A sticky gurgling came from the puddle before it became smooth as a mirror, its reflection showing Habbad in the woods. He had a squealing mirak cornered against a hulking fern. The little creature jumped and clawed its way away up the bark, only to slide back down as though pulled by invisible weights. Indigo lightning shot from Habbad’s fingers, striking the mirak with a sizzling crack each time it attempted to escape.
“Really?” Kreed said into the mirror. “A mirak?”
Habbad jumped. The mirak seized the momentary distraction and shot off into nearby underbrush. Habbad’s wrinkled face darkened into a frown as he cast a hand out to the mirak. A high screeching rang from the mirror as Habbad’s spell dragged the creature back to him.
“You said I could choose any one I wanted,” Habbad said, turning his face towards the mirror.
Kreed pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and first finger. “Yes, I certainly recall saying that, but why wouldn’t you go for something a bit more formidable? You know for a fact that your first Domina will have the greatest effect on you.”
Habbad’s eyes fell to the ground. He raised his hand and hooked his fingers into claws. The mirak floated into sight, its limbs and tail stretched straight out as it screeched in mortal terror. Habbad returned his gaze to Kreed, his tone becoming defensive. “I am well aware of the nuances of Domina possession. I chose the mirak for good reason. They are the most ferocious fighters I’ve ever seen and regularly take down prey many times their size. And I do recall a certain mirak giving you some trouble not too long ago.”
“That it did. And if I were not so pressed for time I would have lit a plague-fire on the entire forest and rid the land of the parasitic blighters. What you do with your soul is your choice my son, though I wouldn’t be doing my duty as your father if I didn’t question your motives.” Kreed peeled the mirror from the wall and aimed it at Talin. “Now, for our other little project. You will notice he seems ready to make the leap, but I want you to come verify.”
“He does look ready, but I’m busy.” Habbad’s voice echoed across the cell. “You can do it better than I can anyway.”
“Come now, Habbad.” Kreed spun the mirror back around. His tone was patronizing, but thick notes of menace stabbed through. “You were the one who first broke into his mind. You were a bit more forceful than necessity called for, as you very well know. His mental scars belong to you and you alone. Should I enter him, my foreign presence would set him back a great deal. It’s bad practice, sloppy work. You’ll come down here and finish the job, now.”
“But…” Habbad’s head turned towards the mirak. “I’ve been working on this for hours. If I leave now I’ll lose everything. I’m very close to breaking its will. Give me just another hour.”
The mirror shook in Kreed’s hand, the shards of his broken teeth bared as darkness filled the room. His voice became a venomous wind: “I’ll give you an eon of terror and melt you to your nightmares if you don’t come to me now. It is not lost on me that you seek the mirak’s submission for personal reasons. I can see your envy, even through the mirror. You wish to be bonded to a mirak because the human is bonded to one with Passion. TELL ME I AM WRONG!”
Habbad’s face slackened with dread. “You are not wrong, Father Kreed.”
Kreed sneered. He ran his tongue over his jagged teeth, his voice hissing with restrained fury. “Of course I’m not wrong. I know you, Habbad. I know everything you’re made of. Never forget, I am the one tugging your strings. Your Fear, your hope and shame, all of it is mine. Don’t give me reason to use them against you, lest you desire another audience with sweet Lexy.”
“No, Father Kreed. My apologies, Father Kreed.” Habbad’s voice trembled as he dropped his head.
“Well then, that’s settled.” Kreed shook his head as though shooing a fly. He resumed his usual exuberance. “You, young man, have a job to do. Take your little prize with you if you want, but I expect you within a half hour. Don’t dawdle, our warrior grows more lucid by the minute. And fetch Florien on your way, won’t you?”
“Right away, Father Kreed.” Habbad nodded, dashing out of the mirror’s frame, his mirak floating behind him.
Kreed laughed, tossing the mirror aside as it shattered into purple smoke. “Kids these days. I swear I wasn’t such a ripe little bastard when I was his age. My father would have boiled my marrow if I were half as flippant as that one.” He raised an eyebrow to Talin, checking to see if he was listening.
