《So Fragile are we》


 Sewing black oats

    And so our story starts In a land like many others, under a sun like so many, with such a similar blue sky embracing it, walks a man. Much like the Heavens overhead, there is not much to differentiate him from so many others, without the context of the lands he walks.


    What does a long coat mean here? it is a uniform, not of a line soldier, no, this is not such a blessed and bountiful place to gild those who are sent to die in the trappings of their nation; Steel armor still reigns. Here a long coat is the trappings of an officer, a trainer, a leader; not nobility. All to make it easier to point out and find such an officer so they might tell those chosen to die where they might dig their graves that much easier.


    These long coats are made of thick hide. They are properly oiled to repel the rain, so much so their natural brown tones are taken to an almost black, likewise the thick fur lining them is made to protect against the chill of long vigils. We have spoken long enough on the coat, it tells us what we need to know about the man that wears it, what else? what other ordinary facet tells a story we''ve not heard.


    The man¡¯s hair being black, mostly straight, long in cut, is not terribly common in this land, all for a few north-lying villages. So that tells us he is of them, and given his northward Journey, it tells us he is headed home; headed home from a war. He carries himself with a long comfortable stride, burdened only with a single large tubular bag hefted on his back, and the barest hint of a pommel peeking out from his open coat.


    The weather is fair and chilly, but not enough to keep the birds from singing. At the same time, it''s not so warm that a day''s travel in it doesn''t make one yearn for a warm hearth to sit by at the end of it. Lovely weather all in all, because why should a tragedy be heralded by storm clouds, why should the heavens themself give omen to a single traveler? After all... isn''t the clear light of day the best medium in which to see horror laid bare?


    Approaching his home, there is no sign of what waits for him, no shattered wooden walls, no breached gate, no smoldering clouds of fire. It is a small village, all things said and done, and beyond those wooden walls, even a soul familiar with it would not expect to hear the hustle and bustle of livelihoods being made. However... there is some warning, some omen that he is not to rest next to a hearth with family and friends this night.


    Before he is even close enough to hail the vigilants minding the gate, the smell comes of old blood, bile, and rot. His face twisted, hand coming down to brush open his coat and find the familiar handle of his blade. It is a familiar smell, both at home and during the war he returns from. It is not enough to spur him into panic, approaching the gates he hails, but only silence retorts. He listened closely even for the sounds of a battle still ongoing, hearing nothing, only then does his blade free.


    Unlike his coat or his pedigree, it is an unusual blade. It is not so much the pattern; the long slightly curved slashing blade was a popular format across many cultures after all- but in its lavish if not ornate design, a pale purple gem sitting above the guardless blade. Where a solid unsharpened spine should be, was a crowning serration of gems of matching color.


    He ran to the gate and pulled on it to find it barred and with a curse under his breath, he kicked in one door on the familiar gate, exposing an old flaw; the beam holding it closed exposed through the smallest of gaps. Perhaps he could have run around to another gate, perhaps he could have tried to scale the wall only two men tall made of rough wood. He did not, he brought the blade down on the timber through the small gap, the blade bit deeper than one might expect a hand-a-half sword to in the wood, but still not enough to cleave it in a single stroke.


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    He breathed heavily after a few minutes of adrenaline-fueled labor with the beam cut, he pulled open the gate to see his home; a village home to a little over one hundred souls and corpses. His wanderings, shocked and numb as they might be, helped him recreate what happened.


    The north was a dangerous land, few past the age of ten were unfamiliar with handling a weapon regardless of gender, and few past fifteen possessed hands unblooded by beast or abomination. It was a wave, in the central roads from where he entered, it was mostly the corpses of the young and the old, and the pregnant... even they had a weapon in hand. The more able hands dead by doorways inside of buildings he... didn''t dare check. They held, as long as they could. Further up the northeastern side of town, the proper warriors started to show up... a fighting retreat was held, all sourced towards a chasm rent in the wooden wall.


    His wife was among them. No one wanted a woman that couldn''t defend their home whilst they were away... seeing her dead near the front lines... brought a bitter smile to his face. She didn''t die running or hiding at least. Knowing was its own sort of balm, even if it paled behind the cool numbness of shock.


    Even in the ruins of his life, there was work to do. The dead wouldn''t burn themself, or pray for themself either. In this work... this labor of finality, did he finally realize something was not right. A wave of abominations wiping out one of the northern villages? It happens... It''s tragic, but it happens. However, there were oaths and contracts... pacts to try and prevent this during times of war when their most able warriors are sent to be a officer on behalf of the Kingdom.


