Deus Necros

Immediately after, Titania stood up. The exhaustion was gone the way a fog lifts when the sun cuts it. The blood streaks from her eyes and on her face withered away as if scrubbed by invisible hands. She shook her eyelids once and twice. The lids moved over hollows that were no longer hollows. She opened them and revealed two new sets of blue crystalline eyes. They caught the remaining light and threw it back in sharp little shards. She set her jaw and rolled it, testing the hinge, feeling where the pain had gathered and where it would not matter.

She made sure to test and see if anything was missing first, as if scanning herself before she could make judgement. Another crack of her neck, and soon, a squirming scrunch of her mouth, as if tasted something most vile and most vicious.

She opened her mouth. “Fuck,” she cursed. The word came out like a pebble fired from a sling. She pulled out a small waterskin, tipped it, rinsed her mouth, and spat. The spit came black and thick, old filth brought up by the wash. “Fucking filthy fingers, I can still feel them in my mouth.” She took another sip and spat again until the taste gave up.

While doing that, her hand had risen. She did not need to gesture with flourish. She made a single clean sweep, and every nail, stake and binding on the soldiers and paladins, even the hero himself, ripped out of the wall in obedience to the will that moved through her. The iron sang once in protest and then went mute. Bodies sagged and then were held by something gentle that set them down rather than dropped them. The cave filled with the immediate roar of many throats trying to make sense of pain and relief at the same time.

Now with the opening of the chamber of the moon, the statue that was there allowed her access to her own deities and their prowess. No longer was she but a mere experienced knight of the church. She is now the Holy Maiden of the Holy Order. And with that came noise. From the ones she just freed.

They soon began screaming in pain and agony as their bodies were being healed in real time. Nerves woke where they had been cut. Eyes regrew in sockets that had been empty. Tongues reconstructed in mouths that had forgotten how to shape breath into sound. The sensation of the world slammed back into them. Sight, taste, the scrape of air, the pull of breath. All of it returned with the price to pay. The sound of it clawed at the stone.

“…” Ludwig could only stare at what happened. The part of him that measured odds ticked once, changed a line, and said nothing. The part that wasn’t a fan of other gods marked the way the light felt on his skin and filed it away.

“What you looking at?” Titania asked as she approached. Her boots made a steady sound on the floor. The golden wash around her was already shrinking back into the skin where it came from.

“I guess you never needed my help…”

“Yes and no… if he ever opened that door, he would have died immediately…” She glanced past Ludwig toward the Chamber of The Moon “We walked into this damned trap on our own,” she said. The admission had no shame in it, only the flat view of a soldier who has misread a place and paid the cost.

“But… what if he killed you before he did?” He set the thought on the table because it belonged there.

“That is the part we will never know,” Titania said. She looked him up and down the way a swordmaster looks at a student after a hard season. “Still,” she said, and there was a sliver of approval in the angle of her mouth, “what a fine progress you have made.”

[You are in a hostile Environment]

The System message line slid across Ludwig’s vision even as his body moved before the words finished.

He realized it there and then, if he tried to ’only’ block he’ll die.

In less than the time it takes to blink, he flash stepped back and drew his sword. The blade came up to meet a roaring wave of pure Aura that had already leapt from Titania. The clash was immediate. It bit into bone and stone and sent a shiver through the room. Dust lofted and hung as if held on strings.

The contact rocked the cave for a breath of time. The benching stones under their feet thudded twice as if a great heart had been stamped into them. The newly freed gasped and cowed as the wave rolled over and past without cutting them.

“You really grew strong… to be able to detect killing intent and react to it this acutely and this fast…” Her voice did not lift. The observation was simple and true. It sat between them like a third blade.

[You are no longer in a hostile Environment]

The line faded as quickly as it had come. The edge between them softened but did not go away.

“I suppose you have a reason for attacking the person who just saved you.” He did not lower his weapon. He did not raise it either. His stance carried the patience of a man who has been tested by worse and knows better than to chase pride.

“Call it a conflict of doctrine.” Titania’s words were loud and clear. And they were obvious.

I know what you are.

Misty realized it too and could not help, “Lady Titania!” The name broke out of her before she could trap it back.

“QUIET!” Titania howled. The sound filled the stone and left no corners for protest. “Do not say a single word. I will handle you later… for now,” Titania turned to the rest of the group, “we have people to tend to.” She pointed with the same hand that had torn the iron loose and then eased men down. Authority ran down her arm like water and spread across the floor.

“You there, Knight of the Sand Kingdom, you are hereby under arrest. Do cooperate. I have little patience for any rebellions, especially from a man with one foot in the grave.” The tone did not sharpen. It did not need to. It pressed.

Princess, I hope you can convince your knight that his life is not worth wasting for mere pride.”

The princess could not help but nod. Her hand rose and rested on her knight’s shoulder. She did not need to speak. The look she gave him was gentler than the order and heavier. She shook her head once. He stared at the floor and then at the sword and then at her hand. The metal slipped from his fingers. He dropped to his knees because his body had been waiting for permission to do so and had finally been given it. The fever steamed off him in the cold air and left him shaking.

Titania on the other hand looked like a person with a million questions. None of them had an immediate answer. She held them in a neat stack behind her eyes and did not let a single one bleed into order or mercy. The golden light around her dimmed by degrees and left the smell of rain heavier in the room than before. The crow on the distant altar watched with its stone face and did not blink.

And in the middle of all of this, Ludwig who just realized that his undead secret was exposed to the strongest person in the Holy Order. His arch nemesis.