Talin was now swaying in small circles, tiny moans slipping out of his cracked lips. He gazed straight out into nothing as Baedine returned to eating her meal.
“Finally coming ‘round?” Kreed asked, his voice feathery and soothing as he removed his snow-white jacket and hung it off a nail in the wall. “Very good. You need to be in tip-top shape for this next part. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’ve never done this before. We’re not blazing any new trails so to speak, but for me this is uncharted.” Kreed rolled his sleeves and sucked on his lip, inspecting Talin’s lifeless form. “Come now Talin, let’s get you cleaned up at least. I may even remember a trick or two with Passion to spruce you up a bit. If not I’m sure Florien can do something.”
Kreed hoisted Talin to his feet, carrying him over to a deep wash basin in the corner of the room. He cracked open a valve and cold water rushed out, filling the hollow. Kreed began humming a sweet lullaby as he stripped the soiled clothes from Talin with tender hands. He lowered Talin into the basin. The broken warrior moaned like a child at the sting of the chilly water.
“Oh dear, that must be terribly cold,” Kreed apologized before waving a casual hand over the tub. “There, how’s that?”
Steam rose from the water as Talin released an involuntary sigh of pleasure.
Kreed took a sponge and chunk of soap from a shelf embedded in the wall, and sat himself in a stool behind Talin. He massaged the sponge into a thick lather and set to washing Talin from head to toe, cooing his lullaby all the while.
Talin began weeping, rejoicing in the momentary solace from the phantoms. For now at least, all he had to do was relax and enjoy the simple pleasures of the hot water and soothing aromas. He didn’t need to be anyone, or do anything. For now, he could unclench his screaming mind and indulge in his empty soul.
“Bit of an oddity, me washing you up. Don’t you think?” Kreed asked, wringing out a sponge. “A month ago I would have a whole team of Underkin clean you up. I daresay the little critters would do a better job than I could.” Kreed sighed, working the sponge into a fluffy lather once more. “But we no longer have such luxuries. I knew it was ambitious of me to use our entire stock on the Devotion, and now here I am doing their work and lamenting their absence. I could of course order one of the priests or aristocrats to wash you up. But then I’d never hear the end of the complaining, the rumors, oh you wouldn’t believe the attitude. You would think I was asking them to shovel shit with a spoon! Then of course I’d have to kill whoever found out about you. You’re top secret, you know. Highly classified. No one else knows about you besides Habbad, Florien, and The Three. Even the guards that worked on Pineah were disposed of. Does any of this at least tickle your curiosity?”
Kreed’s mouth curved into a frown as he raised an expectant eyebrow. Talin heard every word, but he couldn’t care any less. His curiosity had been taken from him at the bottom of the pit.
Kreed let out a long, low whistle. He lowered his lips until they were touching Talin’s ear. “My my, you’re quite the empty shell aren’t you. You’re nearly there, my son. Just one more test to be sure there’s nothing left. I promise it will be over soon.”
“I have nothing. I am nothing,” Talin responded with a hoarse, robotic voice.
It was true. Talin hadn’t a thing left to offer. He vaguely recalled a treasure chest of memories, but he couldn’t remember its contents. The chest had long rotted in places forgotten. He couldn’t recall a life before this moment.
“What do you mean by that
?” Kreed asked, clasping both hands on Talin’s shoulders.
“I no longer have the memories,” Talin croaked. “I feel I was supposed to be guarding secrets from you, but they’re gone. Everything is gone, even my loyalty. I would give it all to you now if I knew what it was. I no longer care for the fate of this world. I have nothing more for you. I am nothing.”
“Oh come now,” Kreed scoffed. “Don’t be such a pessimist, brave warrior. You most certainly are not nothing. You have potential to be as great as I. Potential that will be tapped very soon, unless I am woefully mistaken.”
“You are mistaken,” Talin said, his voice rising to a slightly louder whisper. “I have nothing more. You broke me. You’ve ruined all of me. I am barren.”
Kreed’s voice dropped into a seductive, leathery tone. Talin could hear his manic grin through his words. “My dear warrior, I’m not after your information.”
