2 Story (Patreon)

Hmmm, where to start. I suppose an explanation may give you a breadth of understanding you’ve yet to attain despite the sharpness with which you’ve listened. My name is Jack Donovan, and I’ve been traveling this world in search of a few pieces left over by Gaia. Our world worships her, yet I know of her darker origins. I know of the remnants she left behind.

They corrupt the creatures and earth near them. They’ve warped this world, so after facing the consequences of their existence, I aim to destroy them. My story seems simple at first glance, yet the path I followed involved many twists and turns.

Events became convoluted after I met a parasite named Deluge, though parasite may be the wrong term. He’s more of another mind who shares my body. He is my closest friend, and yes, I would normally never tell another person that I’m friends with a voice in my head.

He’s given me the tools I need for accomplishing this lofty goal, and with his influence, I have persevered through trials that would rip the limbs from my shoulders. With a group of other like minded individuals, I went on a journey across our world in search of these remnants. It is during these travels that I realized a great truth of this world.

Everything we understand, is a lie.

That sort of line would likely lead you to believe I meant all that you know of, but not quite. I say such a radical statement as a means of gaining your attention. It’s a gambit, and like all gambits, I anticipate some benefit, even if that benefit may be meager.

Now explaining the whys and hows of my killing the king, well that may require a more detailed explanation than the mere scene itself. With that in mind, I’ll start from the beginning, as all proper stories are told.

My past mentor, corrupted by priests of the church, died by my hand after a harrowing battle. These scientists were pawns of the palisade, the pinnacle authority of the church. Even with the assistance of Deluge, I couldn’t save her, yet she fueled a fire burning in my soul. Since my stay at Mareovosa, a menacing wrath had grown in my chest, and with the coals heating my fury and igniting my determination, I went through a journey towards Nelastra, the capital of the empire.

Despite the bizarre nature of my quest, there were those who followed me on the odyssey I’d decided on, though they were equally outlandish. The titanic golem I mentioned before was with me from the start, and since he once lived as a tree that pierced the clouds, I named him Aether. Even with his near impractical kindness, he was a strong, amiable ally, and I enjoyed learning about his life.

The queen of razors also walked, well, floated with us. Her methodical and motherly approach gave a fresh perspective for my young mind, and her overwhelming capacity for carnage made for a useful bargaining chip in a pinch. She left her colony to help me, but I never really understood her intentions, even now.

This leaves two others who went on the journey, Sophia and Joan. Sophia joined us with a resolve matching my own as she lost all she ever known. Joan, the love of my short life, carries a white mark streaking across the tan complexion of her face, and using that scar, she wields powers matching my own. Well, mostly.

She lacks the longevity of my own prowess, but she’s a capable member, and Sophia’s knowledge proved more than valuable in countless instances. Even with these allies, we spoke little as no member owned social skills worth noting.

The first few days passed with the slow drawl of a lazy sunday. Like cats lounging in the sun, we walked without any real urgency. This ended after we paced into the first village we came across, Dresdel.

I say we, but only Joan, Sophia, and I entered into the village since Aether and Razor would attract far more attention than necessary. The rare and costly amor I wore,hydra skin, garnered more than a few strange glances by itself, and by the time we reached into the town’s central pub, many of the townsfolk talked of a passing assassin.

However, since I was otherwise known as The Darkened One, being hailed as an assassin proved useful in more ways than one. Using this disguise, we each attempted collecting information from those who stayed at the inn.

Joan, with her white hair and scar like lightning down her neck and left side, gained attention as a passing royal gemchainer. Gemchaining equated to the highest form of combat on the continent of Alta, and since Joan had been a chainer before, she could play the part without making any mistakes.

On the other hand, I struggled with my camouflage. The perfect example presents itself when I spoke with the head craftsmen of the village.

I walked across the cobblestone alleyways leading to the stone arch over his doorway. Ivy grew on the left side while a balcony adorned the right, each with their own set of pottery embellishing the windows present on both sides. With the sun overhead, a sheen of yellow glossed over the entire scene, and I couldn’t help but wish for a similar home of my own one day.

After giving the front door a few light taps, a man with a gray beard and kind eyes walked out the entrance. He glanced up at me with a knowing glance before he said with a curt refusal, “I ain’t gonna give you nothin tah murder anybody with.”

As he slams the door, I catch the edge of the frame before I lean until our eyes meet. The light gray of my skin shocked him more than just a little, yet after he heard my voice, a piece of him gentled.

“Rather than tools for murder, I aim for tools more suited to my talents. Would you happen to own a violin or harp, preferably one with durable strings?”

