From the Ashes: Sacrificial Lamb (ch. 1) (Patreon)

For those that know and those that don't -- this story is a temporary one until I can build up enough of a backlog for another story that won a poll over on my Patreon. It should only take a couple of weeks before Gacha God is released to the public, and what happens to this story more or less becomes a question. If it does better than I'm expecting, I can see about trying to fit it into my schedule with semi-regular updates. Or once Gacha God is released, I'll just post the chapters on the patreon to the public and leave the story until the next time I finish one, where it would then go up on a poll to determine my next work.

All the same, I do hope you all enjoy.

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“Yeah. No. Fuck you, I’m out,” I summarized my thoughts rather adequately if I did say so myself, turning on my heel to start walking away from the scene. I was flanked by old walls that were covered in mildew that had, in turn, absorbed centuries of questionable fluids. Puke. Piss. Blood. A lot of blood. I’m betting a whole lot of people got murdered in the alley I was in and I was determined not to be one of them.

I would have absolutely walked away if it wasn’t for the hand that snatched the back of my shirt, nearly tearing it as I was dragged back by a strong hand. “Quit being a ninny, Azoth. Just take the dagger. You won’t even have to use it,” I heard a woman’s voice insist, a long dagger pressed into my hand as I turned around to face someone I thought of as a friend. If you could call someone a friend when they were shoehorning you into mortal danger for their benefit. “You just have to stand there, look menacing, and call out if you see anyone.”

The look I gave Kallian Tabris, an age-old friend that I’ve known since before I was able to form conscious thoughts, conveyed exactly what I thought of that. “No. If that were true, then I wouldn’t need a knife at all. And look at me. I’m as ferocious as a kitten. A wet one. Who in the Maker’s name am I going to intimidate?” Self-awareness was one of my only virtues. I was 5’3, not particularly good-looking, and about as likely to injure myself as I was someone else whenever I got into a scrape.

Self-awareness was the reason why I was alive today. Just like I understood that Kallian Tabris embodied all of the traits I didn’t have -- she was pretty, for one. Dark red hair that she inherited from her mum, high cheekbones, large green eyes, and a narrow jawline with a stubborn chin. Despite the Arl of Denerim’s laws on elves only being able to carry a knife shorter than their palm, she openly wore a pair of long dirks that I knew she knew how to use. She was taller than me, stronger than me, and the only thing I had over her was I was smarter and possessed something resembling self-preservation instincts.

“Yeah, quit being a ninny,” Shianni, Kallian’s cousin, echoed before slugging me in the shoulder. “It’ll be easy. We just got to go in, shake the guy down, and we’ll be richer than a couple of shems,” she said, and I could see the desire in her eyes. She looked a lot like Kallian, only with freckles lightly dusted over her nose and cheekbones.

“If it was that easy, then every elf would be rich as a king,” I shot back, looking down at the dagger in my hands. “And the guy lives in the slums. What makes you think he has any money at all?” I questioned with a shake of my head, not buying into it. Denerim was separated into parts, for the most part. You had Fort Drakon, which was on the edge of the city, and next to it was the Royal Palace and all the Noble Estates.

Over the King’s Bridge, you had the Market Square, the biggest one in the city. Towards the docks is where the poor were gathered. The slums were on a sliding scale of awful with the Alienage being the worst of all. The house that was being proposed that we break into, intimidate a human living in it, and rob him for all he was worth was located in the slum that was a single notch above the Alienage. Barely.

“It’s a great idea, Azoth,” Kallian repeated, sounding certain of it. The fact that she had to say that told me, no, it wasn’t a great idea. “Fibian saw some shems come ago from the room. She was going to cut their purse, but they went inside before she could. When they came out, they didn’t have it on ‘em. She says that no one’s come out the building since, meaning that it's still there.”

I saw her logic. “Then why is Fibian bringing this to you instead of robbing ‘em herself?” I questioned, making Kallian’s brow furrow.

“She said that the place gave her the creeps,” Kallian admitted, sounding reluctant.