Confused, Talin forced his weakened body to turn and look Kreed in the eyes. One blue and one brown gleamed back at him. “What do you mean?”
Kreed lowered his gaze. “I’m so sorry Talin. It seems you’ve been laboring under some empty bravado. I’m not at all interested in your adventures from The Sill. Not now at least. Please, don’t be offended by this. I value your past, I really do. One day I would love to sit with you and hear all about it, though nothing will be of any use to me in a strategic sense.”
Kreed stared into Talin. Feathery giggles escaped between his broken teeth as he saw the sickening realization click on Talin’s face. Vague memories of Talin’s past life bubbled up through the ashes of his wasteland.
“You see, Decreath lives inside me now. I am his Harbinger, therefore I live inside the hearts of every Aenerian that has ever been graced by Fear. Even now, there is a little girl in a tree at Kulkicka who has climbed too high and is terrified to come down. In Galdebron, a husband dreads coming home early because he knows he’ll discover his wife courting another man. I am everywhere now. There are few secrets I am not privy to. Thousands of skipped heartbeats and jumping horrors bombard me day and night. The knowledge was overwhelming at first, a bit too much to process. But Decreath has been patient. He helps me manage it all.”
Teetering at the edge of the pit, Talin heard the phantoms calling his name. Another wave of Despair crashed over him, bringing with it fuzzy memories of the last few weeks. Had it all been for nothing? What was the point of such a desolation of his mind and soul? Why in Oberon’s bloody light did he have to kill Pineah?
Before the spark of curiosity could fade entirely, Talin opened his cracked lips. “Why?”
“You sell yourself short yet again. We’ve only just begun to see what you can do with Despair, and let’s not forget her brother, Hatred. Yes, the Hatred. I see it in you, plain as moonlight. The Hatred fuels you now, feeding and nursing you like a mother to her babe. As I told you before, you must take the Despair into you, let it become you. When you can’t take any more I will unmake you. Then, hopefully the Hatred will still be there to save you.” Kreed shivered, digging his fingernails into Talin’s arms.” It’s going to be beautiful, my boy. A part of me is very envious of you. Not for what you’ve done, but for what you are about to become.”
Talin focused on breathing, doing his best to ignore the siren calls from the pit. A taunting sickness welled up inside him. “What will I become?”
“You’ll see soon enough!” Kreed slapped Talin on the shoulder. “It’s not my place to ruin the surprise. Now, up you get. Let’s dry you off and put some proper clothes on you.”
Talin fell back, tipping down into the pit. The phantoms were ready and wailing from the shadows. They lunged and lashed at him, tearing him from one memory to the next. It had never been so bad before. They attacked him in pairs, with a third reaching in between gaps in the maelstrom. It was as if they knew he was about to be taken from them and wanted one last kiss goodbye. At first Talin didn’t bother fighting. He was familiar with the pain and had no use for the pieces they continued to steal from him. But long after they took their fill the phantoms didn’t relent. Their howling tenacity redoubled, scraping and ripping at things never meant to be touched, things they had no right to. Talin was unravelling.
A blinding beam of light shot down the hole, falling on Talin as the phantoms screamed in pain, fleeing back to the shadows. An angel garbed in white floated down into the pit, bending low and picking up what remained of Talin’s torment.
Talin’s eye opened, bringing Kreed’s tear-streaked face into view. Kreed pressed his hand into Talin’s chest and a warm, comforting sensation replaced the brittle decay infecting his body. Talin returned to his body as dank air rushed into his lungs.
“There there, warrior.” Kreed stroked the side of Talin’s face. “I thought I lost you there for a moment. You are very hard on yourself, you know that? I promise it will all be over soon.”
With Kreed’s assistance, Talin rose to his feet. He had been dressed in a smoky grey suit and matching shoes. His soul was raw and his head seemed to be trying to rip itself in half. He was steady now, steady enough to feel the familiar sensation of magic working in him, healing him. The magic stirred memories in his mind, distant and thin. He knew the magic was called Passion, but more than that he could not recall.
