The Zombie Knight

Chapter Two Hundred Three: 'Premonitions of a dark horizon...'

Nere Blackburn was not herself. She hadn't been for many years, if she were telling the complete truth of things, but she could feel it now more than ever.

The instability in her thoughts. The erratic emotions that gripped her. Anxiety. Sorrow. But perhaps most of all, fear.

Fear of what? She could hardly tell anymore. Of everything, perhaps. Of all outcomes. All possibilities.

Ismael, her husband of forty years, was gone. Slain by the Salesman of Death. Ibai, her darling son, was missing. Taken by the Monster of the East.

Her two greatest ties to this world. Severed.

She knew she was broken now. She had known it for some time. These events only made it that much more clear to her.

Because more than anything, she deserved this.

She had never believed in the water god before, but now she did. This was divine punishment, surely.

She hadn’t left her room in several days now. The other Blackburns, the kind and pure souls that they were, did nothing but try to help her, to provide her with any manner of assistance she required.

But they didn’t know that their kindness, their perfection, hurt her now more than any cruelty she could think of.

If they knew the truth, they would hate her. They would turn. All that kindness would turn to wrath--and rightly so.

Look at all she had wrought.

Now, not only was her own family shattered beyond repair, but so many others were caught in the grip of the madness that she had begun so many years ago.

With her weakness.

Her love for Ismael had grown to such extremes as she had never even dreamt possible, far beyond what it was even when they were newly married. It had grown so strong, in fact, that the thought of ever living without him had become a thing more terrible to her than anything else. She could have lost anything else. Just not him. Not after all he had done. She would have gladly died in his stead, if she only been given the chance.

But there had been a time when she hated him.

It was the height of youthful folly. Understandable, perhaps, if one were to characterize the emotions that had motivated her actions as those of the unwise or the unlearnt, but she dared not even give herself that meagerest easing of her conscience.

In her anger, in her disappointment, in her yearning to become a different person, she had been unfaithful to her husband.

And the result of that was Ibai. An aberration. A thing worthy of only death.

In truth, after that first incident with the dead cat, when it became clear that Parson Milies' warning had been the truth, she might have gone through with the killing of her only child if not for Ismael--if he hadn’t been the greatest man she had ever known.

And to think. It had worked.

Ismael had actually succeeded in changing Ibai’s nature.

She took no credit in that for herself. She knew it beyond doubt--that had all been her husband’s doing. Someone as pathetic as her could not have been of any use to anyone. It was only too obvious where the goodness in Ibai had truly come from, even if he didn't have Ismael's blood in him.

Just thinking about it now made her want to start crying again. She might’ve allowed herself to, if she were alone, but her reaper, Sentsia, was present. And talking to her. As usual.

Nere was hardly listening, though. The reaper’s moral pontifications and words of encouragement were without end.

Even though Sentsia knew the truth, too. The one person who should have been able to genuinely understand how worthless she was--but Sentsia didn’t. Even her own reaper was too good for her, Nere knew.

How cruel Lhutwë was. To have her grow to love her family so much after betraying them so utterly, after having thought herself above them for so long.

When she had first met Ismael, the unimpressive nobleman from the backwaters of Luzo, she had thought him a puppy in the guise of a man. So innocent and meek. Not at all domineering like many of the other men of the Wetlands whom she had met.

She, on the other hand, had been so full of fire and ambition. Even from the beginning, she felt that she could wrap this silly, awkward man around her finger and get him to do whatever she wanted.

And she’d been right.

It had been so easy. A few teasing looks here. A few flirtatious words there. Ismael hadn’t known what to do. Obviously, he hadn’t had much experience with women before. In no time at all, he became so eager to please her.

The rest of his family probably would have been more wary of her if they weren’t in complete tatters. They were in a state of mourning, all of them. At the time, she didn’t know what exactly had happened to them, only that many were killed during some horrible conflict.

She could have inquired further. She should have. She didn’t.

It didn’t matter to her. Looking back, she wanted to think that if she had known more at that time, she would have acted differently, not tried to take advantage of Ismael the way she did, but that was probably just wishful thinking, she knew.

She was so selfish back then. Blind to the problems of others unless there was some way she could benefit from it.

Ismael was a means to an end. Nothing more.

The thought never even occurred to her that she might be the same.

Her mysterious benefactor had remained so for far too long. She had never given proper thought to why someone would just start mailing her money and instructions. She’d questioned it, certainly, but being in such dire need at the time, in a state of constant financial misery, she had been only too happy to take the help, wherever it came from.

When the day finally came that her benefactor revealed his true identity to her, the shock alone nearly destroyed her then and there.

Because it had occurred in two separate steps.