    For every Northern warrior sent to train and drill, and lead young men to death in the name of king and country, five soldiers were to be dispatched. Soldiers with steel armor, it was in fact one of the major ways the northern villages in their relative isolation kept their ties with the kingdom, as well as fend off inbreeding. It wasn''t uncommon for a soldier to retire to a village after finding a wife.


    But all of the bodies he gathered were familiar, no steel other than the heads of weapons, or the rare full steel sword. There should have been fifteen here; he and two others left, two others coaxed into staying and founding martial orders under the king... but there were none of the pact-bound soldiers in their place.That was almost double the number of bodies found at the breech missing.


    This simple revelation turned it from an unforeseen tragedy into a betrayal. How could one rage at the beasts and abominations that had more claim to this land than they, for staying here? they hungered, they fed. He hated them, certainly, but that was nothing new. What were a hundred more souls to an ongoing war of generations?


    The fresh betrayal however served to pry into the cracks of his emotional armor the numbness and shock left him. bile rose in his throat to match the rage and dismay that boiled in his heart. Under that ohh so familiar blue sky, that sun hanging like so many others warmly couched in the lightest of wisps of white clouds, was the silence broken. His cry of hatred and loss hung in the air as much as the smell of death loitering in what was once his home.


    In this Anguish, there was resonance; in his pain, there was community. There were a hundred whispers, all too familiar, unheard in the back of his mind. A hundred pleas for salvation, lingering like the stain of blood on the ground swirled around him... and then he spoke.


    Perhaps you are wondering why his evocations of words till now have not been detailed. It is simple. It is because of intent, communication, it is something any animal could do, why would you describe the tonality of a cat''s meow? Why would you detail the vibrato of a bear''s roar? Their existence alone communicates all that needs to be said.


    But an Oath? Those are context all of their own, and the oath he spoke could not be understood without its words.


    and so from pale trembling lips, did these bleed words onto reality.


    "I give you your last oath. the bearers of false promise shall perish. their families will be undone.


    Every last son and daughter of every bloodline that had a hand in this will die knowing of the broken oath that brought their end."


    sealing this oath by sliding his hand down the blade of his sword, and letting it join his friends and families. Coldness settled in him as he joined his fate to theirs. The maelstrom of lost and anguished souls stilling, closing in as they clung to him in acceptance, and as his blood remaining on that oddly ornate blade disappeared into the steel, he heard a voice. One he had heard before but dismissed.


    "We have much work to do."

 Tending bitter fields

    Our Young and as of yet nameless man has been busy for a few months, learning... learning many things, things I''m sure you all are dying to know, but we wouldn''t want you knowing too much too soon, would we? Needless to say, grief and rage are a hell of a motivator, our young man looking far less clear-eyed, and clean-shaven. Long hair that had once been pulled back neatly falling in loose black strands, a face once youthful and chiseled given a few lines in grief, and a generous, but as of yet short face of hair. Sitting at a table, in a solitary room, a sparse but well taken care of bed, that of an inn, most certainly. Before him on the table sat that blade laid out on its flat, its leather-wrapped steel handle contiguous with the blade it came from facing the young man''s left, and laid so it whispered


    "Come now, revenant that walks. The path to power is never so clean. Yours already is bloodied with all your friends and family. No matter the mastery of tongue you have gained, the funeral pyre you are building requires more than your rage and loss." A pause, whilst still our young Revenant sits there in silence, a stern troubled expression on his face accented well by the dark hair circling his mouth and chin. "What is a few hundred more souls, you are not facing a few measly brigands or a town guard. Corruption starts at the top. You think there will not be one capable of speaking the tongue, or some other mystery to combat you in the king''s own palace?'''' With this, those eyes once brown narrowed, the first stains already swirling around the iris, like reaching tendrils of corruption matching the same color of the gems on that blade. That however was his only response.


    A long silence continued between the two before finally, our young revenant spoke. "I do not disagree with your conclusion, blade, but you''ve taught me too much to think simple slaughter will be enough. To claim them after death, I must have made them mine in life. Their last thoughts must be of me, and patient as I am... Raising an army of Martyrs to my Oath will take too long." He said as he sat back. "and I do not think myself able to torture and ruin the innocent." A dark amused chuckle resounds through the link the two share.


    "Innocent, guilty, it doesn''t matter. They are just assurances, kindling; a message from you to those you''ve sworn Oath to that you have not forgotten nor abandoned them." A brief beat of silence between the two. "A song to comfort their loss, sung in blood and terror." Despite himself, our young revenant''s lips twisted into something resembling a smile at that. The idea appealed to him, and with that, he picked up the blade and stood. "Fine... then let us compose this song." He said as he walked out of the room into the night. Poetic or not, the night was the best time to do such dark deeds.


