by Ink Bamboo
Magnus frowned as stories from the past were brought to light. With a wave of his hand he decided to get this conversation out of his way. “Cut your bullshit, Argent. I’m doing you a favor by keeping the church and its paladins out of this, don’t make me change my mind.”
Hearing Magnus’s words, the face on the outlaw changed to one of mockery. “You call those failures Paladins? Please, they’re far from deserving the title. Don’t make me laugh with empty threats.”
Magnus’s face grew solemn. If the man in front of him wanted to remain quiet, he wouldn’t be able to get anything out of him.
Known as the master behind the curtains, Argent was a man who never revealed his face. He was someone only some apostles of death knew personally. It made extracting information about him an incredibly infuriating task. Thus, the rest of the world only knew him for his unholy ability to possess his subjects. And that was only because of how open he was with that technique.
Fortunately, Argent seemed to be in a good mood. An eerie smile plastered his face as he continued, “Well, I guess we used to get along quite well, Magnus. I’ll tell you a little, for old times’ sake.”
The outlaw’s expression then grew serious, a hint of killing intent seeping through his façade. “A couple of my disciples were killed by someone in Nyx, and I’m on my way to find the one responsible. This is nothing worth involving that bitch and her hounds on.”
“Is that it?” said Magnus. He seemed rather unconvinced by the outlaw’s words. Believing a man of faith was dangerous as they would stop at nothing to achieve their goals. “Would you be willing to swear an oath over it?”
“I would,” said Argent as hints of mockery seeped through his lips. “But as you can see, this is just a puppet carrying my brand in his soul. There’s no way to do an oath under these conditions, is there? Unless you’re satisfied with the life of a random man, of course.”
Magnus sighed in resignation. Argent’s words weren’t wrong. A truly binding oath required both the presence and will of those signing it. It wasn’t something that could be done through a proxy.
He was now at a crossroad. Magnus could take Argent’s word or intervene in the situation. Each decision with its own price. On one hand, it wasn’t the best time to antagonize the Church of Death. His plans regarding Erin’s freedom had entered a critical stage. On the other hand, giving the Church of Death freedom would always end up costing a price in an unmistakable coin — lives.
“I’ll need some more information if I’m to be inclined to believe you,” said Magnus, pondering his decision for a moment. “For you to send so many vessels, I can only assume you’re planning something big.”
The outlaw gave a cheeky smile. Blood was starting to seep out of his eyes while sweat poured out of every one of his pores. It was clear to see that the limit of the body he was personally using as a vessel was close to being reached.
Controlling a soul was different from branding and influencing them. The body of a simple man couldn’t contain Argent’s energy, at least not without the right conditions being met. It served as proof of the malignant strength hidden behind the puppet-master.
“I’ll tell you a single thing, Magnus. This business doesn’t involve you nor the Church of Light. It will be better for you to stop here. It’s in your best interest not to involve yourself any further.”
Magnus hesitated for a moment — knowing too much was sometimes a sin. Knowledge without power could bring destruction to oneself. Often times, ignorance could be bliss.
He was now at the peak of his magical career, carrying enough power to bring a fortress down on his own. However, that meant nothing to the man before him. Argent was someone beyond him in terms of both knowledge and power. Antagonizing him wasn’t in the best of his interests.
Fine.
After debating with himself for a while, Magnus decided to turn his back and leave. He didn’t care for the life of the broken vessel nor his unconscious companions. The amount of people able to read a life signature like him were incredibly small in this side of the continent. He was sure that Argent and his puppets would be able to carry on with their mission now that he took a step back.
His reasoning stemmed from a single point: Even if he interfered, Argent could still send another batch of puppets to achieve his purpose. He, on the other hand, had no real reason to involve himself as long as Erin’s safety wasn’t compromised. He doubted Argent’s target was somehow related to his or Erin’s mission.
Hopefully, the journey will be easier from now on.
Magnus returned to his party’s temporary camp. He looked slightly different from before, with a light shade of worry covering his face. A few droplets of blood also decorated his robe, a consequence of standing near the dying outlaw.
I might end up worrying Erin if I show myself like this.
It took Magnus the entire way back to his party to be able to erase the dread from his expression. Argent’s appearance spelled danger. If he was to keep his granddaughter away from it, it would be best to not let her suspect anything. Thus, he would have to carry this knowledge by himself.
The paladin initiates soon saw Magnus return on his own. They had already finished their meal and were preparing to move inside the worn-down fortress.
An expression of schadenfreude filled their faces as they saw the blood in Magnus’s robes. The members of the church carried contempt for those that went against their beliefs, causing them to rejoice for Magnus’s apparent actions. Outlaws had no place in their kingdom.
Erin only raised her eyes for a moment. Until a moment ago, she had still been glued to her book. Helping the paladin candidates take care of the luggage was not part of her responsibilities. As a future vessel for the will of the Goddess of Light, she only had to worry about tempering her faith.
No one spoke during the following minutes. Erin was busy reading while the initiates were busy carrying things inside. Magnus, on the other hand, was too busy thinking about Argent’s warning.
