Unknown – 18th Harvestwatch
Timberheart Enclave, Holy Empire
Burning fields stretched as far as the eye could see, a sea of corpses not of the mortal realm. Twisted shapes piled upon one another, nightmarish and grotesque.
"Cale."
A voice called my name.
Blood soaked the ground, thick and clinging, its metallic scent suffocating. Above the hellstone ceiling was hidden by carrion birds circling and feasts.
"Cale."
I turned toward the sound, but no one was there. I stood alone in that forsaken field. No humans walked these depths, only fiends. And they did not call me Cale. To them I was Druvakaar Korruth.
The Butcher.
"Cale."
The voice came again. I spun, and felt a cold, metal hand grip my shoulder. Every muscle instinctively froze. No…. It couldn't be. Not again.
Slowly, I turned my head. Behind me loomed a jagged metal pyramid, its single red eye glowing from within. Copper wires and thick cables hung from its neck like twisted tendons. Its harsh fingers dug into my flesh.
"Cale." That voice. The damn emotionless, mechanical, and relentless voice. "Wake up."
I jolted upright, gasping, sweat drenched my bare skin. My hands shook as I clutched the sheets. A touch on my should made me flinch. I rolled off the bed, grabbing my sword and turning toward the intruder.
But there was no monster. No Doctor back for revenge. Only three women, startled and staring at me from the bed. Silken sheets and scattered ribbons of fabric framed the scene, remnants of last night's indulgence.
They were beautiful, each in their own way. An elf with bark brown skin and long ears. A half vulpian woman whose fox ears twitched beneath tousled hair. A
I lowered my blade with a sigh, they were not a threat. Just woman seeking comfort for a night. Still, the dreams left my pulse racing. These nightmares had stalked me since I returned. The past should stay buried, yet it never does.
"Cale."
A rough, familiar voice.
I turned to see a tall, jet black panther standing upon its hind legs, a felisian, standing in the doorway, dressed in fine noble attire. Three golden rings glinted on each ear, and jeweled chain ending in gold shaped like a playing cards diamond hung across his chest. Similar to the spade shaped one that hung across my own.
"Felix." I groaned. "What in the hells, man? I was sleeping."
Felix pinched the bridge of his nose, his whiskers twitching. "Gods above, it stinks in here."
"Felix, that's the smell of sex. You wouldn't know since it's been so long."
"I do know" he snapped, his voice smooth and aristocratic. "But I don't rut like a dying animal. And why, by the Seven, are there ropes hanging on your wall?"
I grinned, "You know why."
Felix expression twisted in horror. "Cale, get dressed. You were given two weeks' rest after the incident. That ended days ago. Your presence is required."
"If this is another mission, give me a break. I just finished one."
"That was an e over a week ago, and you failed to kill the traitors."
"Those traitors, were my friends. Ashren and Arbiter. You liked Ashren for gods' sake."
"Past tense. They made their decision to join the Cult. I made mine to stay in the Shadows." Felix glanced at his golden pocket watch, one of the Empire's newest inventions. "Enough delays. It's a meeting. With-" He glanced at the bed, "-Him and the other Aces"
"I'll be there." I said, sheathing my sword, "Don't wait for me… Unless you plan to help me."
"I'll pass." Felix muttered, "And take a bath before you arrive. You reek."
"It doesn't smell that bad. Your nose is just sensitive."
Felix sighed, exasperated. "
"You know how it works. I'm already at the fifth gate. Past the fifth gate, the body fundamentally changes. Siring an heir is impossible."
"That study was written by a man at the third gate." Felix growled. "You always quote that blasted paper like it's contraception itself. One day, your child will knock on your door and you are going to have to start facing your problems instead of," Felix's eyes lingered on the women, "running past them."
"I'll be long dead by then."
"You're not even thirty."
"Never planned to be."
"You--" He started, then gave up. "You're infuriating." He touched his pendant, vanishing in a swirl of golden ash.
My grin faded as the dust settled. Back to the Shadows. Back to the endless missions. I had been looking forward to working beside my friends. They had both just reached the fourth realm and could join me soon.
They even rescued me from the Doctor. Then they betrayed the Shadows not even a week later. Even Charlie couldn't find them. All that work, all that trust… gone. I shook my head, forcing the thought away. The past was dead.
I turned back toward the bed. The women clutched the sheets, eyes wide.
"Lord Cale," The elf, Saria, said softly. "Shall I draw you a bath?"
"Do so."
She rose gracefully, stretching before sashaying toward the bath. The moonlight traced her gods graced figure. Maybe being late would not be so terrible. Kaino would yell later, but he always did.
I glanced at the other two woman and pointed toward the curtain door. "Leave."
They obeyed quickly, slipping past me and vanishing into the night. I followed soon after, stepping into the open air.
Below me stretched the vast forest of Timberheart, its canopy glowing silver beneath twin moons. The blood moon hung above, while the blue moon sank toward the horizon. The walkway beneath my feet curved around a massive tree, its trunk wider than a dragon was tall. There were no guardrails, just open air and a hundred foot drop to the elven city below.