After he looked me over once more, he bursted into laughter before he said with his husky voice, “I half expected yah to kill me when yah stopped the door from closin. How about a glass of tea as an apology?”

With a genuine grin tracing my lips, I said, “I’ll have to accept, if only for the charming company.”

“There’s a seat over there. Make yourself comfortable.”

I nodded before I walked past innumerable tools and trinkets lining a desk at the side of his room. Since I weighed well over the limit of the wooden chair he offered, I sat upon the stone edging of his fireplace, content with the pleasant heat of fire warming my back. After he set a kettle of water over the iron roofing of his fireplace, the man said,

“My name’s Alfred. What’s your’s?”

Taking a risk, I said my real name, “Jack Donovan. I’m a roaming musician who’s had his instrument stolen while on my way to Nelastra.”

He nodded before he said, “Aye, the roads ain’t safe anymore. I heard that even Mareovosa had been overrun. It’s a damn shame.”

Mareovosa had been the center of education for the empire before the palisade purged it due to my presence there. The situation ended in the death of many students before I destroyed the abominations the palisade had created.

With these memories flashing in my mind, I winced before I said, “It is. Any news about what happened there?”

Alfred shrugged before sitting on his rocking chair, moving smoother than a cat’s landing. After lighting a pipe of tobacco, he said, “Not much. The only news we heard was about a so called demon that there callin The Darkened One. Even the oracle made a prediction, or so they say.”

I said, “Ah,” before I added, “When I camped with a merchant on my way here, he told me that the church is setting a crusade against that monster.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow before he said, “A crusade? We haven’t had one of those in over three hundred years. Them’s was dark times accordin to history. Even the plagues weren’t as bad as that.”

I nodded my head in agreeance before he opened a pot on the edge of stool beside him. He grabbed a generous portion of brown leaves from the basin before he placed them into the kettle. After stirring the brew with a wooden spoon, he placed the kettle’s cap over the pot and sighs. Placing the spoon on the stool, he said,

“You look pretty young lad. It’s hard tah see someone like you talkin about the grimmer parts of the empire. I half expected yah tah mention how the slave trades been doin poorly here recently.”

I placed a hand on my chin before I leaned onto my knees and said, “Poorly?”

He grimaced before he said, “There’s been way more golems than normal in the market. They used tah be right rare, but now there nearly as cheap as a house. There good for a 100 years of hard labor usually, so they drive the price of slaves way down.”

“Strange. Slaves are usually in demand right before summer. I wonder what’s flooding the market?”

He leaned towards me before he said, “You didn’t hear this from me, but I heard the arcanum is causin it.”

I pursed my lips before I said, “Who are they?”

The old man grins before he says, “Either you’re a good liar or you really are a roamin musician, mister Donovan. The arcanum are a...well a underground society of sorts. They control a large part of the black market for all things illegal. You’d be wise to stay away from them.”

I nodded before the side of my neck flexed off instinct. You see, I’d dealt with the arcanum before, though I didn’t know it at the time. They kidnapped students and indoctrinated them before forcing them into the bodies of golems. It’s a dark and forbidden form of soul forging, but the results are inarguable.

Since a more developed mind produces a more powerful golem, human souls match high tier monster’s in quality. A human spirit creates an unbreakable seal with near infinite energy to draw from, but doing so makes slavery look like charity by comparison. The indoctrination process inflicts a cumbersome amount of pain on the individual, and being trapped in a cold, unfeeling body for eternity sends chills down the spine of even hardened veterans.

The arcanum caused a fair amount of turmoil in my life, and destroying them would bring me a deep sense of satisfaction. Gathering the remnants of Gaia takes priority however, so I reply after a moment of thought,

“I’ll keep away from them. They sound shady at best and evil at worst. Thank you for enlightening me as to who they are.”

He shaked his head before he said, “You already know who they are. I can tell.”

My stomach sunk for a moment before he raised a palm towards me while saying, “Now, now. I don’t mean no trouble by sayin that. I just wanted you to know you ain’t that good at hidin your involvement.”

“Was it that obvious?”

With a spark of life in his eyes, he grinned in response while saying, “An old man has his ways of knowin. What matters is what you intend to do to them.”

The genial atmosphere changes in an instant as I gaze towards the fire behind me. My eyes close to slits while my large hands clasp into fists harder than stone. With a confident and knowing voice, I say,

“I aim to end them.”

The old man freezed in place before the kettle on the iron squealed, interrupting his petrification. Alfred jumped in his seat before he scrambled for two clay cups and struggled despite the ease of the actions before. After he poured two glasses of the steaming liquid, he sat in his chair, saturating in silence.