    And So our young Revenant found himself haunting the doorway to a house of ill repute, not a brothel per se... ohh no doubt, it reeked of sex, coin, and spirits. It was not open to the public, little more than the private domicile of what passed for organized crime in the large riverside village he found himself in. It paid taxes as a brothel, it was how the smugglers that operated it kept the local officials off of their back. Perhaps there were a few innocent souls inside, perhaps they are not the blackest souls one could find... but it would do.


    Opening the door and walking inside, all eyes turned to him; A stranger with a bare blade in hand, the silhouette of the officer''s long coat, stiff broad shoulders with those iron epaulets. Their first thought was not of hostility, nor of anger, it was of fear and survival. These were not hardened murderers, and few this close to the capital didn''t understand that a northern officer was just that. The Man behind the bar cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Sir, we were not prepared to serve one of the Kingdom''s Finest. If you give us a moment we''ll clear a table and gather some girls for you to choose from, yeah?" maybe they could take him after all, but few here didn''t have at least some family to call their own they''d rather not abandon. Victory? possible... but not without deaths they weren''t willing to trade for it. Not without the loss of limb that would cripple their ability to work. So why not pretend to be what they were on paper, at least for the night?


    those stained eyes of our young revenant closed, a brief mirthful smile coiling on those lips like the dying throes of a beheaded snake. "Apologies, I came here expecting many things.'''' He spoke softly, almost melodically as the Northern accent often came across in the common tongue. "Hospitality was not one of them." He continued as he closed the door behind him. Giving a soft sigh and a shake of his head in regret at the things he would do. "But, I will at least be honest with you." he said as he raised his head to look around the room, looking into the eyes, the faces of every soul in the room, from the quivering pleasure girls, the unsteady hands that have yet to be blooded by violence, and the rare few mastering a tension in their bodies as they prepared to fight. "None of what will happen to you is deserved, or earned. I''m sure it is little comfort, but you all deserve to know that nothing you have done, or could have done could have caused or prevented tonight. I brought this on you." He said letting the silent tension fill the air, simply standing in the doorway as he centered himself for what is to come.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    One man, a stocky, shorter man was not one to simply let this be, he stood pushing the girl off of him as he pulled the small field hatchet from his belt. "You''ll not find victims here." He growled before moving up to the Revenant, eyeing his relaxed stance, no trained warrior, but he''d been in a few scraps. Doing what he thought was best he darted in, opposite of the revenant''s sword arm, raising his hatchet to strike down at his head... only for the crack of bones and the sudden jarring feeling of his arm being thrown up from a strike he did not see, broken fingers dropping the blade as the revenant just stared at him, a subtle frown on that bearded face. "For your Bravery, I will not drag you into what else goes on this night." He said, not even letting the words sink in before the blade came up in a flash that saw his head removed.


    A cry from one of the girls filled the silence of the tense room, even as the revenant leaned down dipping his fingers in the quickly cooling blood. Rubbing it between his fingers as he returned his gaze to the rest of the room. A few of the smarter ones got up and tried to get to the back door. but even as they rushed, the revenant calmly spoke. His words not those of the common tongue, his voice not that of a mortal. The sound seemed to drip like blood from a wound, their meaning, even in the foreign tongue they spoke not, understood clearly.


    "And So does Blood call to Blood, as Darkness Calls to Silence." The shadows whimpered as he spoke.


    "I Speak the word None wish to hear." And the winds battering against the windows stilled as if in horror.


    "Of this Voiceless Grief, I give to you." Even the hearth stilled in silence, the flame crackling no more.


    "For this word is without Light. So I speak it to you; DESPAIR"


    And so all who heard it knew it. Crawling up their throats, robbing their muscles of strength. The overwhelming hopelessness, not of their own, but of all who had felt it before, calling the certainty to their minds... that there was no escape, no reprieve. Collapsed did all who were standing, as tears came to their eyes. Falling back in their seats, those who had not moved, wailing sobs taking their throats. With everyone so indisposed did our revenant get to work, clearing the center of the room of tables, and placing wooden chairs on their faces in a circle. One for each poor blameless soul in the room, the legs sharpened, Only then did he bring each over, sitting them on the floor against the upturned backs of the chairs, even as they begged, they bargained, were their arms impaled on the sharpened wooden legs, between the bones of the forearms each to prevent them from pulling free.