I chose this tree for the view, and as I relieved myself over the edge, I decided I had chosen well.
"My lord, your bath is ready," Saria called.
I stepped back inside, weaving through scattered garments. Saria stood beside a steaming bath, her hands folded neatly before her.
"Would you like assistance, my lord?" She asked in a soft, sultry tone, approaching and trailing a hand down my chest.
"I should be swift," I murmured.
"I can help with that." She leaned close, skin brushing mine.
I lifted her easily, her laugh quiet and breathless, and carried her to the bath.
"I do have to be swift." I murmured. She leaned in, her skin touching mine, "But," a grin touching my lips, "I'm sure they'll be just fine."
Half an hour later, after cleansing both body and soul, I dressed in my gear. Saria helped fasten the clasps and adjust my cloak. Dragonhide reinforced with hydra scale, elven boots gifted by Saria, and a cloak crafted from Fenrir fur. The one my friends had hunted down to replace the last. It had become my favorite.
"How long will you be gone?" She asked quietly.
"About a week, maybe less."
Her face fell. "You always say that. When will you tell me what you really do out there? You come back wounded, half dead, and refuse to speak of it."
"If I tell you, it puts you in danger," I said, taking her hand. "Focus on running the brothel. If anyone asks, I'm just a patron, a mercenary you took a liking to."
Saria's expression softened. "Then travel safe, my lord. And may watch over you."
I nodded once before stepping through the beaded curtain, and facing the rising sun.
At the edge of the platform, I looked down at the people no larger than ants. I raised a hand to my pendant, and leapt.
As I fell, the runes on the necklace flared to life, and I vanished into mist. The wind shearing past my ears vanished, replaced instantly by the warm, liquid notes of a jazz piano.
I stood on a plush, crimson carpet. The air smelled of old wood and spilled bourbon. In front of me was a dark oaken bar, polished to a mirror shine. Behind it, a masked man in a black vest and red bowtie polished a glass, his movements perfectly in time with the music.
"Bartender," I nodded, already moving toward the door on the far side of the room.
"Good to see you back safe, Master Cale," His voice was smooth and unbothered as ever.
I pushed the door open. The music cut off as if sliced by a blade.
The air here was quiet. Quaint. Morning light, faint and pearlescent, filled the streets of a small, perfect village. But it was an unnatural stillness. No birds sang. No insects chirped. Nothing lived on this islands that the Shadows didn't explicitly allow.
I walked the silent, cobbled streets, descending until I reached a white, sandy beach. Soft waves lapped at the shore, then cascaded silently over the island's edge, falling into the endless void below. I never bothered to ask how the water returned. I didn't really care.
I grasped the pendant around my neck, channeling Ki into it. A shimmer rippled the air in front of me, and a white marble staircase appeared, leading up to a simple white door that hovered impossibly in the empty sky.
As I ascended, I glanced down. Several members trained on the beach, their forms sharp and swift. More than last time I was here, but still… key figures were missing. Friends.
I opened the door and walked in.
All sensation vanished. No wind, no warmth, no sound, no smell. The air was stale and frozen. My boots crunched on a path of black, glassy sand. Endlessly all around me, trees made of pale grey crystal took root, faint pulses of light running through them like veins.
Slowly the dim light grew brighter as an enormous, impossibly bright golden tree came into view at the crest of the hill. Beneath it sat a large white metal table.
Several figures were already seated. Charlie, currently wearing the face of a high elf, looked up at me, her expression a mask of annoyance. Felix glowered at his pocket watch, then at me.
Kaino's spot was glaringly empty.
At the head of the table sat the Magician. Crisp white suit, matching pants, white shoes. A single mask adorned both his face and his identity. It was a simple as could be, with a single smiling mouth and two eyes curved upward into a happy face.
"You're late." Charlie snapped.
I took my seat. "Sorry for my tardiness. I was preoccupied." I said, nodding at Felix.
My gaze finally settled on the head of the table.
On the Magician.
The simple, smiling mask stared back, inanimate. As always, I searched for a sign. A tensing of the shoulder, a subtle shift in weight, the barest hint of a rhythm in his breathing.
There was nothing.
It was like staring at a rock wall. I couldn't tell if my actions amused him, infuriated him, or if he'd even registered it. This was what always set my teeth on edge. In a world that was predictable, he was the one unpredictable factor.
A neutral voice echoed from behind the mask. "You have recovered."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement. But the tone… was it warm? Cold? It was just… a voice. It offered no clues.
"Yes," I said.
"The Doctor left no lasting injuries?" The mask's head tileted, a simple non committal motion.
"None."
"Good." The mask straightened. "Kaino was last seen in Duskmere, on the Tifan Wall. Locked in combat with Balu after she destroyed Tifan's Gate."
My stomach tightened. Kaino was strong, even I would have some trouble against him. But Balu… she outclassed him.
"He is a vital piece," the Magician stated. "You are to find him. Ensure that he comes back alive."
A vital piece. Not a friend. Not an Ace. A piece.
"Although you failed to stop the opening of hell. Your mission is still active. Prevent the spread of miasma.
"Understood."