Two soft pops announced the arrival of Habbad and the doctor, Florien. Habbad now sported a crimson suit of a cut that matched Kreed’s, and now Talin’s. Florien was dressed in sleek eveningwear and snapping on a pair of gloves. They both kept their eyes on Talin, measuring him as if he were some dangerous animal who had just escaped his cage. Habbad hissed and kicked at Baedine, sending her scuttling to the far side of the cell.
“Quick as a flash, thank you Habbad.” Kreed gave a small bow to the Underkin, and then a nod to Florien. “And you as well, doctor. I hope my sudden appointment didn’t put you in a bind?”
Talin recognized these people. He remembered them from the workshop. He also knew that he Hated them, but he could not recall what for. The doctor stepped closer, his eyes leaking bloody tears. Talin certainly didn’t remember him having such a pronounced twitch.
“No. No not at all.” Florien’s words were crammed into one rushed breath. “I was in the next district anyway, recreation. Nothing more important than what you’re paying me for.”
“Florien,” Kreed said, tone rising with halfhearted warning. “You’ve been at the clubs again, haven’t you?”
Florien’s eyes followed something unseen to an empty corner of the cell. He winced, jerking his head away. “You know I frequent the clubs. I frequent a whole host of establishments in the city. I assure you I am a master of the body, especially my own. I am fit for duty.” Even as he said it, his hand plunged into his pocket, pulling out a small pouch and shaking a few pills out. He popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed them dry.
“Oh don’t be so defensive, Florien,” Kreed huffed. “I’m not judging, and I’m surely not questioning your abilities. But I do worry about you sometimes. Why, only just last month you had to be pulled out of the fire. I worry some of your recreations might cause you to harm yourself. It’s my job to worry, being in charge of Costas and all.”
A steadying calm replaced Florien’s jittery look of unease as his pupils shrank to pin pricks, leaving nothing but the blood-stained whites and irises. He took a deep breath before addressing Kreed.
“As I said, master of the body.” Florien strode over to Talin, assessing him as if he were a piece of art at auction. From his jacket he pulled a silver cup, which he began swirling over Talin’s forehead and neck. He put the cup to the light, shaking it. “The boy is in perfect health, physically speaking. What do you need me for then, and why didn’t you tell me you were adept with Passion? You know I’m useless with magic. You could have saved me hours of work and prevented unneeded suffering for the boy.”
“Because using Passion disgusts me, and you are paid handsomely to do a job. A job to be done without the assistance of Decreath
’s Harbinger,” Kreed added with a real warning now rising into his tone.
“What is it that I am supposed to do then?” Florien demanded, crossing his arms.
“Always with the attitude,” Kreed said under his breath, closing his eyes as though trying to remember where he put his patience. He slapped Talin on the arm. “You see. This is what I’m talking about! No one’s willing to go an inch beyond what’s required. Not even the highest paid surgeon in the city.”
Kreed shook his head as he sauntered behind Florien. He dangled his arms around Florien’s neck in a loose hug. “Your job today is to keep him-,” Kreed jerked Florien’s head to face Talin, “-alive. Keep the boy alive while he-,” he then snapped his face to Habbad. “-does his job. Can you do that, or is that asking too much?” Kreed asked in a dangerous, honeyed tone, nuzzling his chin onto Florien’s shoulder.
Florien shrugged Kreed away, his face souring with embarrassment. “That depends on what’s being done to the boy this time.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t tell you exactly what’s going to happen,” Kreed said. He walked back to Talin and gave him a gentle shake. “What he’s about to go through, well, I’ve never seen it in my lifetime. That’s why I have you here. He needs the best should the worst happen.”
Florien gave a lazy nod. “I’ll need supplies. And tools.”
Kreed nodded at a marble chest behind Florien.
Florien sifted through the chest’s drawers and doors, filling his pockets with needle packs, ampules, and salves. “This will do. Unless you pull the boy’s head off, there’s enough here to keep his heart beating at the very least.”
“Outstanding!” Kreed gushed, leaping across the room and pulling Habbad out into Talin’s view. Kreed bent low, speaking in hushed whispers into Habbad’s ear.
Saving The Dark Side Book 2: The Harbingers Page 20