The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

As it turned out, Randidly didn’t have much to say on their walk to the chapel; he had just come because he hadn’t wanted to linger with the constantly fearful Superintendent Xeruth as the two of them waited for the funeral to start. Plus, some of the surrounding individuals had been staring at Randidly and whispering; apparently, his reputation preceded him. Therefore, he had come looking for Lady Iellaya.

The small chapel where the funeral would be held was a rustic building that could only barely claim to be a chapel based on the height of its ceilings. Thick, uncarved stone pillars held the roof about five meters above the heads of a normal humanoid. Which did seem to add a… reflective mood to the attendees. But even with that height, the hundred Commander rank military personnel and above, the family, and the various security guards meant that the entire thing would be filled to bursting with bodies.

Lady Iellaya was not looking forward to squeezing into a seat.

Even worse, the entirety of the chapel was shaped in the same hewn stone look of those grand pillars. The benches were squat grey pews. The altar was a stone table. The windows looked positively feeble between the heavy rectangles of stone that formed the walls. Everything was rough and weighty.

It spoke to a Commandant who valued austerity and solemnity over all else. It felt like the building itself was all the gravestone the deceased could ever desire.

No one was happy with the arrangements, and despite the fact that she had no control over the situation, Lady Iellaya had been receiving a steady stream of criticisms for the past week over the venue. Basically, she now hated this Outer Realm and its chapel more than anything else in the Nexus.

Aside, of course, from the Commandants who refused to promote her. But that was a work in progress.

So as they walked, Lady Iellaya didn’t try to hold back her feelings of frustration while speaking. Of the individuals that she knew, Randidly Ghosthound was one of the few which she trusted implicitly. Their conspiracy to overthrow the established order of the Nexus generated bound them together, even ignoring the fact that Randidly had remade her Class for her. So Lady Iellaya ranted wildly, talking about her fury toward the various attendees, before moving on to how difficult it had been, trying to protect Outer Realm Umt from being the target of any giant terrorist attack.

With the Nexus' situation being what it was, Lady Iellaya was inundated with threats of action from various dissatisfied groups. It was impossible to keep track of who could take advantage of the gathering of important individuals to send some meaningless message that would probably be misinterpreted anyway.

The sense of sympathy powerlessness Lady Iellaya felt as she studied these groups did not leave her particularly optimistic about Edraine’s plan at all. But at this point, she wasn’t going to back down.

This conversation carried them through most of the walk. They had headed outside of the downtown area along a dirt lane, now blessedly devoid of other soldiers, to ascend a small hill and arrive at the chapel. Along the lane were bare imitations of trees done in copper and brass, their sharp and angular branches ending in points sharp enough to impale flesh. Lady Iellaya finally ran out of steam as she considered these queer decorations on the way to the chapel.

Fucking creepy as hell. Lady Iellaya’s feathers twitched. I wonder how many birds have killed themselves on these branches...

Right when they were about to arrive at the chapel, Randidly Ghosthound spoke. “Well… we don’t think the resistance is very powerful right? At least, not powerful enough to seriously threaten all the Commandants and political figures here, right?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be blamed if those in power are inconvenienced, even the slightest bit,” Lady Iellaya said with a scowl. Just imagining the shitstorm she would need to endure if something happened…

“I just mean… it doesn’t seem likely to me that the funeral would be the target. You talk about wanting to send a message… but what’s stressing you out is that stolen Aether, right? Well, they didn’t try and send a message with that collection,” Randidly pointed out. He scratched the back of his neck like he felt slightly awkward speaking out. “They just stole a bunch of Aether. And now you’ve very obviously tightened security here. Fighting from a position of weakness… only a dumbass would attack the funeral right now. There are probably dozens of easier targets in the Nexus with so many elites concentrated here.”

Lady Iellaya shrugged. “Not my patrol, not my problem. Now let’s just get through this, shall we?”

******

Octavius Shrike woke up with the knowledge that something was very wrong with his situation. Reaching for his image netted him nothing. In addition, his body was entirely frozen. He couldn’t manage even the slightest movement.