“Maybe,” I heard Soris, the only other guy in the back alley, speak up, “we should… reconsider this?” He offered -- Soris was around my age of fifteen. Brown hair cut short, long nose, with brown eyes. He was the tallest, but thin, so he was lanky and about as awkward as me.

Shianni groaned, “Don’t be such a wet blanket, Soris.”

“Fibian is so scared of the place she’s not willing to go in it for, as you put it, enough coin to make us as rich as some shems,” I quoted Kallian right back at her, much to her annoyance. “So, I’m scared too. Quaken’ in my boots, really. If you hear something knockin’, it's me knees.”

Kallian blew out a breath, “Fine. Then we’ll go without you,” she said, reaching out for the dagger that she gave me, only to grasp empty air as I brought the dagger closer to me. My lips thinned at that. The only thing worse than getting murdered in some creepy building was the idea that I let my friends go off to get murdered in some creepy building without doing anything. Because… I wasn’t as smart as I liked to think I was, it seemed. “Are you coming or not, Azoth?”

My gaze slid to Soris, seeing him struggle with the same dilemma as me. We had a dynamic going on -- Kallian and Shianni were the crazy ones and Soris and I were the voices of reason. For all the good that it did considering I don’t think either of us had ever managed to say no to Kallian when she set her mind on something. And now, unfortunately, it was to rob some poor fellow blind.

Soris offered a shrug and I couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped me. “Fine. I’ll come. But I’m not happy about it,” I groused, earning a thoroughly smug grin from Kallian.

“Noted. If we all die, you can use your last breath to tell me ‘I told you so,’” She decided before turning around to continue down the alley. Shianni quickly fell in step, just not before she gave me a teasing face that earned another sigh from me. Soris patted me on the back as he walked by, leaving me to bring up the rear.

“Don’t think I won’t,” I muttered under my breath, following along down the back alley. It was a filthy place and the dirt road was more of a mud one. It clung to my boots, each step threatening to take one right off my foot. Gripping the dagger with white knuckles, my heart pounding at my ribs, I tried to quell my nerves. It was difficult.

The world wasn’t kind to elves. Hadn’t been for… ever, really. Well, not in the past several thousand years at least. Most of our kind were confined into alienages that were far far too small for the number of people in it. Honest work was hard to come by because merchants and nobles only needed so many servants or laborers, leaving the rest to turn to less than savory means. Theft was the most common by far, but there were a number of elven gangs that dipped their toes into far more malicious crimes for coin.

All outside of the alienage, of course. There was some unspoken rule inside of it that all criminal activity would be directed outward instead of inward. It didn’t mean all elves got along, but we didn’t steal, rape, or murder each other. Those that did break that unwritten rule were dealt with so harshly that it'd make a human noble jump out of their seat.

I caught sight of the house we were supposed to be robbing in the dead of night without so much as another soul to be seen. The air carried an unnatural chill to it that seemed to cut right through my threadbare tunic and trousers. Above, in the night sky, only one of the two moons were visible, making the shadows longer and darker. Impossibly, my grip tightened on the dagger as we slogged through the mud towards the house, and with each step, I felt a knot of tension coiling in my gut.

The city was quiet, I realized. Far too quiet. I couldn’t hear a single dog barking, a couple shouting, or the general noise that came with too many people in a city that wasn’t big enough to contain them. Because the city was so quiet, I heard them. Faint whispers that just barely reached my ears, making it impossible to make out what they were saying. If the others heard them, then they gave no indication.

“I… think this is a really bad idea,” I whispered to them when Kallian reached the door first. Shianni was next to her, watching Kallian take out her lockpicks. “We should turn back.” I saw Shianni roll her eyes so hard they just about fell out her head. Soris seemed like he was considering it, but he shook his head.

“You can run if you want to, Azoth,” Shianni responded, her tone teasing. “Just expect to hear about it for the rest of your life. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you serve me at the palace I’m going to buy in Orlais,” she remarked, her expression triumphant before she looked to Kallian, who looked at the door with some puzzlement. “What's wrong?”