With a sincere guilt, I said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shared that. It is not your burden to bear.”

Alfred shook his head, ruffling his long gray beard. He sighed before he said, “It ain’t your fault son. I done pried where I shouldn’t have. I just never expected you to be so fierce. It’s like you got two faces.”

I fought off a grin before I said, “Hah, that may be true.”

I downed the tea in an instant I turn towards him and said, “I’d love to sit here and chat more, but I wouldn’t want to frighten you any further.”

He stood before he said, “You came for an instrument, right? I got me some in the back if you wouldn’t mind waitin while I get em. I’ll even give yah a discount on account of my rudeness. What do yah say?”

Even though I already revealed more than I intended, Alfred desired a jovial departure, so I gave in and said, “Alright, I’ll see what you have.”

A smile, large and inviting, bloomed on his face before he walked towards the back of his store. Few things match the delight of the elderly, so I waited with a patient surveillance of my surroundings. My eyes saw more than they expected.

The tools dawning the walls carried a grand level of detail, but tiny pieces on each of the tools carried hooks or pointed edges that seemed unremarkable at first glance. After inspecting closer, I noticed how each of the tools would prove deadly if used with these sharpened edges in mind.

He had hammers with claws honed to a razor’s edge. Monocles with piano wire as the base of the string that drapes across the shoulder. He even owned a pair of gloves with a slit-like pouch underneath the palm. A thin, handleless dagger could fit in there without any struggle.

Just as I came to this realization, my perceptive ears heard the creaking of wood behind me. As I turned, a seven inch dagger plunged into my side before Alfred’s face came into view. Instead of the affable smile of before, a savage grimace lines his face, red with several veins bulging from his thin neck.

This old man had been a producer of assassin's tools for the arcanum. The entire time I had believed his facade while clawing for information about anything of value. Instead, he gleaned the information he needed from me while giving the impression of a worried old man.

The paralyzation of my discovery ended as agony ebbing from my side overwhelmed the feeling of discovery. My insides ruptured before leaking blood swelled inside my throat and rushed out my mouth. The man removed the dagger before he lifted his left arm upwards while tossing the dagger with his right. The moment he began pulling his left hand downwards, he caught the dagger the hand.

The fluid motion resulted in him digging the blade into the side of my neck before a second had passed. He anticipated my death from such a deft assassination, but he failed to understand the gravity of his situation.

The short saber pierced straight through the carotid artery of me neck, and the suffering almost blinded me. Almost. I jerked a hand outwards while wrapping my fingers around his neck, careful not to break him before I learned anything.

He no longer disguised his surprise before the blood leaking from my mouth crawled back up my chin and into my maw. The wound on my side already regenerated, and as I pulled the dagger from my neck, I laughed with a callous cruelty.

I pulled him close as I said, “Who do you believe I am?”

His face contorted in confusion as squinted his eyes towards me for a moment before they widen with awareness. The merciless glance of before shatters as all his composure crumbles. Color drains from his face before he whispered,

“Y-you are...The Darkened One?”

Lifting an arm beside his face, a spike grew from the center of my palm, soaked with blood. My eyes opened wide as I said,

“Apt, aren’t you?”

I pressed the spike into the side of his cheek before the dagger stabbed through his lips. With the strength of one finger, I pressed the bottom of his jaw closed, preventing any screams.

After removing the spike, I grinned with a near gleeful radiance before I said, “You will tell me what you know before you die. It is in your hands to decide how excruciating your death may be.”

Before I allow him to reply, worms covered in human skin crawled out of my face as I said, “I promise you, it will be altogether unique.”

The nastier details I’d rather skip, but by the time he died, I learned quite a few important details from him. The horror may seem unnecessary, but understand a simple fact. He was ready for what a normal man could do. I could tear off his fingernails and he wouldn’t say a word, yet by using Deluge’s skills, I cut the interrogation to only a few seconds instead of a few hours.

Without any pragmatic means of disposing the body, Deluge took over our conscious before he ingested the man’s corpse. He also absorbed the man’s soul into consolidation, the pool of souls he collects. I’ll elaborate later, but for now, I’ll say that becoming a part of consolidation is neither painful nor awful. Think of it as a sort of union of thoughts.

Regardless, I left Alfred’s house after taking a violin and leaving a suitable sum for its purchase. He may have had a family, and they may need the gold for the rough times to come. I give no mercy for those who assault me, but I wouldn’t wish starvation for his family as well.