    Even as the spell did fade, did despair keep with them. The Monster that had beset them was clear from the very start, death was the only mercy they would receive. That there was no fault of their own, nor means in their possession that could avoid their fate tonight. None of them warriors. None of them soldiers, perhaps not honest folk, but simple folk all the same. With much of the risky work done, did our revenant turn to look at the souls he had condemned, one by one, over every face, the once stern, fearful, or anxious... all shared the same expression. they were lost. He gave a soft sigh as he shook his head, and spoke to his captive audience in that soft almost melodic northern accent of his. "I would apologize to you all, but if I was so consumed by regret this far into the night, I would never be able to finish what needs be done." He said with a momentary pause, giving a long soft inhale, and equally slow exhale as he walked to the one that would be the first tonight.


    "We have a song to compose, you and I. A dirge so great, that the very king will be struck by its melancholy and loss." He gripped the man''s chin, the kindly barman who had offered him hospitality despite not being welcome. "You will do me a favor and lend me your voice. All of you will." He said with a chilling finality as a knife was drawn. "You''ll have to forgive me, for this at least I am regretful... I am not a skilled torturer, this will take some time before your verse is finished."


    The Revenant was not a complete fool, there was a reason all of them were arranged so they were facing each other... so they could all see as he broke down, and eventually killed in this horrible fashion, a torture of its own. Without his skill in torture improving too much, though it did improve, whilst the first took hours to break to the point needed for this ritualist harvest of souls for our Revenant, the last several only took minutes. By the time dawn had come around, there was nothing left in this house of ill repute but death and blood.


    Our Revenant left the town, a somber mood over him. He had to admit a few things to himself in the wake of this Atrocity... the first of his but no doubt far from the last. He enjoyed it, a little. The Control, the power...  still it left him feeling cold. Colder than the death of all he knew. After all, not a single one of those souls deserved their fate. Not one given a real chance to avoid it. Even with their souls bound to him, fed to his resonance, knowing it was for a purpose it didn''t seem right. It wasn''t fair, it was uncouth, undeserving. Dirty. He would have to do better next time.


    Because there would be a next time. It would be even more shameful towards his victims tonight if they died for nothing, as undeserving as they were. He took their hope, their dreams, their lives, it was the absolute least he could do, but to make sure they had a purpose.

 Reaping the Blighted

    And so once more months did go on, and for our Kingdom, it was a good few months. What limited banditry assaulted travelers having all but disappeared. The Kingdom was largely at peace, prosperous, and other than at least one noteworthy incident, wisely ruled. Corruption limited as it was, likewise that had been disappearing from the lands. Winter was on its wane, once more the air was cool, but the Sun was warm, and sleeves were short. I mean... except for our dear Revenant, his style of dress has changed none. not for the depth of the winter, not for spring, and likely not for Summer.


    Unlike the last time we peeked in on him, he is more.. groomed. His facial hair still present in all of its black bristliness, but it is trimmed short. His hair still long and unbound, but at least groomed into passing neatness. And where is he? But sitting calmly in a chair in front of the currently vacant desk of the Capital. That blade that keeps him company rested across the desk, one leg folded over the other, a rare show of those thick leather-soled boots dangling clearly out from the shadows of his long coat.


    His eyes, softly luminous in that sickly shade of purple turned to the door as it opens, seeing a scribe of some sort, not the Captain himself, roll in exasperation. Not everything can go to plan, can it? His lips part to speak in that strange tongue, interrupting the scribe who did not expect such a dark countenance inside the captain''s office before she can speak


    "Wide-eyed, unsoiled, is the Lamb." and with those words the scribe''s face blanked, falling into a trance. Shaking his head with minor frustration he simply points to the far corner of the room. "Do be a kind girl, and stand quietly in the corner. Close your ears and hear nothing." He said in that melodic Northern accent of his and watched the woman do as she is bid... only to realize the door was still open. he clucked his tongue and stood with another shake of his head, not even able to even suggest she return to close it, so diligently was she not listening after all. he slowly closed the door before he returned to his seat and... resumed waiting.


    Not too much later did the captain finally enter his office, eyes first caught by the scribe waiting off in the corner, a perturbed confusion crossing his face. Once more, our revenant did interrupt before words could be said. "Do please close the door, and have a seat captain, don''t mind the scribe. we have things to discuss.'''' With that, the Captain''s gaze slid to the man darkening his office.. and to the ornate blade almost haphazardly laid across the desk as if it was lounging out and stretching its legs across his scrollwork and reports.


    The Captain, tall, fit, adorned in armor, plate probably though the tabard of his office obscured most everything but the chain shirt. He looked to the Revenant and narrowed his eyes, but seeing the coat, he assumed this was official business. So our Captain choked back whatever indignities he felt like addressing at this unannounced visit and moved around to his desk.. and sat. "So what brings you to me, The Royal Army doesn''t often interact with the Guard." He said curtly, and in response, our Revenant just smiled.


