Amos thought over all the implications of Xaemarra's visit and more without moving from his seated position. The Infinite Lake was as still as ever. This place had always been quiet, lonely. It made sense, recalling Ink's description of it as the realm of the dead. Amos thought of theories of the afterlife from his old world.
The Infinite Lake was most similar to Limbo - a liminal space full of nothingness and waiting. He connected it to the River Styx of Greek mythology, the purifying waters he had to be consumed by to enter this place. There was a possibility of hidden consequences to accessing the Lake. Amos hadn't seen any so far, but Ink had warned him it was dangerous.
It was for this reason - the eternal stillness of the Infinite Lake - that Amos noticed the small disturbances in the water.
The Lake broke its own peace. The water moved slowly, like a lazy river current cutting through the hillside. Amos stood quickly, looking around, bewildered.
The water flowed toward a central point. It began to move faster and faster. It turned from a trickle, to a tide, then a cascading roar as the previously impenetrable obsidian earth trembled.
Amos saw the reason for the water's movement: A hole. The obsidian was splitting. The opening was a circular pit that formed by the ground melting away like ice before a flame.
Then the metaphorical flame rose through the sky: The source of the chaos emerged.
There was nowhere for Amos to hide. The two men that rose from underneath the realm of death spotted him immediately. The obsidian closed behind them, stretching surreally to meet itself once again and cover the hole.
The first man was dressed in a fine doublet made of a navy velvet. The buttons were polished brass and the whole affair was tied together by a golden trim on the hems. Over one of his broad shoulders was draped a half-cape, the folds of the cloth enveloping his arm and hiding it within the shadows. His face was sharp and angular, but the most striking of all was his eyes: The irises were a dark crimson that betrayed extreme intelligence.
Red eyes filled with hubris...
He led - pulled, more accurately - the other man through the unfathomable opening. This second arrival was inferior in every aspect to the first. He was weaselly, pale, and withered. Where the first man entered the Lake gracefully, this one stumbled over himself. His clothes were cheaper than the velvet doublet, though they appeared to be standard issue; part of some uniform. There was a badge affixed to his shoulder with an icon of a potion bottle and two crossed arms underneath it. The only thing distinguishing this symbol from the one above Amos' front door was the skull in the centre of the bottle, and a small knot of black thread hanging from it.
The most striking thing, however, about the second man was the exposed bone. One side of his face featured sunken cheekbones and pallid skin, deep set eyes with a deadness in them. The other gave way to the skull beneath. The skin transitioned from grey to shrivelled black gangrene, then smooth bone. His eye socket was empty, teeth drawn into that iconic permanent grin, giving him the appearance of a half smile.
"How interesting, Darian..." muttered the man in blue, raising an eyebrow at his companion. His voice was a deep rumble. Low, promising.
The second man - the uniformed half-skeleton named Darian - caught the glance and interpreted its meaning, which was lost on Amos. He snapped to attention, catching himself. "Trespass!" Darian screamed at Amos, "Interloper! Declare yourself! State your business, now!"
These guys look dangerous, I probably can't fight them.
I'll try bluffing!
"I am the ruler of this place, divine overseer of the dead and Lord of the Infinite Lake!" Amos puffed out his chest and tried to lower his voice an octave. "Trespass? In my own realm? Ha!"
"Master?" Darian looked to the red-eyed man in confusion.
"Lord of the Infinite Lake, you say?" A smile crept onto the thin lips of Darian's master. "I think you may be mistaken, lost soul."
"Leave, now," Amos tried, his confidence wavering, "Or face my wrath!"
"Be a good man and take care of this thing, won't you?" Darian's master ignored Amos, speaking to his subordinate. "We have much to discuss."
At this point, he showed his back to both Amos and Darian, stretching out the hand not covered by his half-cape to the open air. He gripped something invisible and pulled it towards him. The obsidian ground responded to his gesture, breaking its uniformity to surge forward. It was as liquid as the water resting atop it, until the man released his grip. The obsidian immediately solidified into a throne of dark glass, which Darian's master promptly took. He laced his fingers in front of his face and rested his chin on them.
"Quickly now," he said, "earn your colours, my Putresco."
Darian bowed to his master, then turned to face Amos. "The dead have no use for delusion," he said, cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck.
Just one...
Half-dead, no weapons.
This might be a fair fight.
Amos settled into a pose that felt good. He didn't really know what he was doing, but he had played Street Fighter in his old life. It couldn't be too hard to throw a punch. The void portal back home was a decent distance if he needed to run, but it was manageable.
Darian ran forwards. His feet splashed through the water as he came. Amos waited for his move to react.
Darian ducked low, striking upwards. His blow was a claw grip, aimed at Amos' heart. Amos reacted in time and slapped it away.
Strange... Not punching...
Darian's arm went wide, under the direction of Amos' slap. His guard was open. Amos bent his knees and used the elbow of his free arm to attack Darian, aiming for the head. It connected with a sickly crack and sent Darian sprawling to the side.
The newcomer to the Lake put a hand to his head, woozy. Amos stepped back a bit. "That all you got?" he taunted with newfound confidence.