“The door is unlocked,” Kallian muttered back.

Soris let out a small disbelieving laugh, “Humans are something else, huh?” He remarked, thinking that the human had simply forgotten to lock his door. However, I knew differently. Elves didn’t have much body hair, but the little that I did was standing on end. Something was wrong. I could feel it deep in my gut.

Kallian stood up, her hand going to push it open. “No-” I started to stop her, deciding right there and then that I trusted my gut and we should run for the hills. It was just a moment too late. The door swung open on rusted hinges, making a low groan echo out. The interior of the hovel was completely hidden from view because there was an unnatural darkness that hung in the air. My fingers almost grasped her wrists before Kallian was yanked into the darkness.

It could only be a few feet deep, but Kallian vanished from sight, leaving behind only a shout. My heart lurched into my throat and before I even knew what I was doing, I dove forward into the void before me. At most… well… Kallian wouldn’t be dying alone.

Goose flesh rose on my arms as I fell face-first onto the floor, packed dirt sticking to my cheek as I scrambled to my feet. I’m lucky I didn’t accidentally stab myself in the fall. My gaze whipped around, seeing a sparsely decorated building -- nightstand, a few books on it, a small dining table… and I saw Kallian. Her face was bloodless, her expression one of absolute terror as a human stood behind her, his hand on her neck as he looked at me with eyes as black as the Void itself.

He wore a hood and the door slammed shut before either Shanni or Soris could get in. I didn’t hear them pounding on it. I think they might have run. I swallowed thickly, wielding my dagger in a double-fisted grip and pointing it at the human. His lips curled into a smile at that while Kallian whimpered when his fingers dug into her neck as if he were about to claw it out.

“How unexpected. For what reason have you come to my home, Azoth Surana?” He spoke and it was nothing short of a miracle that I didn’t soil myself when the human proved that he knew my name. “Are you here to learn what so many others have? Looking for lost secrets of elven lore known only to one that was there when it was written?”

What? “What?” I blurted, not even sure how to process that. Then it clicked what he said. About blood magic. My blood filled with ice.

“Ah, yes. I know what you are, young elfling. A mage. An apostate, to be precise. I see you have talent, but it is sadly unrealized,” the human remarked, his Void-like gaze searching me. Kallian, despite her position, looked at me with wide eyes upon learning that I was an apostate. “You have a spineless look about you, but that can’t be true, now is it? The beings known as demons must hound you with every step. Every time you close your eyes and rest, they tempt you. I imagine it must be awfully tempting to give in.”

He was right about that. The Fade was the realm of spirits and demons according to the Chantry, and mages could use magic because of their unique connection to the Fade. Because of that, demons plagued mages every time we went to sleep, our conscious mind going to the Fade. There, they would howl with rage with every slight we had suffered. Tempted us with pride or desire. Wore us down with despair and fear.

“You…” I spoke slowly, coming to a conclusion that seemed utterly impossible, “aren’t human.”

“I do try to put up appearances but even after all this time, I can’t say I’m very good at pretending to be human,” the… Demon admitted with a toothy smile that slowly spread on his face. “You may call me Gaxkang the Unbound. A demon of Choice,” he introduced himself and Kallian whimpered.

“I don’t suppose you’re about to give me a choice?” I said, trying to keep my tone lighthearted but it was a desperate hope. I only knew what the Chantry told me about demons and my own experience -- they were dangerous and they were liars. You couldn’t trust them with anything but to take advantage of your desperation. And they pounced when you were at your weakest.

Gaxkang rose a slow eyebrow, “You did come in here to rob me. I’m not sure why I would give you anything but excruciating deaths.”

“I’m so sorry, Azoth,” Kallian whispered, realizing that we were so completely over our head that we couldn’t see the sun any longer. Tears gathered in her eyes, but they refused to fall down her cheeks. She was too proud for that.

I took in a slow breath and let it out, “How about I give you a choice, then?” I said, catching Gaxkang’s attention. He seemed more amused than interested, but it was something. I could work with it. Because, for all that I lacked in strength, looks, height, and… generally everything else, I did have one thing going for me -- in a pinch, no one was more reliable than me.