The first time he revealed himself to her, she had thought that everything was becoming clear, that this man was someone who truly loved her and cared for her--and most importantly of all, someone who was worthy of her. Obviously, she could never settle for a puppy like Ismael. No. This man, this “Bas” as he called himself at the time, was the real love of her life. And together, they would conquer the world together.

Why had she been so lucky? Why had he chosen her out of all the other girls in the world? Well, because she was just that great, of course. What need was there to even humor any other notion?

Oh, how he was able to inflate her ego. To make her think she was deserving of so much more than she really was. To make her think that she, a girl whom he had raised up from nothing, was somehow above all these lords and ladies of Sair.

Looking back on it now, on how foolish she had been, she almost wanted to laugh. She must have been insane. That seemed the only explanation to her now.

But the charm of that man... of all people, how could he have wielded such charm? She had prided herself on seeing through people, manipulating them to her will. So why hadn’t she been able to see through his lies? Just because she hadn’t known his true name at the time? Had she really been that blind?

Perhaps if she had joined the Vanguard sooner, she might have seen his face before on a wanted poster. Or heard a description of him, maybe. Something.

No doubt, that was why he had instructed her to keep putting off joining. And that must’ve also been why he decided to reveal himself as “Bas” when he did. He would have been unable to do so if he had waited much longer.

It was just so absurd. How could she have ever fallen in love with someone like the Mad Demon?

She must have been mad to have not thought anything was strange about him, but even all these years later, her memory of that night was still so clear. He had been so warm. So understanding. So ready to listen and admire and be the most wonderful human being she had ever met in her life.

He was everything she could have ever wanted in a man and more. That secret tryst in overgrown wilds of Steccat had been one of the best experiences she’d ever had.

And now it was the worst. Her most enduring nightmare.

The day she had first seen Morgunov’s face listed among the others of the Vanguard’s most wanted, everything had begun to crumble. Like the ground itself had somehow been ripped out from under her.

It should have come as no surprise to her then that “Bas” never contacted her again, but for some reason, being the stupid girl that she was, she hadn’t expected that, either.

And then, of course, she discovered the pregnancy.

Ismael had been so happy. Seeing him that way broke her heart in ways she never thought possible. Such a betrayal of such a perfect man.

She nearly lost her mind completely then. If not for Sentsia, she would have. It was all a fog, but she felt certain, nonetheless. Sentsia was the only thing that had gotten her through that pregnancy.

And Ibai. Sweet, darling Ibai.

She’d thought him a monster for so long, but even he proved to be a better person than her in the end. Far, far better.

She didn’t know how it was possible to be so proud and so sad at the same time.

If there was any sliver of hope or salvation to be found through all of this, it was him. It was Ibai.

Nere had to imagine that Ibai’s existence had been Morgunov’s goal all along. He’d wanted to create an aberration. One of the very first, seemingly, but if Morgunov was hoping for a monster of madness like himself, then he would be sorely mistaken.

Nere had no idea why Morgunov had never come for him. She had feared that every single day since he was born. But whatever the reason was, she thanked Lhutwë for it. She only prayed now that Ibai would be able to remain safe. Somehow. Please.

If there was any goodness left in the world, that had to be so.

But.

That was the real question for her at this point, wasn’t it?

Was there any goodness left in the world? Not for her, surely. She readily acknowledged that. She had no future now. But what about everyone else? Was there any goodness left for them, at least?

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She wanted to think so. In the few times she had actually gone outside and seen the other Rainlords bustling about this underground fortress, this Warrenhold, she had seen the light of hope in their eyes. In their postures. In their intent.

They saw it. They saw goodness in the world. Somewhere.

Were they wrong? Were they just fooling themselves until the inevitable found them, as it had found her?

She honestly did not know.

What was the point anymore? Everything was so meaningless now.

But.

But perhaps...

Perhaps if everything was meaningless, then... perhaps she could do something that had never dared do before.

Perhaps she could tell someone the truth. Perhaps she could just... confess.

Could it really be that simple? All these years, that had seemed like a thing so utterly impossible that it hardly even bore thinking about.

But now...?

Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe nothing did.

And she was beginning to wonder what might come of it.

As she sat there in the corner of her room, thinking over the idea more and more, Nere began to rock back and forth.

Yes.

Yes, perhaps telling someone the full truth of things would be for the best. Would it ease her conscience? Perhaps not. But it was a step forward, wasn’t it? A step somewhere, at least? As opposed to just being lost in this dark fog forever? And if it didn’t matter anymore, why should she be afraid to say anything? Because everyone would shun her? Because they would hate her?

She wanted them to. She deserved it. For too long, her sins had remained unknown, unpunished.

