Chapter 239 - A History of Pain (Patreon)

The air grows thick with tension as I await the Duke to explain his secrets with me. After silence lingers for what feels like an eternity, the low-pitched voice on the other end of the door starts to explain its history of pain. “By now, you know that the Rotblight plague took its toll on my household, claiming my beloved wife and my daughter’s legs. As hard as it was... is... to live without my Deirdre, I did all I could to continue my role as a father and as the Duke of Arrark. I like to think I did my best during that time, I really do, but it wasn’t meant to last. Six years after my wife’s passing, there was a revolt in Dawnstead.”

“I think I remember hearing something about that, but I’m ashamed to admit I don’t know any of the details...”

“You’ve received plenty of gifts today, Guild Master,” Solomon laughs as dryly as the desert. “I suppose I should throw in one of my own. I’ll see to it myself that your Guild starts getting a damn newspaper.”

“Thank you, I would be very grateful,” I smile at the Steward, only for Gloomcrest to continue speaking as if no one interrupted him.

“Peasants stormed the castle with the intent of killing my daughter and me. They accused me of hoarding wealth and overtaxing the province to pay for the dozens of exotic pets I gifted to Abigail when in reality, I afforded them by selling off just about every heirloom I had. There’s just no bargaining with House Lightbringer loyalists...

“House Lightbringer? As in Arrarkia Lightbringer?”

“Yes. It’s a long story.” The Duke sighs, refusing to answer. “In total, they numbered almost a thousand. We could have handled it if not for...”

“If not for what?”

Hesitation consumes the Duke. Whatever he wanted to say now feels heavy in his throat, and he can’t bring himself to do it.

“Some members of the mob were suspiciously skilled and heavily armed for mere peasants.” Solomon implies. “Nothing could ever be proven, of course, but...”

“Ah. I understand.” Gloomcrest really thinks Sam’s maternal grandfather tried to assassinate them? Gods, Abigail would have only been twelve at the time... that’s horrible. But... if there was no line of succession, I could see Duke Glorigold using it as an excuse to invade Arrark with or without the King’s permission.

“And they almost got her, too...” Osbourne’s words are dampened by his increasing sobbing. “I was on the frontlines trying to reason with my subjects and striking back where I could, but... I couldn’t hold them all off... my Marshal arrived just in time to swap places with me, and I... I dashed through the secret stairways to protect Abigail... and... Goddess, please...”

“Ozzy,” Opalina says with her best soothing voice while wearing a sad expression. “You don’t have to talk about this if it hurts too much.”

Her words fall on deaf ears as soon the troubled man continues to pour his emotions into the open for all to see. “All the happiness I bought Abigail was temporary... dead... they were all dead by the time I got there... the dog, the cat, the horse, the bear, the wyvern, every single creature that made my daughter smile died protecting her! Damn it... DAMN IT ALL!” A loud crash slams into the wall to the left of the Duke’s door, most likely the sound of him throwing his chair into the wall. From beneath the door, shadows bellow out like living flames.

Despite the protective charm hanging around under my neck, my instincts tell me not to let those shadows touch me under any circumstances. They’re different than Zutiria’s dark magic, somehow. They’re primal... hungry... demanding, even. Such powerful darkness exists for one thing and one thing only- to swallow the world whole and ask for more.

I jump out of my chair and take several steps away from the danger.

“Osbourne-” Solomon stands up, letting the boxes and the sword fall from his body. He rushes to the door, unafraid of the shadows.

“OZZY!” Opalina rises, too. Once again, she calls out to her old friend, trying to snap him out of the depressive state that he worked himself into.

“DON’T,” Gloomcrest snaps as his Steward turns the doorknob. “Don’t, Solomon. I’m alright... I’m... I’ll be fine.” The Duke takes a series of labored breaths as he steadies himself, and Solomon reluctantly drops his grip on the handle. The angry darkness recedes back beneath the door, returning to its master. “I’m sorry you had to bear witness to one of my fits, Guild Master. It was very unbecoming of me...”

“...No, I spoke dramatically out of turn. I shouldn’t have asked you about such personal things.” I tell him, trying to de-escalate while keeping my genuine opinions on the matter a secret.

“You didn’t know it would end up like this...” He sighs, then the mail slot opens once again and extends his corpse-like hand, gesturing for me to take it. “Before I have a much-deserved rest, come here for a moment. I want to show you there are no hard feelings.”

While I don’t feel threatened anymore, the idea of a handshake still unsettles me. Opalina looks like she’s about to stop me, but I shrug it off and regret the decision immediately as soon as I take his hand in mine. Colder than ice, contact with the Duke’s skin seemingly saps away any happiness, joy, from my body. The memory of my dreams fades into nothing, as do the smiles of the people in my life who bring me comfort and love. Love means nothing, anyway...

Nothing matters, and it never did...

“I will not let anyone hurt my family ever again. We stay in our rooms because the entire Realm hates us and wants us dead. Let me just say I am thrilled that my daughter is interested in someone of the opposite sex. Truly. Nothing would make me happier than having an heir. However... let it be known that my beloved Abigail will never leave my side again. As long as I draw breath, her doors will remain closed. Is that understood?”

“Yes... Of course...” Who am I to blame a man for wanting to protect his daughter? Hells, who am I to condemn a man for shutting himself off from the world in the first place? I did the same thing to myself for five years, after all. If Gloomcrest is a pathetic pile of shit, then so am I...

“How dare you!” Opalina steps forward, and the coldness enveloping my soul thaws just a little. “If you don’t let go of him right this second, Osbourne, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? We both know I can turn you in at the drop of a hat.”