His bedroom, as it usually was when he lay down for some restful meditation, was completely dark. The door and windows were sealed. But he could sense that he was not alone in the room. Two presences shifted lightly around his desk at the far end of the room, perusing through the copious amounts of scrolls and personal effects that Octavius maintained there.

For a second, Octavius felt a flash of panic. But then he quickly calmed himself. His initial fear was that this was the Nexus itself moving against him; perhaps someone had informed those in power about the alliance between himself, Edraine, Lady Iellaya, and Randidly Ghosthound to overthrow current Nexus leadership. But that feeling quickly passed as he realized that, despite his proclivity to record every portion of his life, he had forcefully restrained himself from noting anything incriminating down.

If they were looking for evidence, they would not find it here.

Especially here, in his home office. Only documents relating to the Seventh Cohort were present. Mostly, it was his personal observations about common elements present in the worlds that were passing through the Calamities and a second, hard copy of Aether harvests statistics in the Seventh Cohort. The former was the seed of a paper Octavius intended to eventually submit before the Eighth Cohort was formed and the latter was just a precaution.

However, that lack of panic quickly erupted back into panic as he blanked on what other forces would have the capability and the motivation to break into his room and restrain him. Confusion and darkness quickly whispered to those fears, helping them rapidly swell and overtake him. His image once more strained against the strange sense of isolation, but Octavius could manage to do exactly nothing.

I’m at their mercy. That chilling thought helped calm Octavius down.

The two presences noticed Octavius’ wakefulness as well, stopping in their examination and glancing at each other. They might very well be completely imperceivable with Octavius being sealed as he was, if not for some recent points about emotion Octavius had learned from Randidly Ghosthound. The two figures blended perfectly into the darkness and their images were perfectly controlled, but they allowed their emotions to flow rather freely.

Octavius managed to latch onto two distinct flavors of emotion in the darkness.

Cruelty seemed to grin as he looked over at Octavius. “He’s awake.”

Anxiety glanced at Cruelty in annoyance. Although Octavius couldn’t truly sense either of their movements, he liked to imagine that Cruelty shrugged before he replied to the pointed glance. “Why not talk? We have him. We have everything here we need. Let’s enjoy the success.”

“Finish the job first,” Anxiety replied curtly. “We need to make sure we get all the records he made of the Aether Harvests. Even if we are deep in the lower portion of the Nexus, the possibility of other forces noticing the array around the house isn’t zero. Stay focused.”

“Bah, why worry? The man is anal; he is so good at organization that its boringly easy to find all his documentation… ah, I suppose it’s possible that he might have another copy hidden somewhere. Hehe, can’t be too careful right?” Cruelty paused and notes of glee began to emerge from him. He walked over to Octavius’ bed and began to stand over him. The hanging darkness suddenly felt that much more solid.

Octavius tried to squirm but still couldn’t move at all. He marshaled his image, but that just made Cruelty laugh. “Heh. So, Mr. Shrike, please tell me… are you hiding another copy of these notes? I would really appreciate honesty. I would hate to drag this out.”

Even through the pitch darkness of the room, Octavius could sense something congealing in Cruelty’s hand. But just as Octavius began to sweat and that hand was being lowered toward his chest, Anxiety stomped over. “You cannot use Nether. We are Nexus extremists, exposing a corrupt official. How would we know how to utilize Nether? Just burn him out the old fashioned way.”

“Fine,” Cruelty mumbled. Inside, Octavius shivered. He wanted to open his mouth and tell them that he didn’t keep second records but his body was still completely paralyzed. His eyes widened and his pupils dilated, despite the darkness.

Please… Octavius said a silent prayer. Even the overlay System was isolated here; he couldn't even send a message

Somehow, Cruelty appeared to observe Octavius’ struggles. “Oh, I know you cannot answer me yet. But I usually find… giving you a taste of pain before I ask the questions clears up any misunderstandings. You will die tonight, Octavius Shrike. The only question is how clean your passage is going to be. Now… let me show you what ‘unclean’ feels like…”

For a split second, as Cruelty moved closer to Octavius, a portion of his Aether Architecture engaged. Which filled the frozen Cohort Overseer with both hope and foreboding. Hope because the architecture placed there by the System could come to his aid now and stop this insanity. Foreboding because if what Cruelty planned was enough to trigger the System’s implicit defenses, whatever he was up to was not a good thing.