In that way, several minutes went by. Magnus spent most of his time looking at both the paladins and his granddaughter with resignation. Knowing nothing really made life so much simpler.
“This way.”
Following behind the paladins, Magnus moved instinctively towards a pair of rooms. As the leader of the entourage, it was his call which rooms he and Erin would take. After reaching the master bedroom he opened the door.
“You will take this room, Erin.”
The blonde-haired girl raised her eyes from her book. A dull sense of emotionless compliance adorned her face. Despite the luxury she was showered with on a daily basis, she didn’t care at all for something like her living quarters. As long as she had enough candlelight to read her books, she was okay with sleeping in the ground.
However, she had no reason to reject Magnus’s instruction. She didn’t turn back as she entered the room and said, “Goodnight, guardian.”
As the Chosen of the church, she had to maintain proper decorum. If her actions damaged her goddess’ image, she would have no way to offer repentance.
Magnus smiled weakly, reluctantly accepting Erin’s words. He had to hold himself back from giving her a hug when she addressed him by his title alone. Alas, even dry words like those were the most he got from her nowadays.
“Goodnight, Erin.”
He bowed his head, afraid of letting his emotions be seen through. Erin was far too young to bear the emotional burdens he carried on his back. Only after he heard the sound of the door closing did he dare raise his head, giving a sigh in resignation.
Magnus turned around to leave, taking the room closer to Erin’s. It was further down the hallway and probably used to belong to whoever had once served as the fort commander’s aide. He didn’t mind the simplicity. If anything, he appreciated a room without distractions. He had too much on his mind already.
The paladin candidates had also finished their preparations, quickly settling into their rooms. Two of th
em took the first shift as the rest prepared to sleep for a few hours. However, just before they departed to guard the outsides of the fort, Magnus came out of his room, pointing towards the paladin responsible for foraging herbs and mushrooms they had used on their meal.
“You take the first shift.”
Resigned, the man simply nodded his head. He comforted himself with the idea that he could deal with this much. He wasn’t tired, or so he told himself.
Just like that, the abandoned fortress returned to its usual quiet.
It’s about time, thought Magnus. His senses had been surveilling the insides of the fortress with far more details than the initiates would ever be able to achieve with their patrolling. Once most of the paladin candidates fell asleep, he opened a rift in space to take a few things out. A roll of papyrus, a jar of ink, and a golden quill. Three of a wizard’s best friends.
The papyrus contained the results of his past attempts at reading the flow of fate. By breaking this taboo, he had finally found some clues on how to save Erin. Unfortunately, he was uncertain on whether the cure was worse than the sickness. Placing her fate in someone else’s hands was something he found himself hesitant to accept.
His past divinations failed for a simple reason. He wasn’t skilled nor powerful enough to calculate the cause and effect of ‘that’ person’s actions. A shroud of complex machinations and imperceptible shadows covered each of that individual’s crossroads inside the river of fate.
His target was an aberrant. If a normal person had a few hundred threads of karma attached to them, this individual had a few hundred thousands more. Recognizing each of them was a task that required both time and luck that he had never possessed.
Overall, the situation left Magnus rather perplexed, for he had no other choice but to keep trying. At times like these, he had to gather all his strength of mind to persist. Nothing scared humans like uncertainty.
*Scratch, scratch.*
A dancing quill soon replaced the silence from his room. Magnus had no time to lose in useless lamentations. Patience and hard work had given him each of his achievements so far, and he wasn’t going to change that anytime soon.
Like a river, fate could take people to many destinations. Once a strong enough current dragged someone, they would be pulled away from their current route into a different one. This was Magnus’s bet.
Hours went by before Magnus placed down his ink-spent quill. The guards in the floor below him had already changed shift for the second time, bringing him to the realization that they would have to resume their trip very soon.
“Still no results, huh?” Even a mage could feel exhausted after constant failures. Magnus had greater patience than most, but even he couldn’t help but feel a bit of grievance when he failed this often.
He placed down his quill, storing everything away before straightening his back against his chair. Magnus could feel the years on his body, no longer the young man he used to be. He now carried wisdom, but he lacked the sharpness his mind used to have. Small failures like this reminded him how far past his prime he was.
Humans, such frail beings.
Even with the amount of mana coursing through his body, Magnus could feel his lifeforce dwindling. If only he had more time, more knowledge, maybe then he would be able to ensure better chances for Erin. Now, however, he had no choice but to embark into the unknown.
*Knock, knock.*
It was time. Time for departure, time to walk into the uncharted. Erin’s divine mission seemed easy at first, but Magnus knew the cardinal was keeping something from him by the fact that the goddess herself assigned the mission. Gods didn’t involve themselves in simple matters. Something big was coming.
✽✽✽
A group of six poorly clothed men stepped out of the woods. The mountain range could still be seen in the distance, enshrined by the setting sun ready to provide them with night’s cover. Their hands each carried an identical ring, something they no longer bothered to hide after being previously discovered.
