Shadow of the Abyss

"Send the bill to my house," Altair commanded, pocketing a few Seventh Circle Heartstones. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to sustain him for the next few nights, or so he hoped. Vacating River Mor, he had Tasha hunt down several more merchants that specialized in Mana Shards or Heartstones.

It was evening when businesses began to close one by one. By the time an hour had passed, weary men, women, and children flooded the streets, trying to make it home.

Altair observed from his inn, drinking a glass of wine on the terrace. It was a little late, and it was apparent that no one, including himself, wanted to make the three-hour trek back.

"My lord," Tasha approached her eyes seemingly on the horizon. "You're being watched."

"Am I?" Altair laughed. "That bumbling buffoon Dane alerted many people."

"Shall I kill him?"

"I have no idea how long I'll be in this realm, but it's best I don't mindlessly kill my merchants, wouldn't you say?" He took a sip of wine, sinking into his chair as the numbing fog of liquor began to cloud his mind.

Slowly, the flickers of shadow began to dwindle until there were only so many men and women coming and going. Altair simply watched as Tasha filled his glass.

Tasha was oddly silent. For some reason, she couldn't explain her Master's behavior. It had been like that ever since he awoke. There were moments where it seemed as if the entire world revolved around his whims; other times, he was as ignorant as any child. It scared her. The time he would gaze at her with those strange, eerie black eyes had been more terrifying than death, or so she believed.

"Master… can I ask you something?" Tasha asked, garnering her Master's attention. She flushed when she saw his empty eyes that seemed to peer through her very existence.

"Gremory… I'd like to meet her."

Tasha couldn't explain how he knew what she wanted to inquire. She nodded nonetheless. "I can set it up, Master."

"I'm curious why she is so interested in me," he lulled out, lifting his eyes to clusters of countless stars shrouding the night. It was a beautiful sight, yet it was as abhorrent as a two-cent whores cunt.

He couldn't mask his disgust, finding the star's mere existence to be a stain upon the Endless Night. Shadow writhe malevolently ever closer, whistling with movement, growing ever louder.

"Mas…"

"Lay waste to all who seek to harm me," he commanded lightly, forcing himself to stand. The wine had already gone to his head, clouding his thoughts as he stumbled into bed. "Leave there remains on the pavement for all the gods to see."

With a deep bow, a cruel grin kissed Tasha's lips. "As you command, my Lord." leaving the terrace door open for the cold air to billow through. Her Master always had a fondness for the cold. She vanished to begin her hunt.

Altair said nothing, placing a Heartstone in his mouth and swallowing it, allowing his body to refine the heavy dosage of raw Mana to unfold within his body. He shifted lightly on the bed, closing his eyes with a growing appreciation for the silence sleep brought.

"Ren would laugh at me," he muttered. "I always did hate sleep." With one last snicker, he closed his eyes, whispering the words, "Happy birthday, Ren."

***

That morning, Altair awoke clutching his head. A groan slipped through his lips when the scent of blood drew his attention. When he blinked, Tasha had filled his sights.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"You made a mess," Altair groaned.

"It would seem Nox is rather infamous. Nearly a hundred people tried to kill you last night."

If Altair was perturbed, he gave no sign of it. He lazily got to his feet, went to the bathhouse his room held, washed his face to stir him awake, and then walked onto the terries to glimpse the streets.

Dismembered bodies lay sprawled over the cobblestone, and it made it nearly impossible to determine how many people were slain. The city watch had closed the street down to investigate, but even they were getting nowhere. Be it the Mana or the Time Nodes, both were tarnished by Tasha's immense power.

Your next journey awaits at empire

"Did you learn who wanted to kill me?"

Tasha's tongue lulled out. "They each had made an Eternal Vow, which is shone as a tattoo on their tongue. Even if I tortured them, it would not matter."

"I assumed that affected their soul?"

"It would," Tasha affirmed. "At least a part of it, and that's the part we want."

