Soul's Requiem: B1 - 22. A Jester's Promise (Patreon)

Note:  So sorry I haven't been dropping these down!  I think about it and then when I get home to start writing it's out my brain!  Please, if you enjoy the series and I forget to release a chapter on Wednesday, shout me out on Discord or Patreon!

1:  Clover Emberfield

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The crack of thunder, crying heavens, and lingering graveyard of Transevil pulled Clover’s gaze as the muddy water of the lake flooded into the river; she hardly noticed the gushing steam until the storm and chill settled in.

As if an insect running across her skin, Clover could feel the unsettling vibe of the clown still lingering, unseen in the veil of heavy rain; his neon blue eyes and masquerade mask smiling at her from places just beyond sight.

Four minutes passed, the only signs of movement being the heavens and river.  A somber gloom weighed on her mind while searching for exactly what the shapeshifter made her feel.  It wasn’t fear, but a heavy degree of caution that made her hesitate, which she didn’t like.

Occasionally, a bolt of lightning would arc out of the sky to strike Isngneal’s motionless corpse; purple static tracing the devastated hole his final attack had left, and after the SPU Class-2 Spirit Users pulled up in an assortment of military vehicles above, Clover came to terms with what she’d experienced.

He’s unnatural—if he’s a male at all…

She recalled the scents of the underground base incident; the shapeshifter had played with the employees and A.I., meticulously setting up each horrific isolated incident to illustrate its artistic love.  It was as if the creature wanted to enjoy some grand show only he saw, and everything around him was on his stage.  Judging off his parting words, he had some overarching plan in mind, and she was supposed to take the lead role now that Isngneal bored him.

The most irritating part is that I can’t track him … He clearly loves to keep Castro’s form, even if he’s not a Rassi.  In fact, he could have taken on Castro’s identity from the beginning or been the clown from the start; how could anyone tell otherwise?

If he’s a part of the Gallant Cadre Rassi Faction, as everyone seems to believe, why is he here?  A Rassi group that centers on medieval stereotypes … He’s a jester, but occasionally the fool is really the hidden puppet master.

Her hunger had been temporarily overshadowed by Castro, and looking at the energy around her, waiting to be harvested, she had a bitter taste in her mouth that should have been delight on her tongue.

I know I need to take their Desire Force … Yet, I can’t bring myself to enjoy it since I wasn’t the one to kill them.  It’s like Castro could care less about them and left them as some kind of welcoming gift to his stage…

A loudspeaker from one of the military vehicles called down to her, drawing her gaze to the dam.  “Clover!”  Erin yelled.  “Are you safe?”

Figuring he couldn’t see her past the haze, she sighed and dismissed the Viper Blade; walking past Isngneal’s head, she sourly absorbed the force into her body, zig-zagging between the Transevil bodies littering the dam before making it to the top again.

Erin continued to call out her name and try contacting her earrings, but she rejected them, brooding on the information she’d gathered.  Isngneal filled her with power, which sharply reduced the biting hole in her belly, but it didn’t abate the frustration of having a clean victory against the lightning wolf.

Eventually, the Earth Spirit User’s vision was directed to her by the other Spirit Users, pointing out the vortex of color she produced as she gathered the Desire Force infused items.

He met her on the rise, panting with his slick orange jacket showing the SPU symbol on the back reflecting from the bright humvee lights.  “Clover!  I—I can’t even … Satellites showed hundreds of Transevil—you killed him in an instant; we were sure it was a bug, but … Is Isngneal…”

“Dead,” she hollowly stated, moving past him to finish cleaning up the materials before the SPU could snag any more; Clover needed everything she could get against Castro, which she angrily figured was also part of his plan.  “Is that all of them?”

Erin cleared his throat, running after her; it took a second for him to respond as he gauged her embittered mood.  “Hmm … So far as we are aware.  Every sign of the Transevil in the area vanished from our satellites, meaning only Class-0 should be left, and we’re tracking down any stragglers.  Did something happen?”  he tentatively asked.  “You don’t seem happy about winning.”

Clover’s jaw locked, and she took a deep breath.  “Did you sense any other powerful creatures besides Isngneal?”

“No?”  Erin asked, vision drifting to squint at the blackened crater and damage their battle had caused to the area.  “Was there another Transevil—a Class-3?”