“Interesting tactic. Very well then, what am I choosing between?” He asked me, seemingly thoroughly amused with my antics. I figured as a Choice demon, he was usually the one that offered the choices. Probably horrifying choices. But, flipping his role… demons in the Fade wanted to possess mages because they found the real world interesting. It was new. Different. I was trying to tempt him into experiencing something he hadn’t before.

I took a steadying breath. “Instant satisfaction or years of entertainment,” I offered, and his eyes were alive. They danced with a cruel mirth that terrified me more than words could ever properly convey.

“Ohhhh?” Gaxkang uttered, and I knew I had his interest. For better or for worse.

“You said you’ve been here since Arlathan? The empire of the elves?” Which, I realized, made him over two thousand years old. At least. “I’m betting you have the exact opposite issue that most demons have. I’m betting that this entire world feels like it's repeating itself -- the same mundane concerns day by day, history repeating itself over and over. Even when things change they’re still the same, only the names are different… I imagine you’re quite bored, Gaxkang. If you weren’t, we’d be dead already.” That was a fact. I could feel my life in the palm of his hands and the only thing that stopped him from squeezing the life out of the two of us was his boredom.

We were entertainment. Nothing more.

“Your offer is to entertain me? Break up the monotony? How, pray tell, are a few elven children supposed to manage that?” He asked me and I decided to go for broke.

“With your help.”

“HA!” Gaxkang let out a bark of laughter seemingly genuinely surprised. “How bold of you. Very bold indeed. To beg for my assistance along with your lives? I didn’t think you had that in you,” he said, offering a complement. I dared to let myself have some hope.

“You’re right. We’re a couple of nobodies. I can barely use my magic, and our ears are the wrong shape, but if you give us a little help, I promise you will see something that’ll get that heart of yours pumping,” I continued before swallowing thickly. “What do you say?”

“No,” Gaxkang said, dashing my hopes like waves upon the stormshore. My heart sank down to my stomach as I realized he was amusing himself with my desperate attempts. My mind raced, desperately trying to think of something. Within the Fade, I heard the whispers of demons, all of them promising powers. Enough power that I could kill Gaxkang where he stood, but I knew they were lying. I… ice-cold dread gripped my heart as my grip tightened on my dagger.

There was a long, drawn out, painful pause. Gaxkang watched me squirm, letting me come to terms with the fact I would be dying soon. Probably horrifically. With any luck, I’d blackout from the pain. But, I suppose, if I had any luck then I wouldn't have tried to help rob an ancient demon. It was after that pause did Gaxkang continue, “but, for the amusement you have offered, I will grant you this choice.”

I knew what was coming and I knew my answer.

“You may live… or she may,” Gaxkang offered. Kallian realized what he was going to offer as well.

“Azoth-”

“She gets to live,” I answered instantly, earning a cackle from Gaxkang. Kallian’s expression crumpled, trying to shake her head. This time, the tears did fall down her cheeks. I phrased it in a way that he couldn’t twist my choice. Kallian got to live. I would die. That was all there was to it. I was an apostate elf. Wasn’t like I was going to live a long life anyway.

“Ah, youth,” Gaxkang sighed, letting go of Kallian. She ran to me, grabbing my wrist.

“Let's go!” She shouted, determined to flee. That was ignorance. She didn’t understand what demons were capable of. The moment that we entered this quaint hovel, we officially died. It was nothing but a cruel sense of humor that was letting one of us come back to life.

I looked to the demon of choice, my decision made. “Get her out of here, please. I don’t want her to see.” I requested, and, surprisingly, the demon consented. The very same force that ripped Kallian inside of the building now threw her out of it. Her grip was ripped away from my wrist, her nails digging deep grooves in my skin. The door opened and shut after she was outside.