    "While I appreciate the Decorum, and it does suit you well, I am not in the habit of lying. I am not with the Royal Army, nor have I been for almost a year." The Revenant spoke as the door just.. closed on its own. "Our Business is a bit more, interpersonal I suppose." The Revenant spoke with a shrug, the Captain became warier... His eyes darted to the sword laid across his desk, Eliciting an amused exhale through the Revenant''s Nose. "Ohh I wouldn''t advise grabbing that blade, it''s terribly picky about who wields it."


    At that, the Captain Cleared his throat. "Then Tell me, what can I do for you, Citizen?" he said, adopting his authority like a mantle to try and push things along. This action only brought another quirked smile from our revenant. "Well you see, I seek information on your donors." the Revenant said as he stood, and walked over to the scribe, still standing in place with all the vacancy of livestock. He faced her, back to the Captain. Black-gloved hands reached up to sort through her hair as he spoke. "We''re going to try and make this as simple as can be, just a few simple rules." The Captain raised a brow at this, both agitation and Curiosity mounting on his expression, his tongue held as the Revenant continued. "Grab the blade, and there will be a new captain after they give up looking for you. Lie to me, and the Scribe pays for it, perhaps with a finger, perhaps an Eye.." he said tilting his face to the side as he examined her a bit closer. "No probably not an eye, would be a shame to ruin her face."


    The Captain did stand in response to this, grabbing his own blade without drawing it as the Revenant turned to face him finally. The Captain Spoke, Aggression in his tone, a challenge, an assertion of Dominance and authority. "And what makes you think you can threaten me in my own office, Theris Vagrant." The Revenant smiled, and just responded coolly. "Power." And for one moment, depending on who you asked, the revenant, or the captain and scribe.. it was but a second... or perhaps it was dozens of them, drawn out in terror as the room filled with whispers, hundreds of them. It was as if they were far enough away no words could be spoken, but tone and intention were clear as can be, some wrathful, some mournful, others manic and excited, some still plead for only the revenant knows what.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The Revenant took a moment to stroke the Scribe''s hair, to calm her. "Ohh ignore that, it was not meant for you." He said softly to the vacant woman who would not hear those words. Turning back to the captain he gave an almost apologetic smile before he spoke. "See, I understand you are largely dutiful, stalwart in your job, whilst I cannot speak of your personality... Most people have nothing but respect for you. I would hate to have to roll the die on what your replacement would be like. I simply want those that Tarnish your Honor." he said walking over to the Captain those few steps. "Is that really such a hateful thing?" He said looking into the Captain''s Eyes with those haunted orbs of his own. A shudder overcame the captain as he sat back, calming himself as the Revenant left him and walked back around the desk, to sit back in the chair.


    With a Sigh, the captain thought on those words, silence filling the room for a few long minutes before finally, he spoke. "These are who you are looking for..." and to this, The Revenant smiled, listened.. and afterward left. No need for bloodshed or Trauma here, now is there?


    <hr>


    Later that evening, not too long after the Sun finished its dance with the Aurora of dusk, Our Revenant was once more, sitting and waiting. This time at a tavern, a rather nice one that catered to the skilled tradesmen and women of the capital, merchants, and other people of means but without rank and clout to own land and have cooks and servants of their own. The Captain had taken less time than he was expecting, but then the man was rather reasonable after all. This time he was waiting on Two men of means, and unlike the Captain, they had been notified beforehand that it was happening.


    They Arrived, Northerners like our Revenant.. Or Therisians as you might have deduced from our Captain''s slur. Unlike the Revenant, their hair was pulled back in a series of subtle functional braids, and their long coats were made of colorful linens with a tabard over the front, showing their status as the Leaders of their Order. The mood was Somber, as news had reached them by now of the slaughter of their once home, and this was their first meeting with the only other person of their Village beside them to still be alive.


    They sat without a word, Nodding to the Revenant, who nodded to them in turn. A few solemn moments passed before the taller of the two spoke. "We heard what happened to our Home..." at this the Revenant sneered softly. "Ohh did you now, of how they sent not a single blade to honor the Oath?" the way they both recoiled at the words made it plain they had not. "We... No.. we had not." They said letting the silence linger once more. It was the Revenant who broke the Silence this time. "I called you, my brothers here, to figure out if you were to be added to My home''s Funeral pyre." The shorter of the two curled a lip before retorting "Our home." to which the Revenant snorted before replying. "No. No, it is not. You chose to live in these soft lands, if I hear of your two calling Yourselves Da''Rou I will remove every connection you have to this land so you will have nothing holding you back from going back to your birthplace and making good of such a claim." his voice had taken on an acidic edge by the last of those words.


