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Chapter 230 - TFF
🕑 Added 2024-10-14 11:07:07 +0000 UTCI'm so very sorry. I was too sleepy and didn't notice I hadn't copied the chapter properly. Here it is.
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It was insistent, like a storm behind the thin window pane, making one think that it would shatter the fragile glass and surge inside. A thumping that was both low and ominous. This was not Enid, nor was it Odu with all his oddities. Something else had come.
Enid had warned him that other spirits would want to visit, but right now…? When he was still healing, weakened, and confused? At the precise moment Rust had taken his last breath as his vitality was sucked dry? What were the odds?
“W-what’s happening?” Mayra asked in a voice that barely held from cracking.
Alan turned toward her with wide eyes and pulled her closer without thinking. This wasn't good. With his title and ownership of the domain, he was protected. What about her though? As a guest of one like him, a true dweller, she would probably not become a target for dangerous spirits.
The thumping got more insistent, and Alan started feeling it in his soul. Like someone was hammering on the doors of his very mind, trying to peel the layers of will protecting it. An intrusive thought so insistent it was threatening to overwhelm all else. Enid had also said very few spirits could encroach into the domain of another, but that didn’t mean much to Alan. He knew little of spirits and their ways. Each one was unique so far, and gauging their strength was impossible. The things they’ve shown him…
“We have a guest. I need you to stay quiet and remain close to me at all times. Do not antagonize whatever comes, and do not engage. Do you understand?” Alan warned.
Something in his voice seemed to make her tremble. It was not Alan’s intention to terrify the girl, but it was better this way. His words were not a suggestion, and while all of the previous interactions with spirits had been mostly friendly, there was bound to be a bad side to things. Alan was sure his luck was finite.
With thought, the dark curtains shrouding his little peace of the Spirit World from the rest of it parted. He caught only a glimpse of vast mists and nothing else before a being slipped through. Its body was hidden by a tattered cloak but its limbs were made of pieces of dry flesh and black sticks of wood. Like a scarecrow from a terrible horror movie. The head was the worst of it, being far too large for the otherwise thin stick body— one large glowing eye with the second one much smaller and closed. No nose. Mouth with serrated teeth and bleeding skin all around it. The head was wide, and for a moment Alan thought it was a pumpkin, but the reality was much worse—a jumble of flesh and body parts, cramped together. There were other faces on the sides of it made of different features.
The one open eye stared at Alan.
“Human of shadows and void. Human of dragon blood. Friend of the spirits. You bring a mortal’s death to us.”
The voice was like an orchestra of chainsaws rubbing against the synapses of Alan’s brain. He felt his mana tremble inside him as the healing ceased at once. The world was bleaker for the creature as it towered over them. Mayra was trembling.
“I greet you, spirit. May I ask your name, and for what reason you’ve wished to visit my humble domain?”
It remained unmoving. Staring.
“Death calls. Others come, but we’re first. So long…”
Shit. Did I make a mistake bringing Rust here?
“Do you mean the human that died? I didn’t mean for that to happen. If I’ve ruined your peace—”
“Death calls,” it repeated. “A mortal’s death. A masterless soul. Others come; they’re barred. None dare.”
This was not good. Enid and Odu were like humans. Merchants. This thing was far removed from any notion of humanity. Alan couldn’t understand what it wanted or meant. What others were coming? He briefly wondered if he could somehow call on Enid or Odu for help.
The head spun and the large glowing eye closed, as another face came into focus. This was more humanoid in nature. An outline with once again a single eye.
“Human of many words. Give us the remnants of the mortal so we can take his soul. Name a price.”
Another voice, containing in itself screams and pleas. Alan felt the strength leave him, and even the vitality he had stored seemed to wane in power. Worst and most terrifying of all was that the voices in his head had quietened down too. If the shadows were careful and afraid… He briefly wondered if name-dropping would achieve anything, but considering how he was feeling, he gave up on that. Pissing that thing off felt like a bad idea. The fact that they were in Alan’s own domain, where he was supposed to be safe, was not comforting at all.
He had planned to learn a lot by using [Will of the Dead] on Rust’s body, but that was no longer an option. As long as things ended well, he didn’t mind the loss. Perhaps he could still profit…
“Great spirit, I’m honored by your presence. I, of course, am open to reaching an agreement. I do not know the price of human death, so… make me an offer.”
He almost regretted the words as soon as he said them. The head spun again and the creature moved toward him both so fast and so slow that it seemed impossible. Alan felt like it was a movie scene of a monster walking toward him, with all the little details in its sticks for limbs glued together by dry flesh and twine being the focus of creating the atmosphere. And yet, it was but the shortest moment of his life.
A headache threatened to split his head as the spirit lowered itself to his level and the head spun again. Yet another face was before him. The flesh of this one was dry and cracked, and through the cracks, he could see wiggling worms. It took all he had to not let terror win.
This voice, was more bearable, at the very least. It thundered, but it was human enough although it felt like there was an echo to each word and syllable. As if all of it was repeated in a language his trait couldn’t quite decipher.
