Saithorthepyro
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Chapter 60 - Introspection III
🕑 Added 2025-07-06 06:17:14 +0000 UTCI made it ten seconds down the tunnel before I was contemplating turning back.
It wasn’t the light, as even though there were no light sources, I somehow could see as if lanterns hung along the entire tunnel. I doubted my changes had made me able to see in the dark. More likely the same reason I could stare at the sun without my eyes burning. Fey magic followed even less ironclad rules than most magic, and apparently my entire mind was dwelling inside it.
No, why I stopped was because of a simple enough question. Why was I doing this? The words of three fey spirits claiming that Tagashin had sent them into my head? The wink of what could have been Tagashin, but easily could have been something else.
What, my mind couldn’t think of, but that didn’t matter when I was eager to embrace any possibility besides the only one laid out to me.
I sighed, leaning against a wall. The tunnel had turned from carved stone to the brickwork of newer constructions underground. The ones more taken over by the Imperial government, where the solid carved walls of the dwarves had been replaced by the truest representative of Imperial might, the regulation standard brick.
I only hoped I wasn’t as annoying as those three had been at times. If so, I owed quite a number of people apologies. Just on principle, not anything specific I could think of. Still, did I trust them?
They were infuriating, but not because I thought they were shifty. Although I didn’t doubt the Thief couldn’t lie her way out of the Coffin if needed. How I’d dreamt of doing that even before I lost my first set of fingers.
Knowing they were line didn’t make being around them easier of course. Didn’t make feeling like I was lesser any easier. But they were likely telling the truth. And maybe going down first was a mistake. Hells knew I had enough skeletons in my closet already to make a journey into said closet uncomfortable.
Of course, going back meant dealing with them. But who said I only had two ways to go?
I tentatively prodded the wall with my fingers, pushing insistently at it.
A brick pushed through, and I raised an eyebrow. Okay, let's just ignore that the metaphor for my mind contained weak structures; this was an alternate path. Maybe just another door like those three had talked about, but it wasn’t being herded in a single direction. Beyond the hole where the brick had been was nothing but inky blackness, a void that swallowed all light.
I pulled a small stick from inside my coat, paused a second while I tried to figure out where it had come from. Fey logic. Don’t question it. I poked the void and withdrew the stick unharmed and untouched. I could feel a small chill, the air coming from beyond the brickwork just a mite colder than the tunnel.
A solid ten minutes of work opened a hole large enough for me to stick my head through. Despite being wider, my tail hadn’t lost its usefulness in contributing an additional limb to the effort. Even better, it no longer acted on its own. Please let that be how it was outside of this place.
I worked a little longer, pushing brickwork free til I could get my shoulders past. I prodded the darkness again with the stick and my finger. Nothing happened but a slight chill on my knuckles, and I frowned. So this was just normal darkness? Normal to an extent, most darkness wasn’t just a defined line.
I leaned in just a little, and suddenly I was surrounded by nothing but darkness, tumbling through an empty void. What the Hells? I hadn’t even felt like I’d been pulled through or anything like that!
My fins extended, the extended membranes catching on the wind and balancing me some. Useful. I managed to get myself upright, eyeing the darkness underneath uncomfortably. It was impossible to gauge distance, and the wind rushing by gave the impression of passing distance, but who knew how long til-
Sight returned to me suddenly, a world of grey and blacks moments before my hoofs hit the ground.
I rolled reflexively, tucking my head in and keeping myself from sprawling across the ground. I sprang to my feet, nothing really but claws and teeth to fight with.
The ground beneath my hooves was damp soil sparsely populated by dying grass, occupying the spaces in between gravel walkways spreading out across the graves. Haphazardly spread, there was no discernible pattern or landmarks to any of this. Occasionally, a tomb among the gravestones, sometimes with a statue of Zaviel or Halspus or another deity. Off in the distance, rotting wooden fences marked the outer edges of this place, and beyond them, roiling fog that swirled about.
Sometimes those swirling patterns have the impression something was moving inside it. Darker shadows pushed up right against the edge, but then the fog moving away revealed nothing standing there. Still, best not to venture too close.
I looked among the crumbling graves and tombs, then sighed.
“Graveyards hold no fear for me,” I said loudly. “Arguably less than the underground does. What, are the dead going to walk and devour me?”
Actually, perhaps not something I should tempt it with. I didn’t have a weapon on hand, attempting to reach for my diabolism would be a horrible idea, and I did not want to spend the next half hour keeping my distance from the ravenous dead.
Although maybe I’d prefer them ravenous and unthinking, since the alternative would be-
“Hell’s sake Harrow, why is it the first thing I got to see in my afterlife is your traitorous, imperial boot-licking ass?”
I turned around, teeth at the ready, pausing as I saw the owner of that familiar voice.
Golvar stood behind me, leaning against one of the gravestones. His corpse, because that is what it was, leaned against the side of a tomb, sneering at me. As much as he could sneer, rotting lips peeling off of his skull.