Her serpent irises flicked to the handsome young man; nervous vibes were leaking off him.  She’d done what he believed to be impossible, or at least he thought it was done by her.  Then again, for all she knew, he could be Castro in disguise.

In any case, it was unlikely Melissa or Lily were the hidden snake in her circle, but given how invisible and thorough the jester’s disgusting abilities were, she couldn’t take a body double off the table, including clones or copies of himself, given what she’d seen how Transevil multiply.

“If there’s nothing else you need, I’m going to go.”

Clover dismissed herself, leaving the man in a state of confusion to slow down and look after her as she weaved through the other Spirit Users; the men and women saluted her as if she were a direct superior, hope and respect in their bright eyes—it only served to make the taste in her mouth all the more tart.

Once a reasonable distance away from the bustling groups, Clover contacted Laurence; his emotionless tone and somewhat sleep-deprived face actually helped ease her restlessness a tad.

“I was wondering when you’d make contact … What’s the issue?”

“Heh-he,” a joyless smirk curled the corner of her full lips as she glared at the lush grasslands outside of Hollow Vale’s walls.  “You know, in the short time I’ve known you, I’ve grown to appreciate that attitude of yours.”

“Likewise,” he said, dull eyes drifting to various monitors around him while puffing on his cigar and waiting for her response.

“I … want a straight answer.”

His focus returned to her, leaning back a bit in his chair.  “I’m listening.”

“Did Wilfred kill Castro?”

Laurence’s teeth tightened around the butt of his claro, and after a moment, a lump dropped down his throat.  Drawing in one more breath, he puffed out the smoke, took the cigar out of his mouth, and leaned forward.  “So far as I am aware … Why are you questioning that?”

Naturally, from what she’d learned about the Commander, he’d taken her inquiry as a sign that shade was thrown on the event; it wasn’t something someone in his position wanted to hear.

“Was Castro a tall, lanky jester-like man that wore a masquerade mask and had neon blue eyes?”

A quake ran down the military man’s frame as he sat back again, taking a few draws of his vice before blowing it out in a long sigh.  Pressing a few buttons, Clover’s vision narrowed upon seeing the same figure.

Castro danced across a stage in what appeared to be Hollow Veil’s shopping district; balloons fell around the panicking men, women, and children as they ran to the edges, only to realize they were trapped—explosions of sickly-colored gas bathing the street.

It was strategic, starting at the exits and drawing the crowds closer and closer to the jester as he vanished in smoke to take petrified women by the hands; at his touch, they ceased their cries, beginning a waltz with the clown against their will, helpless tears falling down their cheeks yet overjoyed smiles on their lips.

“Is this the creature you saw?”

Clover’s fingernails pulled in against her palm as she watched the jester play with his victims, and puppet-like creatures burst out of the sewers to flood the streets.

“Yes.”

“Mmh … Are you telling me Castro appeared to you when fighting Isngneal?”

“He did.”

“I see…”  Laurence’s eye’s closed, fingers sliding through his slightly greasy hair.  “Hmm … You’re sure?”

Her vision drifted to the city from her slightly elevated position, watching smoke pool out of chimneys and see the dull violet reflection of the tinted morning sun strike the taller buildings.  Tyler would likely be looking out of his office window at this moment.

“Not exactly … It was the shapeshifter, and he took the form of Castro.”

“The shapeshifter,” Laurence repeated, rubbing the scruff on his neck.  “You aren’t sure about anything anymore, I assume … I don’t blame you.  We’re dealing with a threat that could be Castro … It could be something else entirely.”

He dragged on his cigar a few more times in silence as Clover slowly made her way back to Hollow Veil through the storm, allowing the liquid to wash over her.

“There were three things that exited the Great Void—you, some Spirit User we assume uses munitions, and another that’s unidentified—we lost contact with the team I sent to investigate the last.”

“Munitions?”  Clover whispered, vision darting to the decaying city barely visible through the easing downpour.  “I heard gunfire on my way here—not the laser-type technology I saw your men using on the way here.”

The Commander looked to another screen, chair squeaking a tad as he swiveled.  “We’ve been able to catch a small photo of him from surveillance footage we stationed around Sunny City, but it wasn’t that clear.  As it stands, he’s possibly an irregular Spirit User like yourself.”