With this in mind, I traveled back towards the inn where I spoke with a few of the other patrons. After drinking more than a few mugs of ale myself, I ended up playing a few songs for the people there. By the time Sophia and Joan arrive from their observation of the city, I was playing with two arms over my shoulders as several drunkards laughed and shouted beside me.

The entire romp permeated a heavy, almost suffocating nostalgia through my chest. I’ve been a part of many parties in my past, and that ended with half a village slaughtered. Still, fragments from those times remained good memories.

These thoughts raced through my mind as Joan and Sophia glanced from across the room. Being a part of the group, I noticed just how out of place they were. Joan’s short, white hair juts from the edge of her leather hood while the brown tunic she wears hangs over her curves, accentuating her seductive figure.

She’s lithe and athletic compared with most women, but that same hardness gave her an independence I found compelling. The sight always energized me and reminded me why I love her. She never needed me. Instead, she chose to share our lives, even though I’ve exiled her from her from her previous life.

On the other hand, Sophia lacked a provocative appearance, but her white, gangly frame and short height gave the undoubtable impression of a noble. That and her callus free hands implied a life free from working on a field, unlike everyone else present.

Sophia’s never swung a hoe or milked a cow, but the sharpness of her glance produces a profound impact. Her hands moved with the careful consideration of a surgeon while her steps were short and steady. Her eyes shifted around the room without her head moving, so she picked up details without others noticing her scrutiny.

Both stuck out like missing teeth in a man’s smile, though they both appeared far more pleasing to the eye. Regardless, the palpable anger radiating off them shocked me from my feigned stupor before I slid towards them. As I pace over the well polished mahogany floorboards, Joan propped her weight onto her hip while Sophia crossed her arms. They seemed more than peaved.

Without faltering, I grinned as I approached and said, “Care to chat young ladies? It’s rare to see such fire in the youthful, and-” I leaned towards joan before I stroke the edge of her hair, “It’s even rarer to see such grace.”

She swats my hand away, but the gesture’s slow and playful instead of annoyed. Sophia on the other hand, she snaps her words like a whip across bare skin,

“You told us to be inconspicuous. Tell me, how is this is this inconspicuous?”

I leaned close before I pulled them towards me and whispered, “Keep your expressions normal. A man attempted killing me earlier. The situation devolved, so we’d best regroup outside the village and forming some sort of plan. I have a few ideas of my own.”

They turned towards me before Sophia murmured, “Did you have to kill him?”

I frowned towards her, and with a surprising hardness, I said, “He was seasoned killer. If not for my restorative powers, I would be dead twice over.”

She lowered her glance towards the ground before she said, “Alright then. I guess...I guess you had to.”

Joan placed her hand onto Sophia’s shoulder while saying, “Have some faith in him. I’m certain he had no other choice.”

Joan turned towards me before saying, “Right?”

I nodded before I said, “I won’t let those that try killing me live. Deluge rather enjoys the carnage. I find it distasteful, though often necessary.”

Joan rubbed the side of her head as she said, “Ah...I doubt I could kill someone, even if I needed to.”

I say, “It’s easier than you imagine. When you face the guilt in the aftermath, that trial is where the difficulty lies. I pray neither of you will ever experience that sinking, hollow feeling.”

Their eyes sombered before I interrupted the mood by saying, “For now, let’s regroup with Aether and Razor. Best not to dwell on subjects like these.”

We ended up leaving the town with a few heartfelt goodbyes from the other inn goers. Music and drink brings people together, and since my musical skills received recognition even at Mareovosa, I offered one of those elements at all times.

Whenever the townsfolk discovered the death of Alfred, I would fall under suspicion as I came to town rather recently. Understanding this and the implications of the fact, we hurried towards our base.

The sun set as we reached the encampment several miles from town. Our campfire casted the surrounding forest in a shifting blanket of light, and the shadows in the distance contorted into strange amalgamations. Even the simplest of nature’s creations became eerie abominations when put in the proper light, yet Aether fought this with his mere existence.

A blue glow radiated off the runes tracing across the polished, black surface of his body. Standing at over 8 feet in height, he made my hulking 6’8 frame appear scrawny by comparison. His hands, large and solid as they were, could carve immaculate imagery into stone, and his voice emanated calm.

Before Deluge had freed him, he sat imprisoned for several thousand years. Even with his brutal strength and nigh invincible body, he touched those around him with a peculiar gentleness unique to him alone. He lived in a world of glass, and his movements respected the fragility of everything around him. To represent him in a single word, he was kind.