Maybe Sentsia would even release her soul.

She had never contemplated asking Sentsia to do that before. Why not? Perhaps it was selfishness. She had cared for her own life too much. But what need was there to care now? What was there left to live for?

All these years, she had never really understood those stories about servants asking their reapers to release them. And with as often as she had heard such tales, it seemed a fairly common occurrence. How could that be, she’d wondered?

Now she knew. Or rather, she had some semblance of knowing, at least. Perhaps it was presumptuous at this juncture to assume she could know anything of value to anyone, but she felt an understanding like she never had before.

A silent epiphany.

All those servants who asked to be released--they knew then what she had only just now realized.

In the future lay only darkness.

It was all, ultimately, without hope.

Looking back, it seemed somehow absurd that she had ever had hope to begin with. Hope for what? To what end?

Which meant that, for her, there was really only one thing left to do at this point.

But who should she tell? Well, everyone, perhaps. But who would be the best person to reveal this horrific secret to first?

Now there was a dilemma.

The best person to tell. Or the worst. Those two concepts seemed intertwined to her now.

Well, the first person who came to mind was Sentsia, of course. Being Nere’s reaper, it only made sense to tell her everything first.

But what if Sentsia decided to simply release her soul then and there? Wouldn’t that be too quick an end to her suffering? Sentsia probably would never do such a thing. She was too gentle and understanding.

But Nere still didn’t want to take that risk. And more than likely, it just wouldn’t be punishing enough. Sentsia might even try to comfort her, for some reason, and that was the absolute last thing that Nere wanted now.

No, she needed to pick someone who would hate her. Truly. Someone who would take vengeance on her.

And the more she thought about it, the more she could think of no better candidate than the Lord Zeff Elroy.

Of all people, his hatred for her would surely burn the most fiercely. He was one who sought vengeance. And he wouldn’t make it quick, would he? He would make sure she paid for what she’d done.

Oh, but he probably wouldn’t care all that much about Morgunov or Ibai, would he? Comparatively, at least. No, the thing that would make him hate her the most was a bit different, wasn’t it?

Yes. He still didn’t know about the role House Blackburn had played in the Elroy Massacre all those years ago. It had been Abolish’s work, of course, but the Blackburns had let them into the country. Unwittingly, perhaps, but since when did ignorance alleviate one of responsibility?

She nodded to herself as she decided. Yes. She could tell him about that.

Finally, she could see the path forward.

Someone was talking to her. Oh, yes. Sentsia was still there, wasn’t she?

‘--important to attend these things,’ she was saying. ‘It will do the rest of the family good to see you there. They could use a morale boost, right now.’

Morale? What was she talking about?

Oh, yes, there was some sort of family gathering today. Something to do with… a birthday?

Yes, one of the children was turning thirteen today, and the family was celebrating.

How nice.

She might have liked to go to such an event if she wasn’t sure that she would just bring the mood down. If it was to be a celebration, then her presence would ruin it for everyone.

Telling Sentsia that truth would probably just upset the reaper, however. Nere decided to ignore the subject entirely.

“I would like to speak with Zeff Elroy,” said Nere.

The reaper just stared at her.

To her eyes, Sentsia had the appearance of a dim ball of light with a face vaguely outlined in ethereal fire that flickered silently. A fading star of sorts.

“What?” said Nere.

‘You don’t say a word to me in days. You don’t speak to the therapist. You don’t talk to ANYONE. And then you say THAT? Of all things?’

Why was she upset? Nere didn’t know. “I wish to speak with Zeff Elroy,” she said again.

‘No.’

Nere blinked. “Why not? You haven’t even asked my reason.”

‘I don’t need to. The answer is no.’ The reaper hovered closer.

“I wish to speak to him,” was all Nere could think to say. She hadn’t expected Sentsia to refuse her. Sentsia had almost never refused her in all the time they’d known each other, which extended all the way back to when her engagement to Ismael had been formalized.

‘There is not a chance in lakefire that I will let you to talk to that man, right now.’

“Why not?”

‘Don’t play dumb.’ The reaper’s echoing tone was perhaps colder than Nere had ever heard it before ‘Oh, but I guess you wouldn’t need to “play,” now would you?’

Nere was trying to understand and failing. “What do you mean?”

‘Forget it. You are in no condition to be talking to anyone outside the family. Not right now, at least. Once you’ve had time to properly grieve and get your mind in order, then we can revisit this conversation.’

Nere didn’t know what to say. No one outside the family?

Hmm.

Well, perhaps Melchor would do, then. In fact, now that she was thinking about it, he might be even better. Melchor was a man who had sought vengeance for House Blackburn many years ago--and found it.

That had happened after what came to be known as the Culling at Denya.