Yet just as quickly as it had come, the Aether Architecture disengaged. Cruelty was prepared for this. Fear swallowed the brief hope that had been ignited in Octavius’s heart.

Cruelty’s hand touched Octavius’ chest. Although he could not move, his body slowly strained to arch his back and create space from the light touch. The pain arrived a second later, wet and clinging, spreading to engulf his entire body. The darkness became an abyss as Octavius felt this strange being begin grinding away at his image. Octavius’ eyes bulged. He wanted to vomit. In a very real way, the fabric of Octavius was being destroyed and he could do nothing about it.

His tongue began to swell and undulate just slightly. His organs were screaming.

The pain continued to rise within him in densely packed waves. His image couldn’t even marshall itself to fight. He just felt a horrible, sickening fear as he felt everything he had built in his time in the Nexus was erased. All his hard work came to naught. If he could have moved, Octavius would have trembled and sobbed. Although he would have been aghast at the possibility before tonight, Octavius would have even traded his beloved horn for the safety of his image.

They plan to make me weak, Octavius thought in desperate.

But another voice in his head just snickered. Doesn’t this prove you are already weak?

Eventually, the pain stopped. With its retreat, the restrains on Octavius’ body also dissolved. He reflexively tried to cough, but he was so weak and drained he just ended up drooling and convulsing lightly.

“Now, tell me again.” Cruelty said with glee. “Do you have other copies of these notes?”

A new emotion arrived at the scene. It seeped up through the floorboards and around the edges of the door. It was a horrible bloodlust so thick and hungry that it numbed Octavius just to sense it. He couldn’t believe that the other two didn’t notice.

Octavius' eyes rolled back into his head. But despite the fear, he couldn’t help but laugh. The air around them continued to change; ever exit was now sealed. “You… gentlemen are so... royally... fucked…”

“Perfect. Let’s keep going with messy than shall we?” Cruelty responded. Clearly, he was delighted that Octavius didn’t capitulate immediately. Yet as he moved to touch Octavius again, the mysterious figure stilled.

In the darkness, a beast yawned, grabbing the attention of both Cruelty and Anxiety. That bloodlust became an image that began to squeeze the room. The bed and the doorframe and Octavius’ desk began to tremble. Both the shadows were transfixed. Before they could figure out what was happening, whatever array they had prepared popped audibly.

A woman was suddenly standing in the middle of the room, next to Octavius’ bed. Although the gloom elsewhere remained impenetrable, she seemed to glow with an inner light. She grinned around at the two shades that stood transfixed at Edraine’s sudden presence among them. Although the Engraving had already been destroyed, Edraine’s image tightened in the air. “Your array is quite good. Took me a bit to intrude. And I would have likely missed it, had I not been looking for it. Just bad luck on your part, I suppose. But… good luck for me. I smell a rat in the Nexus.”

“Who are you?!?” Anxiety demanded. His voice was authoritative, but his emotions revealed how tenuous his control of his mental state was. “We are on official Xyrt Brigade business. If you interfere-”

Edraine shook her head and gestured. Suddenly the room was illuminated. Two furry humanoids looked at her with their mouths open in shock. “You aren’t military… ah, are you members of the Bestial Purity Association? Interesting. But considering that your leader is likely still hibernating…. Heh, who paid you off?”

The one who Octavius had thought about as cruelty, who had the beady eyes and greasy fur of a weasel, flipped sideways and rushed toward the door. The other man, a humanoid canine, dashed for the sealed windows. Both bounced off their intended exits with their claws glancing ineffectually off of the surfaces. A powerful barrier was up in the surrounding area.

Edraine cracked her knuckles. The right humorous of Cruelty, which formed the majority of the upper arm, cracked a split second later. The weasel man whimpered and fell to the ground.

Edraine’s gaze was cold. The being that had been afflicted with the suffocating embrace of a duplicated personality for a few thousand years barred her teeth. “You hurt my subordinate. You made me watch. Now it’s time for you repent.”

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