He still bore the injuries from the fight with the Purebloods, but they weren’t as noticeable. Not when his body bore more rot than should have been possible. Fungi grew from rotted, bug-gnawed flesh that looked as if it had been decaying underground for years, not the mere months since his death. One arm barely hung on, while the second was a patchwork of barely there skin and decayed sinew. His face was barely holding onto his skull, parts of it peeling away.
“Golvar,” I replied. “You look well. Better than I’ve ever seen you in fact.”
His rotting ear finished tearing, falling down on the ground with a wet thud. I scanned that ground quickly for a weapon, finding nothing but scattered chunks of gravestone.
“Real fucking funny Harrow,” Golvar snarled, before cocking his head to the side, his last rotting eye squinting, a maggot crawling out of his tear duct. “You're a fish. An ugly fish. Why the fuck did you become a fish?”
“I did not have much of a choice,” I shot back, keeping a wary distance from the talking corpse. “And even as a fish, I’d say I look much better than you do. You literally have carrion eaters crawling over you.”
Golvar shrugged, dislodging an earwig fisting on the mushrooms protruding from his shoulder. “Yeah? I still don’t look like the catch of the day, which is what you resemble. Hells’ sake, I knew swimming in the Nover could do nasty things to you, but I never expected this.”
“I did not go swimming in the Nover,” I snapped as something long and with far too many legs wiggled out of his decayed nostril. “As for imperial boot-licking, it kept me alive. Unlike how keeping with Versalicci kept you.”
“Yeah?” he sneered, small bits of his lips falling to the ground below. “At least I have my dignity knowing I died for a cause instead of bending over and begging the Imperials ‘Oh no, I’ll be a good lil’ doggy, please keep me alive! I’ll do whatever you say masters, just please don’t kill me!’ For fuck’s sake, have some self-respect Harrow. Then again, what else could be expected from someone who measures friendship and loyalty by how long it lasts till you either knife them in the back or turn tail and run.”
Calm breaths. “Repeating what Versalicci did after you died was the perfect reminder I needed that this is all in my head, thank you.”
“Oh please, like someone needed years to puzzle out what you were like,” Golvar said with a sneer. “You think that fancy, sophisticated veneer fooled anyone? Sure, early on you either had us fooled or hadn’t been blooded yet, but after? The only that got close was the fucking lunatic and you two crazies had fun times biting each other. I’m shocked the boss didn’t have you two killed, a pair of maniacs with diabolism who alternated between ice-cold killers who barely showed any signs of warmth to anyone, then in a second to a pair of lovesick creeps who made out over your kills.”
I gritted my teeth. Do not get engaged in this. “If this is the grand challenge my mind has to present, I’m a little disappointed. Can you even move without your legs snapping in half Golvar?”
He cackled, a dry heaving thing that sent clumps of grey rotting flesh to the ground. “Harrow, your claim on my death is barely a claim at all. I made my bed, dragged you to its side, then lay in it. In what way would I be the worse one?”
I froze. I’d heard something briefly. A clack like a hoof hitting a piece of stone, only far too close. Far too close, even with how my enhanced hearing had suddenly deserted me in the ship’s main deck.
The mist continued to swirl around us both. That easy lighting that had illuminated the two of us before was gone. Now I strained my eyes trying to peer further inside as I scooped a chunk of broken gravestone off the ground. Not an ideal weapon, but it would have to do.
“Hey, put that down! You aren’t respecting your elders very much, ripping up chunks of my last resting place!”
I was pretty sure the Watch had either incinerated Govlar’s corpse or put it to use as compost.
The fog had by now crept far past the fences by now, hemming me in on all sides. Figures were definitely moving inside it as well. I gripped the chunk of rubble, hefting it. Worse came to it, I could throw it and run.
One of them finally moved into sight, swirling bits of mist clinging to their decayed form as they moved toward me.
The rotting figure was a Watch officer, blackened and charred flesh hanging off their skeleton in strips. A ragged, burnt uniform hung loosely from charred bones, eyeless bone sockets staring at me from a frame scoured of flesh. I couldn’t tell if male, female, or anything else, the flesh was so charred and burnt.
I paused for a second, waiting to see if it would say anything. Instead, it continued lurching forward.
“Aw, it wants a hug,” Golvar snarked from behind me. “Come on, Harrow, be a little comradely to the fellow.”
Definite evidence this was my mind masquerading as Golvar. I was pretty sure he didn’t know words like “comradely”.
“Do you wish to speak?” I asked the rotting figure. Ten steps now before it would withing swiping distance of me. “If not, I will use this to bash your face in.”
Eight steps now. I hefted the rock threateningly, aiming at one of the legs instead of the head. For the dead, best to leave them crippled and unable to move. Some undead wouldn’t survive their head getting pulped. Not all of them.