    The tension sitting between the three before the shorter of the two spoke once more. ".. you are right of that. I apologize." He said, to which the Revenant nodded, The Taller called to a serving maid to bring them some drinks before turning back to the Table to speak. "So tell us, Brother, is that why you called us here, to tell us that?" he said, the tension still in his voice. "To threaten us? You''re not alone in that loss." the tall one spoke, trying to ease the tension. To this, the revenant inhaled softly and gave an exhale. "No. No, I came to tell you that you must disband your orders.. live here.. move to another village, it matters not. The Crown no doubt broke its Oath because... for the first time since making it, he had no incentive to do so." he said before waving to them both. "he has you, training soldiers.. wedding Locals, if I am not mistaken by those braids." he said with a dismissive disgust in his tone. the two looking... horrified at the realization, Guilt outweighed offense at his tone.


    The Drinks arrived, but none partook, sitting in brooding silence, even as the Revenant looked on wistfully at.. who knows what he saw with those changed eyes. "The Crown is to gain nothing from breaking their Oath." The Revenant spoke, and the two nodded, letting the thoughtful silence rule for a moment longer before the shorter spoke up once more. "There is no disagreement, but the crown will not just.. let us go." And to this Revenant smirked. "The Crown will have other concerns, you have my blessing to wait to disband your Orders till the Crown has been dealt with, which I will need no help from you both with." the Revenant said, turning to look at them before continuing. "All the same, should they come from you, cut them down. Any who would stand for the oath breakers are to die. if you die, I promise you those who hunted you will not have neither ancestors nor descendants living." he said before standing up. "I have things to do still, my once brothers. Drink and Remember."


    With that, he left them both to wander out into the night, no doubt to haunt the short remains of a few unfortunate lives he had very recently gotten the identities of just this very day from a Dutiful Captain.

 Harvest Festival part 1

    And so did spring and summer pass for our beloved Kingdom, in peace and prosperity. A few Murders here and there quietly swept under the rug, I mean no one misses the corrupt, and medicine is not so advanced, nor healing magics so available that ''natural causes'' didn''t claim at least a few every year. They were probably Political assassinations anyhow, Nothing to upset the common folk, nor Alarm those in possession of actual power.


    All of that how ever changed soon, with the cooling winds of Autumn driving through the lands. With them blew in our Revenant, into the household of a General. An Oath had been made, every last son and daughter of those who broke their oath to him and his was to die. Our Revenant however has no taste for killing children, nor the defenseless and blameless, but he knew of things with no such compunctions. These things, after all, killed everyone he ever knew, on that wind that brought Our Revenant in were four such abominations, and the Poetic nature of such a method was not lost on our Revenant.


    The Bespelled beasts were gruesome creatures, none exactly alike, not a natural breed as much as corruption made manifest in its myriad and horrific manners, there were similarities between them though; Quadrapedal, hairless things that may have been wolves or hounds at one point, where paws and slender calves would be there was instead hideous bulges of muscle and distorted elongated digits not quite capable of grasping things beyond soft flesh which the curved talons at the end could hook into. where efficient predatory maws were once, there was instead a gaping void of teeth, distorted unable to close entirely or properly, the only thing saving them from starvation being their tongues. Long, powerful, barbed, and hooked. Where tooth and jaw would fail to secure the mewling meat of their prey, the tongue would serve to hook, tear, and gather it into their gullets.


    Their Tales were withered things, not much of use for anything, but another matter of similarity between the four was they all had extra limbs, almost humanoid, if small and misbalanced. On one they sprouted from the back of the abomination, hanging like vestigial wings that seemingly gave up halfway through forming to become crude grasping arms barely able to reach past the creature''s maw. On another they hung from the rib cage of the creature, small curled as if grafted on as an afterthought. Another still had them hanging from its sides as if the creature tried to become a centipede, but aborted this mutation after the first set. The last had them coming from under its chin like someone had tried to recreate the mandibles of a predatory insect but only had twisted almost goblin-like arms left.


    These beasts, once slathering hungry abominations followed our revenant with a sort of mindless docility we have witnessed before, following their likewise silent master to the front door of the estate, powerful sorceries wrapped around all five of them making them unnoticeable, like an ugly truth one refused to acknowledge, like a homeless man dying on the side of the street.


    At the front door of the Estate, our Revenant and his pack paused, two simple sentries adorned in chain tabard and helm with spear and shield as their armaments. Our Revenant dropped the aversion, Letting the Guards notice him, an expressionless violet gaze falling onto them. Immediately the sleepy facade of the Sentries fell away, spears straightening, shields raising at the ready before one Spoke.