Gaxkang didn’t move like a normal man. He seemed to glide over the floor without really touching it despite the sound of his footsteps reaching my ears. A smile tugged at his lips while cruelty shone in his eyes, approaching me with casual ease. He paid no mind to the dagger still in my hand. It wouldn’t affect him in the slightest. I could feel it. Slowly, tormentingly, he reached out to cup my face in his hands, making me look at him. “You lived a good life, Azoth Surana. It was brief, but you were amusing… in fact, I have an idea.”

I didn’t dare let myself have hope and it was a good thing.

“I believe I would like to become you for a time. Days… months… a lifetime. I’ll live the life you would have lived -- a humble existence. Perhaps marry that girl and give her plenty of children… I can almost imagine it. The look of despair on her face when I reveal the truth. That you died here in this hovel and the years she thought she spent together with you were with your killer,” Gaxkang mocked me. I did my best not to tremble and glare defiantly at him.

It didn’t work because a second later, it felt like my mind was being ripped apart. As if someone had plunged a blade into my mind and started stirring it. A pained cry escaped my lips despite me, Gaxkang’s hands so cold on my cheeks that they burned. His grip was unyielding, almost as if he were made of stone. The demons in my ears screamed alongside me, but their screams were of horror.

I was dying. I could feel it. I felt myself… fading. Replaced with memories and sensations I didn’t recognize. A floating city. Men, women, elven and human, that I’ve never met. Powerful magic itching at my fingers to be used. Spells and intricacies of magic that I didn’t even know existed. All of it was being poured into my brain as Gaxkang forced himself into my mind.

My grip tightened on my dagger, barely aware of it because of the agony in my mind. Because I had a thought while it was still my mind.

I wasn’t a lot of things. Strong, brave, smart, talented, or notable in any conceivable way. But, the one thing that I was without a shadow of a doubt?

I was one spiteful son of a bitch.

The dagger jerked upwards. Thrusting it into Gaxkang would do nothing. I don’t think he would even feel it. Me, on the other hand? I would feel it very much so.

The tip of the dagger plunged into my throat deep enough that it was only stopped at the hilt. Hot blood spilled down my neck, quickly soaking my shirt and chest, before I completed the action and slashed outward, cutting my own neck. The pain in my head was so horrible that I hardly felt it, but I heard Gaxkang scream as he let go of me. I crumbled to the floor, my lifeblood seeping out of me in amounts that made my head dizzy.

Gaxkang, on the other hand, was thrashing around. His hands were at his throat like I had slit his, but he was howling in agony. He sounded like he was in as much pain as I was and my throat had been… huh…

My magic danced at my fingertips, humming with a power that I had never known before. I spent my entire life being afraid of my magic -- afraid of demons, afraid of Templars, afraid that I would be revealed and sent off to the Circle to never see my friends again. Closing my hand into a fist, I pulled at the Fade, channeling it, and cast a spell that I knew that I didn’t know. In response, I felt the blood stop gushing out of me in such quantities. Still, my head felt so incredibly light. And I felt so very cold.

Swallowing thickly, I looked to Gaxkang, who seemed to have absolutely no idea what was going on. He was in horrible agony. I think interrupting the transference spell hurt him and it hurt him badly. My gaze went to my dagger that was coated in my own blood, and in doing so, I caught glimpse of a far more intriguing prize. A sword. A longsword, but of Dalish make, I think. The blade was long but thin, hardly the width of two fingers, and it had a gentle curve to it, like a scimitar. Reaching out to it, I grabbed hold of the Keening Blade and rose to my feet.

“What did you do?! What did you do?!” Gaxkang screamed in pain, but while I understood the words, they were uttered in a language I had never heard before.

“Killed you,” I rasped, thrusting the Keening Blade into his back, through his heart. Gaxkang gasped at the injury, but it wasn’t enough to kill him. So, I kicked the back of his leg, forcing him to a knee while I ripped the blade free, before hacking his head clean off. I collapsed to my knees alongside him, my breathing ragged as I watched in dull amazement as Gaxkang the Unbound’s body began to fade into light, dissolving before my very eyes, until he vanished entirely.

It was then that I heard the door crash open, but I was unconscious before my face hit the dirt.

...

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