She looked up at a bolt of lightning that streaked across the heavens, vision slowly lowering to the hazy, ruined cityscape.  “It’s possible the third person to exit was this shapeshifter, but I'm not so sure.”

“Oh … Care to elaborate?”

Clover watched the smoke leave his mouth; the cigar was nearly half an inch from his fingers at this point.  “He manipulated Isngneal, and it was when he bored of the wolf and became interested in me that he killed the Transevil.”

“Interest…”  A short yawn left the man’s throat, eyes watering a little as he blinked and took a deep breath.  “Hmm … So, in the end, he was the one that killed Isngneal, and not you, Clover?”

“Yes,” she grunted, left finger twitching with irritation.  “I was nearly finished with it—just another several seconds, and I would have had my SF attacks ready to deliver the final blow, but he showed up and killed him … I suspect it was some kind of present to me.”

“Mmgmm … It’s in line with Castro’s mannerisms.”

Laurence leaned forward, extinguishing his cigar stub before opening a side compartment and extracting another one to light; his demeanor gave the impression he was in total control, yet Clover figured it was the nicotine.

“You might be right … Then again, it could be his affinity to take on what he replicates,” he breathed out a constrained sigh, head tilting to give another display a sidelong look.  “You haven’t asked if Lily is cleared of suspicion since we’ve discovered the shapeshifter was near Hollow Veil,” he noted.

“I haven’t … I don’t want to believe it, but you could say I’m more cautious than before … I don’t know if it is the shapeshifter or someone else; however, I do know someone is trying to use me to further their own ends—someone I’ll misread.”

The Commander’s lips pulled in, tapping a fingernail against the wood on his desk.  “That you’re telling me this could be interpreted in quite a few directions … I won’t speculate on that, though; I’m more concerned about this shapeshifter.  Can you tell if it is a Rassi?”

“Why not a Transevil?”  Clover pointedly asked, spotting the entrance to the town she’d used and making her way to it on the wet road; water flowed in a thin layer off the side of the crumbling asphalt.  “I was told Transevil can’t speak, yet Isngneal was intelligent enough to speak our language and strategize, to an extent.”

“Ominous … In the past fifteen years of attacks, this is the first that I’m aware of such an advanced Transevil.”

“Is it linked to his Class?”

Laurence shook his head.  “In the Badlands, near the sealed Black Abyss, there are Class-5 Transevil Golems, and Shane dealt with many higher-class Transevil … No, this is new, and we need to discover how it gained that level of sentience.  Do you have any clues?”

It was Clover’s turn to shake her head.  “No.  All I know is that Isngneal somehow had some forewarning that people were coming through the Great Void and made his way toward me.”

“The shapeshifter?”

“That’s my guess, but I can’t be sure … I’ll ask again … Do you believe Ivan and Wilfred killed Castro, or do you think he simply pretended to be dead for them to leave, taking on the form of someone else?”

The man drew in his lower lip, peeling off the dead skin from the dry membrane.  “Hmm … I won’t say it’s impossible … He was Class-5 material, for sure, and we still don’t know his objective for making such a long trip to the southwest—Castro would have needed to get past The Great Inferno Tribe, and he would be destroyed by their heavy hitters.”

He puffed out a long breath.  “It’s the mystery around why he would risk so much to come to such a backwater area of humanity.  All of the Gallant Cadre are bound to their King; he must be here on some errand, but what is that?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Clover whispered, scanning the partially ruined area of southeastern Hollow Veil; a guard tower was operated at the walls now, peering into the storm, ready to report danger.  “I can tell you he didn’t feel too far off from my skill level, and currently, you say I’m Class-3?”

“In the general pool, yes.”

“Alright, maybe Wilfred weakened him, and he’s been slowly rebuilding his strength.”

Laurence straightened in his high back chair.  “That would be at least some decent news compared to every report I’ve gotten over the past few days … I suppose we can only hope you’ll continue to grow or Ivan makes it here in time.

“In any case, I’ll continue to keep an eye on Lily; the scientists are still trying to isolate whatever is in her blood.  I assume you’ve been working your own angle with this underground group?”

“I’m planning on getting their opinion,” Clover sighed, thinking about the enigmatic masked woman.  “How long will Melissa be resting?”

“Unfortunately, at least eight hours, considering the level of her Spirit Force and how much she pushed herself to heal those she could in Hollow Veil on her return.  She’s resting in one of our Spirit User houses.”