Darian spat a globule of blood, mixing it with the water. He looked at Amos with derision. He stood straight, pointing with an index finger at Amos, then said simply, "Hold."
A ghostly spectre erupted from the water and reached out with grasping, spindly fingers to grab onto Amos' legs. He didn't have time to react and found himself entangled with the thing. Its grip was strong - stronger than it had any right to be. Amos couldn't move.
Darian smiled, the flesh of his pale lips matching the shape of the grinning skull. He pointed at Amos again, "Restrain."
Another ghost burst from the water, behind Amos. The first one held him so he couldn't turn to defend against it, while the second grabbed his arms and held them in a vicelike grip behind his back.
Amos thrashed, trying to free himself. It was no use.
Darian came towards him, slowly, enjoying the moment. He grabbed Amos by his blond hair, tilting his head back with a forceful yank. He studied his eyes - socket on stormy grey. With a sneer, he pulled back his elbow and snapped it across Amos' face.
Pain shot through like a dagger. His vision blurred. This guy was strong. Blood dripped from his nose. Darian did it again.
CRUNCH.
And again.
SNAP.
Amos couldn't help himself. Darian had begun laughing. They both seemed to have forgotten about the man on the throne, who interjected. "Finish it, Darian. We have business," he said in a flat tone.
"Yes, Master," Darian said turning away to look at the man on the obsidian throne.
Mistake...
Darian turned to look back at Amos. He begun speaking before he met his eyes, "Souls should know their place. Let me show y-"
Amos headbutted him in the nose. Tears welled up in Darian's single eye as an involuntary response to the attack. He staggered back, his hands instinctively coming up to cover his face. The spectres dissipated, letting Amos free.
Amos stumbled forward, not letting Darian recover. He threw his fists at his head, blow after blow. He missed more often than not, due to the dizziness. The onslaught was enough to drive him back, and in the shallow water, Darian lost his footing. He fell backwards.
Amos jumped on the opportunity and straddled Darian. He sent punches into Darian's guard, hoping to break through with one, at least. Fist met forearm, again and again. Skin split. Blood mixed. Bone cracked. Amos' teeth were gritted and spittle flew, thick and heavy. He was a machine.
One punch got through, meeting the exposed jaw. It cracked and Darian began to scream. A surge of adrenaline gave him the strength to push Amos back and they staggered away from each other.
Amos was panting. He wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Darian had hatred in his eyes. His master was laughing in the distance, deep and hearty.
Darian reached into the breast of his uniform and pulled out a little pouch. He opened it and grabbed a fistful of dark soil, then threw it at Amos' feet.
"Perish."
Nothing happened.
Darian's eyes widened in shock.
"Master!" he said, "It's not a soul! He's a living human!"
Amos winked at him.
"So?" his master said flippantly, "He's unarmed."
Darian gritted his teeth and nodded. He returned the pouch to his breast pocket, then sunk into a defensive stance. He cast that hateful, lopsided gaze onto Amos and beckoned him forward.
Amos raised his fists like a boxer, then thought better of it. He reached down and splashed the water at Darian, aiming for his eye. With the inferior temporarily blind, he turned and ran with all his remaining strength to the portal.
Darian cursed behind him and gave chase. His master's bellowing laughter followed them.
The portal was approaching. Amos reached out a hand, but he wasn't fast enough. Darian grabbed onto his tunic and pulled him backwards. They both fell.
Darian tried to get on top, pushing Amos down with his arm. They were too close together for punches and kicks. Amos took the only option he saw left, and bit Darian's arm. The flesh came away too easily, like biting off a piece of cotton candy. The muscle beneath was deteriorated, blackened. Darian didn't seem hurt.
Amos spat the rotten flesh out and tried a headbutt again. Darian was ready this time and dodged. The portal was so close. He just had to get up. To touch it.
Darian began to strangle Amos. Breathless, he reached up with his fingers, trying to pry away the hands around his neck. They wouldn't budge. Amos' face turned red and was moving into purple. He kicked weakly at the man killing him slowly, trying to push him back, anything.
Amos' head began to pound.
"Get up, body snatcher."
A familiar pain ricocheted behind his eyes. Not the pain of the light going out while he was strangled, but the stabbing of a body sharing two souls. It increased incrementally, sharper and sharper, providing a strange clarity to his asphyxiating brain.
His arms moved on their own, with a strength that wasn't his. They snapped into Darian's stomach, striking over and over. The skeletal man's organic eye bulged in pain, but it wasn't enough.
"My ultimate move..."
Amos' arms dropped, control ceded back to him. This time it was his right leg that moved on its own. Snaking up with a speed and force Amos had never known. His kneecap drove directly into the soft undercarriage between Darian's legs and his hands suddenly popped open. He tumbled to the side, groaning and holding his nether region to soothe the pain.
"Now get home."
Amos was free and gasped at the air. The pain in his head left and he immediately began crawling to the portal. From all fours he reached, stretching until he just barely touched the anti-light.
He felt the pull and blacked out. Hoping it would take him all the way through.