Opalina’s face twists with rage, and her fist tightens across her wand so hard that it almost snaps. “Are you even listening to yourself right now?!”

“My Duke, this behavior is simply unacceptable!” Solomon screams.

“None of you can stop me from protecting my daughter. No, not even you, Abigail. Don’t even think about sending in one of your pets. Be a good girl. Close your door, and go back to your room.”

“Father, don’t do this...!” A fragile voice no louder than a mouse cries from within the room.

“TO. YOUR. ROOM!” The Duke shouts like a madman. No one says anything back.

I can feel everything fading. In another few minutes, I know that I won’t feel anything ever again, and that fact is alright with me because caring takes too much effort. I welcome the nothing.

“Good girl. Now, as for you, Guild Master. Do you promise to never tempt my poor, innocent daughter into wanting to leave her room?”

I want to tell him yes, but... it doesn’t come out no matter how hard I try.

None of this is right. That poor girl must feel even worse than I do right now. She lives such a sad little life, and she can’t do anything about it. Abigail... she needs help. When I think of her, I know that I can’t just jump headfirst into the abyss. Not while she’s still suffering. Her life has been so hard already, and her damned father doesn’t know how much worse he’s made it all in the name of protecting her.

“Let... go of me...” I hiss back, my fist clenching as anger swells within me.

“What...?!” Gloomcrest is stunned as his magic starts to lose some of its effects. I try to wrench my hand away, but my strength hasn’t returned enough. He’s stronger than his pale, corpse-like hand makes him look.

The mad Duke tightens his grip now that I’m resisting, barking at me to agree that I’ll not lead Abigail astray. Opalina and Solomon try to pull me off of him, but Gloomcrest’s magic must spread out from me and onto them. They both rear back, stung by the depressive burst. If a witch as strong as Opalina cowers back, then the power of Osbourne’s magic speaks for itself.

Suddenly, I hear the secret passageway opening up nearby. Armored footsteps hit the stone floor one after the other, each one all but shaking the earth under the stranger’s feet.

“Let go,” A new voice says from behind me, a deep, intense, commanding voice. From over my shoulder, a black gauntlet casually reaches out and grab’s the Duke’s wrist. It breaks with the sound of a horrific, wince-inducing crunch. Osbourne screeches in pain and releases his hold on me.

I stumble back, only for my savior to catch me by my shoulder. “You good?” He asks.

Adjusting my balance, I turn to look at the man and find a mammoth standing nearly 9ft tall. He wears plated black armor covered in spikes and emblazoned with red trimming. Sitting atop his breastplate are numerous military service medals, each one telling a different story of excellence and bravery. Beneath his armor is a second layer of protection- magnificent dark chainmail covering everywhere his plating can’t defend. Behind him trails a dark gray blood-stained cape tattered with holes and tears from what looks like decades of combat experience.

His face is harsh, severe in the way that only an experienced knight can be. He has dark gray, short-cropped hair and his chiseled face is without a shred of facial hair. This black-clad, serious warrior looks down at me with an expressionless stare present on his steely indigo eyes.

“Yes,” I nod my head and rub my wrist after stepping away from his support. “I’ll be fine.”

“Good.” The knight acknowledges as bluntly as possible.

“Victor, thank the Goddess below you’re here...” Solomon takes a handkerchief and dabs it across his brow. The poor old gargoyle looks like he aged another decade from all this stress.

“Thank you, Vic,” The witch nods her head at the knight and struts to my side. Opalina takes my wrist, inspecting it for damage. She gives up after finding none, then frowns and stares at the door. “Are you happy, Osbourne? Look at what you’ve done!”

Another flash of darkness spreads out from under the door- the same shadows that healed the Duke earlier when Sombre attacked. His voice becomes a whimper as he says, “No... I... I didn’t mean to do that... I’m sorry... I’m so sorry. Leave me be. Please...”

I find myself unable to respond to him, still feeling the aftereffects of his magic. Opalina hugs me tight to her bosom and speaks for me as I catch my breath. “You can forget your afternoon nap, Osbourne. We need to have a chat.” She says so coldly I can almost feel the biting chill.

“...Yes. Of course. I’m sorry. Anything you say.” The miserable man sobs back in response.

I’m led down to the fourth floor with Opalina, Solomon, and Victor Kahnt, the Lord Marshal of Arrark. Here, away from the Duke and his poor daughter, we can briefly discuss what all just happened.

Solomon reveals that Gloomcrest suffers from some severe mental issues because of what happened in the past. He and Opalina apologize for not warning me, but neither thought he would have one of his episodes during our meeting. Most of the time, he’s content to just stay in his room and brood while being harmless, but other times he can become aggressive the longer he dwells on his own sadness.

This is apparently a terrible thing, considering the type of warrior Osbourne actually is. The Duke is classified as a Dark Knight, a melee class who draws power from their own reserves of negative emotions to cast simple but powerful dark magic. As a depressive shut-in with almost nothing but negative emotions in the first place, Osbourne Gloomcrest’s power is nothing to be trifled with, even if it’s been thirty-some years since the rebellion. I guess Opalina wasn’t lying when she said that talent for dark magic runs in their family.

As much as I want to talk with Abigail, Victor explains he was coming to escort me to see Chasteworth. The knight has other things to do today, so we need to take care of my interrogation now since Victor needs to be present. Opalina will go back up and have a long talk with Osbourne in the meantime. When she’s done, she plans on visiting the Court Mage. When I’m done with my visit, she tells Victor to lead me to Xothan’s study. He agrees since it’s apparently not far from the dungeon, and with that, we all split up as the memory of the Duke’s outburst remains fresh in our minds.