“Heh, I’m happy to hear it,” she smirked.  “It’s surprising she hasn’t ruined herself already.”

“She does have a big heart,” Laurence commented, drawing in smoke before exhaling it in a cloud.  “There are many more things we haven’t touched on, but I’ll leave that for another time; I need to make a report on the possibility of Castro making his return.”

“Good luck.”

Her connection dropped, and she stared between the options of who could be her next contact.  After a minute’s debate, Tamara’s masked face appeared, cloak billowing in the winds, yet the rain didn’t seem to touch her.  “Clover, couldn’t wait to hear my voice again?”

“Hardly.”

“He-he, I’m sure—oh, I heard the good news; congratulations are in order!  I assume you gathered the goodies?”

Clover let the question hang for a moment.  Out of everyone I know, she’s the most likely to be an imposter, but why would Castro disguise himself as her … I don’t know anything about her, and maybe that’s the point … Tyler also gave her the location on the underground base.  Wow, I’m becoming paranoid…

“I did … I believe Castro isn’t dead.”

The woman’s head tilted to the side, a low rumble in her throat.  “Interesting … If so, we can certainly use him to make a fantastic weapon for you … How weak is he after Wilfred’s battle with the clown?”

She instantly accepted it and deduced he wasn’t at full strength.  Tamara isn’t frightened of Castro, but I suppose this is a big fish in a small pond if she’s worked with Shane.

“Significantly, but I believe I’ll need my Soul Weapon to bridge the gap at this point—if it’s as useful as you make it out to be.”

“Quite useful,” she giggled.  “Isngneal should provide you with enough materials for Yumi to come up with something that can work for you.  Are you heading there now?”

“No, I have another errand to run before that.”

“I see…”  Her cadence darkened a tad.  “Tyler, I assume … Hmm.  Enjoy yourself, and let me know when you’re ready to do business.”

She ended the call.

Clover’s full lips drew into a line, tasting the liquid sliding down her head.  I’m supposed to be the snake-like girl, yet I feel as if I’m surrounded by a pit of vipers.

She used her energy to generate platforms to arrive at the flat roof’s edge, following her map to the area where she’d left the Banking CEOs folder.  Making it to the protected H/VAC unit she’d slid the file under, she called upon her umbrella and used her water repellent overcoat to brush off her hands, forcing the liquid to the ground.

Reaching inside, she extracted the folder and opened it up; her serpent-like eyes latched onto a new page.  Clover’s gut tightened, goosebumps sliding up her forearm; she didn’t have to guess who the letter was from—written in light blue and in flowing cursive—he’d signed it himself.

The pleasure is mine, my sweet!

If you will be so kind as to allow me to introduce myself, my name is Castro, and I am a humble jester who is always on Hunt for the best of all Causatum in this cruel, ephemeral world rife with chaos.

Ho-ho!  I fancy you to be quite astonished to find such a memorandum tucked inside your hidden dossier; hmm-hmm, no need to fret, I am quite competent at keeping little secrets!

Oh, my sweet dove, but you must understand, I could not constrain myself—nay, I was compelled—from the moment I witnessed the strength and majesty flickering to life as you spun in a dazzling dance before my obeisant eyes!

Radiant yet self-effacing, gorgeous yet unsightly, tranquil yet calamitous … I have deliberated long and hard on how to present these irrepressible emotions … Now, I know I am destined to craft and deliver you the most humble of gifts a mere jester can offer!

Please, my love, refrain not from my affections, I beg of thee!  This is all this lonesome jester can offer as a token of my adoration for you and your strength that has inspired me to seek after my stolen heart!

Alas, you must be patient, my sweet!  Oh, how it pains me to keep such joy from you, yet I must prepare this tribute!  My chest fractures with anticipation for our glorious event!

I sincerely hope … that you like it.

- Yours reverentially, Castro -

A quake ran down Clover’s bones as she finished reading the letter.  He’s been watching me … For how long?

Turning, she peered past the veil of rain, scanning for anything out of the ordinary; not a thing caught her notice, but she was sure he was still out there.  Wonderful … I have a stalker.

Her focus returned to the jagged-fanged, smiling clown face imprinted into the letter, showing two gashes over its left black eye; whatever this gift was, lives would be lost, she was sure, and his twisted mind only saw it as a passionate waltz on a burning stage.

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