    "State your Business, the hour is late and you are not expected." the gruff and professional tone of the guard broking no patience for foolery or games. This brought a smile to our Revenant''s face, to see things being as they should be, even if it was in direct conflict with his goals. So many things he enjoyed seeing often were. Our Revenant did not dally on a response. "I have an Oath to fulfill, at least in part, this evening. You are not part of it, and I suggest you go gather reinforcements to deal with the aftermath of such." He spoke in his flowing Therisian accent, No hostility or hatred in it, leaving the Guards a little unsure how to deal with the... Guest? Intruder? still, falling back onto their training they stepped towards each other, turning to the side to present less of a target as their shields were held forward and the spears pointed forward towards the sole threat they could recognize.


    Our Revenant gave a deep sigh, shaking his head as he ran through his options to deal with the two as quietly and painlessly as possible. His eyes closed as he came to a decision, as ugly as it was, pressing his focus into the ongoing sorcery concealing the abominations from the sentries and everyone else. He expanded it, wrapping the mantle back around himself, and the sentries. Their inclusion precluded them from the effect, and their eyes widened as they beheld the pack of monsters already within lunging range around them. "Reality is a sad truth, and one cannot have everything they desire. I''m sorry, but my Oath''s conclusion has more weight than your peace or lack of suffering. Kill." with that last word spoken, the abominations moved to pounce on the guards, two for each, one going for the shield to pin, the other going for the legs to pull them to the ground.


    The Guard''s screaming would go heard, but quickly dismissed in the night. Our Revenant moved with his blade to end what would be a long death of being eaten alive as soon as he was sure they were as good as dead already. gesturing to the beasts to drag the bodies away he once more dropped pulled the spell from over himself and knocked on the door, waiting patiently even as the blooded and wounded beasts fed and recovered from their wounds with their unnatural vitality.


    Some moments later, the door was opened by the doorman or butler, honestly, our Revenant cared little which he was, not waiting for a greeting he pushed his way in, locking eyes with the older gentleman he pushed back to do so before he shook his head. "When they ask you why you were spared, you may inform them it is because you were not part of my Oath, nor did you stand a chance of impeding me." our revenant spoke in his normal calm, lyrical tone. The doorman sputtered a bit as he looked past him for the guards that were supposed to keep such ruffians from within. "You Should Leave, this is the house of the High General." The doorman said in protest, to which Our Revenant merely quipped. "I know." Then he pushed the doorman in further till they were clear of the narrow hallway that served the entrance. "Come, Hunt." he spoke to the abominations as they left their half-finished meals to pad into the estate.


    Our Revenant dropped the spell he had been holding entirely, looking at the doorman as he blanched at the sight of the bloodied horrors who quickly fanned out, their claws clicking up stairways, their vestigial hands finding door latches to open, letting them go about the night''s bloody business before he turned to the doorman once more. "flee, gather the Guard or the Army. No one wishes to see these things unleashed on the helpless citizens." he said before he strode into the Foyer proper and sat down on one of the couches used for Guests to wait. Quietly he listened


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Quietly he listened as the monsters he unleashed went about their bloody task, to every crash, thud, and scream. The Doorman stood still in shock and horror for a long moment before turning to do as the Revenant suggested.


    The Revenant brought the blade out, laying it across his lap as he sat back in silence, on occasion looking up towards the ceiling where a sound was sourced. before too long all sounds of violence ceased, the floor and walls serving to mute the sound of the abominations tearing at flesh he well knew was being rent. "Come." he spoke, and a few breaths later the bloodied hounds padded back to him, looking at them one and all for a moment as he tapped a finger along the side of That blade. "Bring me their bodies." he spoke, and the creatures did as he bid. dragging them, one and all into the foyer.


    The Revenant stood as he looked over them, some maids, one clearly the wife, a few younger children, one infant.. well one infant''s arm. closing his eyes once more and shaking his head as he approached the oldest male child, drew a knife, and searched for an unmauled stretch of flesh. finding one he pushed the blade in and then pulled it out, the prize he sought glistened along the steel in vibrant red. His lips parted as he once more spoke in that tongue that rippled through reality.


    "I seek. Blood Calls to blood, and so I call to all that resonates." with those words, the butchered corpses of mother and children shuddered.


    "Sing in this source, for distance is just the lie of mortal Means." And So the bodies that shuddered hummed then pitched into a higher droning tone.


    "Show me the spans of this web of life." he finished, the blood and corpses settled into still silence while he closed his eyes and focused.