“What a waste, truly,” said one of them. His gaze was planted on the thickets behind them. “Number three really wanted to catch our target and earn some merits for our lord before dying.”
Another one came up to him, placing a hand onto his shoulder. “It was his honor,” he said. “For him to shoulder Lord Argent’s will, it was a memorable death.”
“I suppose,” said the first man. His green eyes carried a spark of hatred. “Fine luck we had meeting Alexandra’s hounds.”
His partner, however, quickly waved his hands. “Hey, don’t mention that bitch’s name. Don’t you know it’s unlucky to refer to a god by their name?”
“We could have dealt with them,” answered another amongst the group. His brown hair seemed to cover his eyes. “It was that damn mage’s presence which forced us to behave the way we did. How humiliating...”
A fourth amongst them laughed, raising both of his hands in resignation. His head swung his black curls from side to side as he complained, “What use was it? He still saw through us. His reputation as a cunning bastard leaves nothing to the imagination.”
“It still doesn’t explain why Lord Argent treats him so politely,” said a fifth one amongst them. “I’ve only seen him treat his personal disciples with that much attention. The only exception might be lady Noelle.”
“Ugh,” said the brown-haired man, his body flinching in disgust. “Don’t even mention her name. The path of death is so ample yet she went ahead and obsessed over the undead puppetry arts. Some say she even likes using them as…”
Fortunately, the curly-haired man covered his mouth before he finished. “Don’t even say it. It makes me want to barf.”
The last of them, however, was thinking of something else. Despite being the youngest in the group he had managed to remain quiet until that point. “Still, why do you think Lord Argent lied to him? He clearly omitted the part where we’re looking after our god’s legacy.”
“Beats me,” said the man still covering the mouth of the brown-haired outlaw. “What the lord commands, I simply follow.”
“True, our lives are his,” responded another one of them. His uncaring smile spoke volumes of his aloofness.
The rest simply chuckled at his answer. They all seemed nonchalant by the implication of their partner’s words. Simple vessels they were. Not by a lack of individuality, but by a clearly defined purpose.
“We will have to fill Number Three’s missing spot though.”
“I guess we can stop by a village on our way there,” answered the curly-haired man. He was busy cleaning his hands on his shirt after being bit by the target of his censorship.
The youngest amongst them stopped, his fingers rising to massage his brows. After a few seconds, he turned back to the rest, releasing the lock on his brows. “You make a fair point. It will be the honor of the citizens of this land to carry Lord Argent’s will.”
The rest laughed, continuing on their merry way. The death of their partner had no effect on them. They welcomed death. As men with a clearly defined goal, they knew that the meaning of their life was to give purpose to their death. People rejected their ways but they didn’t care. They were not crazy, they were simply death’s apostles.
Chapter 06
Introductions.
The light of a new morning dawned upon the skies. A bright scenery full of budding grass greeted Magnus’s party as they traversed the mountain range. Once they crossed these mountains, they would be in the so-called ‘Independent Territories.’ Their true mission would start from there.
One of the paladin candidates approached Magnus in his horse. “Should we go in the front to scout, sir?” he asked. The meeting with yesterday’s outlaws had made them wary to whatever dangers the mountain might hide. They wouldn’t be able to forgive themselves if something happened to their Chosen or the mission.
Magnus thought about it for a moment, his eyes closing lightly before giving an answer.
“T
here is no need for that,” he said. “It will be more effective for me to use my magic to scan the area.”
A trace of disappointment flashed on the face of the initiate paladin. Magnus’s casual attitude in regards to the use of magic was a clear slap to the face of his faith. He gathered his courage, intent on saying something. However, much to his fortune, Erin spoke before he had a chance to.
“I think they should go ahead,” she said, closing her book of scriptures. “It’s a valuable experience for them to get familiar with the environment surrounding the theocracy. It will help them serve the church better in the future.”
The paladin candidates rejoiced when presented with their Chosen’s defense. The initiate who had been shot down by Magnus couldn’t help but voice his appreciation.
“Thank you, miss,” he said. “It’s an honor to be offered you consideration.”
Erin, however, didn’t answer back. Instead, she returned to reading her book as her horse trotted along the road. Words flowed scarcely from her mouth, much like water in the desert. Many even held the mistaken belief that she had taken an oath of silence. Therefore, the fact that she had defended him was much more significant.
Magnus, on the other hand, reflected upon his granddaughter’s words. Coming to a compromise with himself, he chose not to disregard Erin’s request. As a grandfather, he couldn’t help but be a little doting when it came to small matters like this.
“Alright,” he said. “Two of you will scout ahead, I’ll place our party’s safety in both of your hands. Do not disappoint me.”
In the end, it wasn’t like he couldn’t use magic without them realizing it. The disparity in their strength meant there was an insurmountable barrier their senses couldn’t overcome.
It didn’t take long for two of the initiates to go ahead of the group. The look of pride in their faces revealed how eager they were to prove their worth to their Chosen. The only reason they took as long as they did was a brief game of rock-paper-scissor employed to decide who amongst them would receive the honor of being the ones to scout ahead.