Chapter 4: Compulsion
"WAKE UP..."
With the burning halo above him, Nether approached the figure nested in sleep. But in revolt of his expectations, the figure didn't budge.
This is impossible. The Voice never fails, lest...
He reached his hands toward the sleeping figure, then his eyes widened. His hands phased through the body of the lying silhouette.
A projection... which means...!
He could've turned, but his movements were halted when the cold metallic feel of steel pressed against his neck.
"Young lord, pardon me, but I must ask." The metallic tinge retreated a little bit. "What brings the La-Gessieb to my quarters at this unholy hour?"
He retreated his hands from the virtual projection, sighting the projector far high up in the wooden window. It directed a crimson picturesque, carefully shrouded by the twin moons' scarlet glow.
He wiped the blood from his nostrils while fighting the dizziness in his head.
"STA..." He could've completed it when a putrid powder wafted over him, blown from the palms of the man before him, who now withdrew backward.
Nether let out a cough, and more wracking ones, as his eyes reddened and a cold feeling drowned his skull.
"I'm sorry, young lord. You have far meddled with the unseen forces of darkness." Through his dizzied vision, he could see the man faintly lighting up more flames atop the wooden stature of a plant.
"Crowflower." He spat out. "Aaargh!" He clutched his head as he roared at the ceiling. His head was as though it was still torn to pieces.
The figure drifted near, then stared at his weak eyes. "I see, my lord doesn't remember the name of this lowly servant." The brown-bearded man bowed slightly, then his blue eyes stared at him..
"I worship you, Kal-Xhalor." He gestured his thumb to his forehead, then to his lips.
"You are affiliated with the Cove—Covenant. A-are you n-not?" He gritted as he screamed, another pain tearing through his head.
"I am Her-Merab, a devotee of the Covenant." Then he felt Nether's pristine white hair. "How I have far wished to lay hands upon the Messiah. You truly are a creature of unfathomable beauty."
Then he stood, walked toward the counter where he scooped more of the ash from the burning crowflower branch onto his dried palms.
"Worry not. I only need you asleep. It is what they require."
He watched with widened eyes and a thumping heart as Her-Merab drew near. His eyes measured each step, even if the very world was swaying around him.
Listen, Kal-Ed. Pain is meant to be conquered. That remains the only difference between a man and a beast. A beast is one controlled by pain. A man is one who controls the pain.
Kal-Ed, you are no beast. You are a man.
The savior of mankind.
He collapsed onto the woven mattress, directly under the glow of the twin moons, with his eyes perfectly closed, bringing the man before him to a halt.
"Are you truly asleep, Kal-Xhalor?" He glanced at the ash on his palms. "They never specified it would be this effortless."
He had to make sure. He reached his weary fingers toward his chest, but midway, his hands were halted, suspended in the stillness of the night air.
No... it can't be. The Voice.He watched the Messiah's mouth move slowly and near-soundlessly, but he felt the ripple in his subconscious.
"HALT."
And with that, his vision blurred along with the remnant of control he had over his body.
He opened his eyes. Shockingly, the halo burning above him had not devoured the mattress to flames. Perhaps Mother had willed it only for the purpose of light and warmth.
He clutched his head while his free palm wiped the blood from his nose. The seemingly impossible pain had receded to a dull throbbing. The entire feeling had been a feat he could have simply halted with the Voice.
After that, he fixed his eyes on the still figure before him. He reached his palms toward the man's other palm, then carefully felt the ash in it.
"Crowflower ash. Only the Covenant would possess knowledge About this."
He stared demandingly at the unblinking eyes of the man before him.
"ANSWER ONLY IN THE TRUTH, TO EVERY INQUIRY FROM MY LIPS." He coughed out a little blood from his lips onto his palms at the very end of his words. The coldness in his head spread forward as he spat out the crimson slime from his mouth onto the mattress.
"How did you know beforehand I would be here at this very point in time?"
Unblinkingly, the man answered, "They told me. The Witch of Time—or so she called herself—she was the one who directed my ways. The very time the Kal-Xhalor would arrive in my abode."
"Why'd you heed her demands?" He rose from the mattress, then with his flesh, he birthed the sinister red flames in his palms.
"She seeks to free the La-Gessieb from the darkness and exorcise him in the faith of the Light, so he can bear the bright hope as prophesied."
"Well then, you have been fooled. The witches of The Covenant desire nothing but to make me into a religious dogma." He walked toward the counter, where he set the entirety of the crowflower stems ablaze.
But without smoke and ash, they were simply devoured by the dancing flames in his palms.
"They reached you through dreams, didn't they?"
"Yes, my lord."
"And they handed you this bunch of crowflower, stated generally to be extinct?"
He walked back toward the still figure of the man.
"Yes, my lord."
He walked past him toward the compacted projector, then, flicking the switch, shut it off with a silent blip. Tools like this were far beyond the reach of a normal laborer, which meant the Covenant must have delivered this also.
"You plan to turn your back in a revolution against the Blessed Lady in the lord's absence tomorrow. You seek to use weapons forged from crowflower." He crushed the projector in his palms.
"Who is to lead this revolution? The Covenant themselves or a spawn?"
"The might of the Blessed Lady is far beyond our mortal reach. Hence, the sisterhood, Merat-Benemont of the Covenant, seeks to send the Witch of Bronze and Fire as the spearhead in charge of this revolution—to free the Messiah."
He shook his head, then bit his lips. "You wish to kill Mother," he murmured more to himself. "Tell me, is this witch you speak of present in this bastion?"
The frozen man shook his head, slightly ruffling his tunic and headgear. "That I know nothing of. But she shall be present at the appointed time."
Worry not, Mother. I shall free you from that harrowing fate.
He willed the flame gone. Then the burnt-open flesh in his palms regenerated in a painless flash. Then he closed his eyes with a sigh.
"This revolution you speak of—what population headcount does it all account to?"
"A hundred and thirty-six, Kal-Xhalor. These are willing to die for your freedom."
He reached his palms toward the man's head, then patted it with a pained expression on his face.
"Your fervent belief has been toyed with by the whims of the Covenant's diabolical supremacy." He framed his face while looking deep into his lifeless blue eyes.
"I, Kal-Ed, am not held bound by any means." Then he receded his palms, with a much quieter tone; the fiery ambers of the gas lamp guttered wildly.
"THIS YOU SHALL DO: EVERY ONE OF THE REVOLUTIONARIES, TO THE VERY LAST, OLD AND YOUNG—YOU SHALL LET ME KNOW OF THEIR IDENTITIES AND THEIR WHEREABOUTS."
A faint drizzle of blood poured from his nose, but he ignored it. Wincing slightly, he moved on.
"THEN YOU SHALL GO TO THE KNIGHTS OF THE IMPERIUM. YOU SHALL GIVE A CONFESSION OF YOUR PLANS. THEN..." He pulled a dagger from his tunic; the faint silver glint glimmered dangerously in the light.
" YOU SHALL TAKE YOUR OWN LIFE." He pressed the dagger into the dazed man's palms, who clasped it tightly, as if his life depended on it.
"I shall do such, my lord. It will take a moment to draft your first request. I would need ink and paper, so the lord retains them better."
He turned away from the man held spellbound, then walked toward the crimson glow from the double moons.
"Do as you wish."
He shut his eyes, trying to calm the hammering in his skull under the crimson light of the moon.
How could he be called the Kal-Xhalor, a Messiah, when he failed in granting salvation to the one soul he cared about the most?
He narrowed his eyes on the twin moons staring from above.
Are you watching, Eid-Xhalor? I am acting in defiance of fate.