    In the Darkness behind his eyes, The Revenant perceived a network, thin lines, small glowing orbs they connected to, some far away, clustered and faded as if diluted. relatives, most likely the mother''s family. One burned brightly nearby, to the southwest where the brothels were. Perhaps a son unaccounted for? another to track down all the same. The Last he perceived almost due north, the administrative center of the Capital. The Father. The General. He would be taken care of later. giving a soft sigh Our Revenant opened his eyes and turned to the monsters. "Stand still, wait. once Others come you are free, no longer bound to me." he said as he walked out the door, tracking the blood out the foyer as he passed the chewed remains of the guards, and headed down the street to find the lost son or daughter.. it mattered little, there was at least one more to die this night.


    <hr>


    Sometime later our Revenant approached not a brothel, as he figured, but a trading house. Quietly he approached the door and tried to enter it, and found the door locked. Impatience overcoming the revenant, his lips twisted into a grimace before parting to spit out a single word in that tongue... The Tongue.


    "Decay." and with that hateful word the metal rusted and pitted, the wood rotted more than two handspans out from the door latch. the tolerances of the locking mechanism ruined, and the wood weakened he pushed the door in, soft pops of wooden fibers giving out even as rust ground to dust. The immediate Foyer within was empty and dark, not open for business nor expecting guests nor customers, only the soft glow creeping through the hallway and corner betraying there was someone in the back rooms. The Revenant''s step carried him to this backroom, revealing a woman, not quite affected by the first signs of aging sat over a desk going over scrolls, and ledgers.


    The woman reacted to the sound of his footsteps, while involving the tedium of such accounting lent itself to latching onto distractions. So quickly did she stand to face the intruding Revenant, hands quickly going for a knife she kept for self-defense and held in such a stance and with such confidence, she was clearly trained on how to use it. "Out!" she barked. "We''ve Nothing for you here but steel." her harsh confident tone drew a smile from the Revenant, sad as it may be.


    Slowly the Revenant paced around the room, giving the woman an avenue to escape if she was quick enough. That she stood her ground still rather than take it brought a sour laugh from the Revenant before he finally spoke. "A shame you have to die." he said, his tone still musical with that Therisian accent, though notably somber. The woman wasted no time in retorting. "The Only one dying here is you if you don''t leave. Now Go." she hissed motioning towards the exit with her knife.


    Our Revenant''s smile only grew, melancholy as it was. He stopped circling her to place that blade down against the wall, pulling out the Knife still coated in her brother''s blood. "A lot of your kin have died tonight for no fault of their own." he said softly, the woman''s expression narrowing as tension built across her body, shifting a leg back to put herself in a proper fighting stance. Seeing little point in continuing to speak with the Revenant she held her tongue and simply stayed ready. "You will be amongst them." he continued keeping the distance between them. "But I have done too much butchery this night, and with Certainty, I will do more." he said in that somber lyrical tone of his. Finally adopting a simple knife fighting stance with the knife held in a reverse grip blade pointed forward, other hand raised to defend. "You will not be part of that. Come, die on your feet a warrior''s death." he said.


    A few tense moments of silence and inaction, the slightest bit of fear filling the woman, but it did not rule her. The Revenant taller than her and she knew better than to dive into his reach, so she waited for him to act. he did act without too much delay, closing the distance in a few long steps, pistoning his fist out in a blade-abetted hammer fist strike at her gut only for her to step to the side, bringing her blade forward in a flurry of stabs, the first of which the Revenant slapped aside, the following not delayed at all by this parry he stepped away from. a Tense trade where they gauged each other.


    Several more of these exchanges took place before the shade got his measure of the woman, as much as he admired her tight defensive form, her discipline to keep herself defended rather than take gambles on openings that might end poorly for her. her breathing already heavy, practiced and trained as she might be, she was a merchant by trade even if she was a warrior in spirit. Frowning he didn''t want her to die because she became sloppy from exhaustion, the revenant baited her into an exchange, his empty hand snapping up to grab her wrist and drive his blade into her chest, missing the heart he aimed for due to her twisting away what little she could. The Revenant''s Guard dropped for a moment as a second knife was retrieved from the folds of her dress and stabbed into his flank.


    He gave a hiss of pain but smiled all the same. "You would have made a Fine Therisian." he said twisting the knife in her lung causing her to seize with pain. his knife pulled out during this pause and pistoned in and out, not underestimating or disrespecting her by assuming she would die quick or easy. Only once the light faded from her eyes did he cease perforating her heart and lung and let her other hand drop from his grip and her body fall to the floor. He inhaled softly as he forced his mind to clear, hand coming down to the knife still in his flesh, the thick coat preventing it from getting deep enough to reach organs. he pulled it out and looked at it. "Well fought." he said before turning to walk into the night.


    There would be more killing this night, but such tired butchery does not a riveting tale make.