“Mortal death is rare here. A soul cannot move on from the Spirit World. It remains forever trapped until it too becomes a spirit, or is caught and tamed. A soul, so ripe, so untouched by the universe. To offend so many, to steal a soul from the lake of oblivion and trade it away… We are of truth, and we are of endings, human. We yearn for your arrogance and deceit. We’ll offer you three things, for the body and soul of the one lying dead here, and next time you will offer us three, and we’ll give one. So it shall be. Three for one, and one for three. No more or less.”
Alan felt a wet palm grasp his and squeeze. Or perhaps it had always been there. Mayra was kneeling next to him, her eyes shut tightly, her body shaking. He barely managed to remain standing. The being before him simply had a presence. It was not an aura or will, but its very nature. Something in it made Alan more terrified than he had been in some time. Perhaps the Bone Lord itself was lesser than this being… No. It was almost certain.
Before him stood something above the mighty patrons, or perhaps something on the level of a God. He resolved to ask Enid more of the Spirit World if he survived this ordeal.
“We will give you a piece of our shadow, to hide you from the eyes of the usurpers,” the spirit said. “No one in the realms shall judge you for your theft, as long as we walk the darkest depths.”
“We will offer a boon of magic which you will tame, or it will destroy you. Its nature will be aligned with yours.”
“Lastly, we will offer a word.”
Alan waited for any sort of explanation, but none came. What the being was offering, apart from the first one which was pretty clear, was utter nonsense to him. A boon of magic that could destroy him? Why would he want that? He already had plenty of those considering his heritage and the dragon blood.
The last offer was the worst. A word? It certainly had meaning in spiritual terms, but to Alan, it was just a blind gamble. A chance. And who was to say the spirit would not trick him and get him into some strange deal? Dealing with them was dealing with the devil and he didn’t want to screw it all by being greedy. He took a deep breath and prepared himself. He had to trust his domain, and the rules of the Spirit World, even if he didn’t know what they were quite well. Agreeing blindly was suicidal.
“No offense grand spirit, but I cannot know that you wish me well. I’ve already been lied to by other spirits. The price you offer is fair, but… I do not understand it.”
The spirit didn’t explode in anger, thankfully. It would’ve been a human reaction, and this particular one didn’t seem quite human. For once, Alan was glad about that. The face spun again, returning to its original position—the large open eye, and the smaller shut one.
“Doubt. Distrust,” the face said with its chainsaw voice. “We cannot lie. We are of shadows and death, and you are of shadows and void. We cannot lie.”
Alan shook his head and felt the vitality he had stored churn as if it was boiling. His mana was slowly returning under his control as he got more and more used to the disturbing presence, but the process was slow. It was also certain that he couldn’t fight if it came to that. It was impossible. Even the dragon that had gripped his neck back in the fractal was a more manageable opponent.
The spirit changed faces yet again, but it shuffled between them for a while this time around. Unable to stop on one, it took a step back, then the flesh moved. The large bulbous head grew smaller and all the faces retracted until a human head rested upon the shrouded torso and the bundle of sticks supporting it.
“Friend of the Court of Roses, do not doubt us,” the new human face said. It rapidly shifted between masculine and feminine features and so did the voice. “We swear in the name of the Thorn That Bled the Universe that truth is all we offer. It is a respect to the death, and the souls chained by the usurpers. So many lost… so many suffering.”
The words sent a jolt through Alan’s mind, but also seemed to affect the world itself. He felt his domain shake and a strange mist that brought morning dew upon the plants Enid had sown quickly covered everything. Whatever discomfort remained in his body disappeared alongside its appearance. This was the first time someone was acknowledging Thorn’s existence in such a way. Was the touch of the strange spirit still that visible? And did it carry so much weight?
He knew Enid and Odu had noticed something, but they had refused to elaborate, and Alan hadn’t dug into it. Now, though… This was an opportunity. A great one.
“Do you know Thorn?”
“We are the harvesters of souls. The reapers of the lost. We know of all. We have sworn, and the world will punish us if we lie. Decide, guide of the broken.”
Well, that’s scary…Was he just an open book to the spirit? And did that mean that he could reject the offer, and be safe? For all he knew, the being before him was a vulture. Something dark and twisted that was unlike other spirits. But wasn’t Alan dark and twisted too? And how funny was it that it allegedly couldn’t lie… like Rosalyn?
“Do you swear in the name of Thorn that the price you pay is sufficient and that you don’t aim to cheat me?”
“We are of truth. We are of endings and guidance. We’ve sworn, and shall do so again.”
The Spirit World pulsed again, and Alan could almost taste the strange magic in the air.
“Very well. I accept your offer. Give me a piece of your shadow, the gift of magic, and the word, and you can have Rust’s body and soul.”
“Three for one, one for three. So it shall be, friend.”
A piece of shadow flew out of the spirit’s gaping maw before the face shifted again. It floated before Alan like a flame, along with a jar, and a bunch of symbols on tattered parchment.
Comments
Themo Grulld
This one is very epic.
Dual.
tftc
Luis
Thanks for the chapter