Curiously, he stared down at the bloodbath Tasha had woven. He could easily learn the truth of the matter but saw no point in doing so. There would always be someone after his life. Just as he was sure, there were still people after his Father, who stood near the peak. Those after him were like cockroaches. It did little to kill one or two when there was scourge of them.

Darkly, he told himself there was more to come; before getting changed, he left to get breakfast, a strange traditional Akrem dish he could neither pronounce nor spell. It might have been delicious if it weren't poisonous. The poison did nothing, thanks to his Ashen blood, but infuriated him, leading to him slaughtering the entire kitchen staff.

It was an early butcher, but by the time he left the inn, he'd spotted more than a dozen glaring at him with killing intent.

"Master…' Alyssa appeared. "Can we kill them?"

With a stare that could send a chill down to the marrow, Altair glanced at one of the assassins before entering his carriage. "Do as you see fit. You are immortal." As Altair was about to inform the coachman to depart, a shout, followed by banging on his carriage door, alerted him.

"Lord Nox! Lord Nox! Please! Please! Aid us!"

It was Tasha who opened the door, giving the woman a long stare. She wasn't human, though she held the intelligence of one. She had pointed, cat-like ears, twitching incessantly. Near her bottom, her fluffy tail stood erect.

What made Altair frown was the Knights that had been sworn to protect him. Why hadn't they barred her entry? The thought came as quickly as it faded.

"What is it you want?' Tasha calmly asked.

Alyssa's fingers were twitching, ready to cut her down alongside the knights for their insolence.

"My name is Lona. A former—" Before she finished, the dagger she held in her dress flashed a beautiful radiance beneath the morning sun, though the blade did not travel far before Tasha caught it with a finger.

"It would seem Nox was a softie," Altair relented. He placed two fingers together and poked Lona in the forehead hard. In a moment, an entire lifetime flashed across his sea of consciousness of a young slave girl sold to her master. Lobotomized at an early age to remove dull, unnecessary sensations, she was taught the way of killing, seduction, and espionage.

By age ten, she had faced every type of mental and physical torture imaginable. Her own master had forced himself on her more times than she could count in her near hundred-fifty years of life as a reward and as a punishment.

Her Master, the Lord Baron, Finra Vadica, Vassel to house Nier, was enthralled by Lona the first time he saw her. He even went as far as to name her after his late wife, who had fallen to the plague. From the likeness, it was said that Lona was the split image of his late wife.

His taste aside, what Altair could not figure out was why the Baron, Nox's father's Vassel, wanted him dead. From what he could see, Lona was given the mission directly from him in a fit of rage when one of the servants informed him of his awakening.

"What a mess,' Altair breathed. "Break all her ligaments and tie her to the horses to be dragged. Coachman. We are heading to Baron Vadica's manner." Altair glanced at Tasha and said, "Have the captain come see me."

Beneath his Master's command, Captain Taren trotted toward his master; he was surprised to see Lona's teary face as her limbs were being smashed by Tasha. She screamed at the top of her lungs, the numbing sensation of pain she'd never felt before almost absent as her very soul felt like it was set ablaze. The pain shattered her.

Were it not for her broken limbs, she might have gorged her eyes out to alleviate the pain.

Taren closed his eyes, unable to look, when he heard his Master's bone-chilling voice. "That'll be your fate if this foolishness happens again, my Dear Captain. If a Ninth Circle like yourself can't spot an assassin, then you're of no use to me." He glanced at the other knights, turning to stare.

None of them were green. They had tasted the sting of battle. They had all killed at one point in time. For the lord they had all been sworn to protect, to be killed would be a type of shame none of them would be able to live through.

The captain nearly collapses off his horse, but Altair continued, "Even last night, where hundreds of people were slain. It was my maid who protected me while you all slept like children. This folly will not happen again. I need wolves ready to die for me, not cubs. This will be your last warning. Let's go."