His size and shine left our encampment safe at all hours, and as we discussed our investigation around the fire, he listened while glancing at the stars overhead. Joan discovered a prostitution ring in the city since one of their recruiters confronted her. They operated in conjunction with the arcanum, so I figured halting the activity may weaken their organization. It gave me a goal for the night.

This discovery inflamed my curiosity, but just before I set out, Sophia mentioned another interesting fact. She spoke with the town’s apothecary, and after several hours of discussing alchemical procedures, she discovered one of the town’s myths.

Myths often offer a heaping of gibberish with a grain of truth upon the top, so we listened to her as she said,

“There’s a story about how a beast to the north has been invading towns. They made it sound like a flying reptile, but everyone believed the creature was a noble beast who subjugated the surrounding villages for food.”

Joan replied, “Like a dragon?”

I raised an eyebrow as I said, “A dragon?”

They glanced towards me with disbelief plastered on their faces. As I remember the events, my ignorance of all the stories and tales told to children explained much of my life up till then. My parents taught me at my home rather than letting a priest do the same in a church. As a result, my education splintered from what most people were taught.

I learned of song and music instead of religion and history. My mother’s voice and my father’s words carried all the lessons I would need in life, though my instruction lacked a few key points of development. This instance highlighted that inexperience while emphasizing the noble upbringing of both my companions. That difference reared its ugly head more and more as our journey continued, but more of that will come later.

Fortunately, Aether and Razor understood little of human folklore as well, so in her echoing, almost tangible voice, Razor said,

“I would like to know as well, if you wouldn’t mind telling me.”

Joan and Sophia glanced around before they giggled with one another as if remembering who they traveled with. In the steady cool glow of Aether’s blue light, Joan and Sophia explained what they understood of dragons, but I won’t bore you with the details. You’ve likely read a story or two of the sort, so their tales will tell you nothing new.

However, for the three of us who had never heard so much as a word about dragons and the like, we soaked in the words like a dry sponge submerging in water. We asked many questions, and by the time the lesson ended, Joan’s eyes slid open and shut with exhaustion.

Noticing this, I clapped my hands while saying, “We should let Joan rest. Besides, Deluge would enjoy all of your company.”

A groan escaped Sophia’s lips while Joan said, “I don’t understand how you all go without sleeping.”

Razor replied, “Our biology differs from yours heavily, but I do sleep, though I sleep less since I left my colony. Jack and Sophia never sleep, unless they’ve been gravely wounded.”

Since they’ve seen the those grave injuries in person, Joan and Sophia cringe at the comment before I said to Joan, “I sleep as often as you do. Deluge takes over my conscious whenever I rest. I couldn’t stay awake for so long as Sophia does.”

Sophia smiled at the border of light between the blue of Aether and orange light of the campfire. She begans talking about the alchemical processes with Aether as they often kept each other company during nights. Her childlike enthusiasm infected Aether before they chat by the fire about our travels so far with Razor. I longed to join them, but other tasks took priority.

On the outskirts of our encampment, we placed a pile of gleaming Alexandrite in circle. These crystals held many of the souls from the creatures we’ve killed for food along the way here, and they radiated a pleasant warmth without the risks involved with fire. Deluge allowed this since these specific gems held the souls forever, unlike other gems like topaz or amethyst.

The alexandrite warded off other creatures as well, though Aether’s presence acted as our best deterrent. These factors culminated till Joan sleeps without stirring, under most circumstances at least. She still lived out her past horrors in her nightmares, but Joan is strong. Her determination pushed through many obstacles up till that point, and no doubt that iron plated will of hers would take her even further.

Without needing to, I carry her over towards her bed in my arms before I set her down on her pallet, glancing over the sharpness of her cheekbones and the way her hair takes the tone of whatever light she’s in. The scar running down her left side, more like a bolt of lightning than an old wound, carved webs of white down her figure. As I set her down, her head turned to the side of her dirty pillow. She had already fallen asleep in my arms.

She grew as a noble before circumstance stole everything she’d ever known away from her. I caused those circumstances, and a part of me regrets each day of peace I stole from her. Still, seeing her sleep so soundly eases that dull ache in my chest, and as my own exhaustion weighed down on me, I spoke with Deluge,

“I take it you’ll obliterate the prostitution ring while I sleep?”

In his haunting and sinister voice, Deluge grumbles, “Hah, hah, hah. Of course.”

I shake my head before an irrepressible grin grows on my lips. The smile transforms as my gums show under and over my teeth, and the expression becomes crooked. A chuckle escapes my lips before I say,

“I have something else in mind.”

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