Six steps and the rock flew. I ran to the side, watching as the stone hit the knee, shattering the bone underneath the threadbare uniform. The corpse fell, arms scrambling forward as it tried to drag itself forward even as it hit the ground.
It swiped at me as I passed, but there was too much distance between us for it to do more than lay a finger on my hoof and-
-agony as black flame poured down the tunnel. The entire patrol was being consumed, flames scouring everything at their checkpoint, nothing but unending pain as flesh melted and bubbled. She screamed a soundless scream as the tarry flames ate the insides of her throat even as they wouldn’t let her die as they ate her to the bones.
I broke free of the memory, feeling fingerbones grabbing at my thighs as the corpse tried to pull itself up towards my face. I kneed it in the chest, shattering bones and nothing else as it ignored the blow. My hands scrambled, found another broken chunk of stone and smashed it into the skull. Bone shattered as I pulled myself out of its grasp, ripping hands from its wrists.
Back on my hooves, I retreated from it, panting heavily. That flash of memory had completely swallowed me. I hadn’t been able to do anything but live it, feel the hellfire eat at every part of me, making sure I still lived until every nerve had been burned to dust.
More figures were emerging. A whole variety of the dead, although most were either Infernals or clad in the uniforms of the Watch. No guesses for who they were supposed to represent.
I eyed a nearby tomb. The chances that a view from a higher ground would help were weighed against giving these creatures a place to converge on. The former won out. I doubted these creatures would have difficulty finding me.
I scrambled to the top as the fog closed in, making it to the top. All around me, more fog swirled, covering everything. There was no sun in this place, nothing but solid darkness a few dozen meters beyond the fencing.
Going there wasn’t likely to improve things much, but I didn’t have any other option. It was this or fight the pack of corpses.
I moved to the wall, getting ready to jump down below. There didn’t appear to be any undead down there. Then something brushed against my shoulder.
I was in a ballroom, saber in hand, fresh tattoo burning on the back of my hand. We’d charged in, inductees to the Black Flame, here to bring some of the pain in our lives to these noles. Revenge for my siblings dead of the scarlet fever decades past. Pain, pain as an Infernal bit into my throat, teeth cleaving through as she placed herself between us and them. Why? Why defend them.
I came out of the memory as I hurtled to the ground, screaming as I hit it back first. My coat stopped the worst of it. The rocks couldn’t punch through its fabric.
The dead Infernal lurched out of the mists, head precariously perched on a torn apart throat. His jaws opened, revealing a row of razor-sharp teeth that could.
My tail wrapped around his hoof, yanking it back, tripping him. My hoof lashed out, hitting his skull in the middle of his forehead. Dead skin and flesh tore, bone was punched inwards, then his spine snapped, the head sent flying off into the distance.
I felt something rise in my throat, an apology mixed with bile.
It tried to grab at me with its hands, but I scrambled up. My tail blocked a blow from his, and then I was running once again.
Okay, running on the gravestones risked becoming unbalanced. And swipes at my legs that only my tail could block. Already risking that they could grab a hoof and leave me mostly at their mercy. Inflicting memories of their deaths on me was disorienting and debilitating while I lived it, even if only for an instant. Worse that had left a feeling in the pit of my stomach I did not like.
More figures came lurching out. Watch, Infernals, all of whom tugged on my memories as I weaved in between them. I could barely put names to a few, but I could put memories to their deaths.
Especially when they managed to lay a finger on me, each time sending me to the moments of their deaths.
A hundred deaths by gunshot, by sword, by hellfire and teeth and other things. Each time deeper, longer to come back, and each time with a corpse over me.
They weren’t trying to kill me, or even strike, merely grasping me, but I wasn’t going to wait and see what happened after. Despite the lack of attacks, each time I came back, I felt weaker, drained. I was half-running, half-stumbling now, hooves nearly sliding as I rounded another corner of gravestones, making my way away from a pair of dead watch and some fucking noble I’d drowned.
I’d made it to the front of another tomb when a much more familiar corpse crossed my path. One I recognized, ruined throat and all.
“Pieter,” I said to it, voice ragged. “I will not hesitate to put you down a second time to stay alive, so step aside.”
The corpse lurched forward, face dispassionate, but the shreds of flesh hanging from the massive bite mark across his throat and face looked like an accusatory scowl.
“Fine,” I said, picking up another chunk of masonry. “I live through your death once, I can live through it twice. You don’t think I know how it feels to get my throat bitten out by now? Trust me, it’s hardly worse than the feeling of flesh between your teeth.”
False bravado. I’d taken too long. Others were moving in from all sides, closing in. Cursing, I rushed forward, trying to find a gap.
A touch, and I was sent back into my past once again, into a memory for even longer.
***
My eyes opened, beholding once again the roof of my room. I could hear the sounds of the ocean’s water outside my room, and getting up, in the same hallway as the first time. I breathed in deeply, then screamed.
Comments
Baumlaus
Again... worth the wait! ty! :)
