. Your most likely to find him there if he’s still kickin’.”
I start to refuse her, but the shift in her face from a smile to a frown makes me change my mind and accept the gift she’s offering. The thought of Birdie on the ground keeps me from refusing.
“I’m—g—happy to take your offer. How will you get me there?”
She laughs again, reaching into the back of her shirt and pulling out an entire spinal cord. It is missing any signs of gore and blood, only made of bone and nerves that hang from it, but the bright violet glow, a color darker than magenta but lighter than midnight, makes me realize its power.
Iva is holding the spine of an Angel. One that had a Virtue no less.
“Just stand right there. Don’t move a muscle~!”
She starts to talk with a giddy voice as she uses the spinal cord like a whip to lightly tap me before lashing out into the distance.
The second a crack resounds from the whip of the spinal cord’s bones hitting each other, my vision shifts into a smashing of colors before I fall face-first into the hard dirt. Pissed off at her prank, I spit out dirt as I look up, but the surroundings are completely different.
Instead of the dark wastes bereft of any plants and only the only light being a lantern, I stand in a bustling city square full of undead, the fires of Undeath burning in the eyes of everyone passing by. A few look at me briefly, but just keep walking after a moment. Most of the people here are adorned with chains more powerful than mine with the very weakest being at my Sigil.
And in front of me lie two massive pillars that rise as far as I can see upward, their bodies a bright white and a dark black. The bottom of each holds words that I read instantly upon looking at them alongside the name just above the words that spiral seemingly endlessly upward. They do however share the same description at the bottom.
Ramond Bolton --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oscar Kidd
Heights Of Hope ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Depths Of Depravity
Those who have died for others to live. The fallen, the righteous, the apathetic, and even the evil shall be remembered on these stones. Gone, but never forgotten. Should one be willing to grasp toward Godhood and fight Hell at the highest level, one will be etched into these stones guaranteed. But remember. Even I cannot bring back Angels.