Nere had only learned of that horrible incident long after the fact, but her understanding was that it had been a Vanguardian stealth operation that went terribly awry. The Vanguardians were betrayed, their locations revealed, and Abolish turned what should have been an ambush against them into a slaughter in their favor.

Nere had occasionally wondered if Darktide’s subsequent terrorizing of Abolish had in some way impacted Morgunov’s decision to use her as a tool against House Blackburn the way he did, but if there was a connection there, she had never been able to find it. Surely, if the Mad Demon had wanted to destroy the Blackburns, he would have been more direct about it and not resorted to such subterfuge, no?

Well, she supposed that it hardly mattered now, anyway.

“In that case,” said Nere, “I would like to talk to Melchor.”

Sentsia just stared at her again.

Nere waited, shifting uncomfortably in her tall chair. The reaper seemed quite different today, and Nere found it very unsettling.

‘Why do you want to talk to Melchor?’ said Sentsia.

Should she lie? Once upon a time, she had been quite a skillful liar, but here and now, with so much uncertainty roiling around inside her, she didn’t know if she could muster up even the slightest bit of cunning. “What does it matter? He would not be unwilling to speak to me, would he? I wish to see him. To hear his voice.”

‘No.’ Sentsia’s tone did not imply that her mind could be changed.

Nere wanted to ask why again, but she was afraid to now. What was Sentsia thinking? How much did she really know?

‘You seem confused,’ the reaper said. ‘As you would. You stupid girl. Even after all this time, you STILL haven’t learned to see beyond yourself, your own pain, your own worry. I can’t believe I ever thought you could change.’

Nere’s eyes were wide as she listened. She could feel tears welling up already. “What are you saying? How can you--?”

‘Oh, shut your mouth, you lying whore. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep trying to support you in spite of everything. I can’t keep trying to bring out the best in you. There’s nothing left to bring, is there? You are little more than an empty shell now, aren’t you?’

Nere had no words. Was this even the same reaper she had known all these years?

‘If only I had learned the truth sooner,’ said Sentsia. ‘I would have revealed your infidelity forthwith, and you would have been tossed aside by House Blackburn. And Ismael might have found a woman who was truly worthy of him. But no. For whatever reason, Lhutwë deigned not to allow that justice to come to pass, and now, here we are instead. Ismael, that wonderful boy, is dead. And I must continue to endure YOU.’

Nere could only listen. The reaper was far from done.

‘Honestly, why do you look so surprised?’ said Sentsia, still in the echo of privacy. ‘Tell me. Do you remember when we first harnessed pan-moc, you and I? Hmm?’

Nere managed to shake her head.

‘No. You must. Do you remember how it nearly killed us both? Do you have any idea why that might have been? No? Of course you don’t.’ The reaper sighed. ‘That was precisely the time when I learned of what you had done. When I probed our shared minds. I couldn’t believe what I found. I didn’t WANT to believe it. The shock was so great, in fact, that I nearly lost control of the hyper-state and allowed it to kill us both.’ She paused for a chuckle. ‘Perhaps I should have.’

Nere was trembling. She couldn’t look at the reaper anymore.

‘I want you to think about the decision that I was faced with at that time, Nere. Really think about it. Ibai was already a teenager. Melchor had returned to us. He was his old self again. House Blackburn was more unified than it had been in generations. And this knowledge that I had just acquired would tear all of that apart in an instant. Can you imagine what was going through my mind then? Hmm?’

Nere clutched her head with both hands as if to shield herself from Sentsia’s words, but there was no stopping them.

‘Naively, I thought there was hope,’ Sentsia went on, ‘because you really DID come to love Ismael and Ibai and everyone else. I could see that in you as well. I saw it. But I was a fool. Something like this was always going to happen.’

Nere asked the only question that she could think of. ‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner?’

‘To what end? To shame you? What purpose would that have served, exactly?’

‘I… I don’t…’

‘I have always tried to be above such base instincts,’ said Sentsia. ‘But damn if it doesn’t feel good now. Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I should have done this a long time ago.’

Nere just shut her eyes and hung her head. Arguing was fruitless, she felt. She deserved all of this and more.

‘I’ve never been a believer in punishment, really,’ said Sentsia. ‘I always thought that it was better to try to “rehabilitate” someone than to “punish” them. The desire to rehabilitate comes from a place of empathy. It’s “nicer.” While the desire to punish comes from a place of, arguably, anger. It’s more brutalistic. It felt like something that only the unenlightened person would pursue.

‘But thanks to you, I see now that I was wrong. I was too confident in my sense of moral superiority. I think, perhaps, my lack of awareness in this regard may have only served to make this situation worse. If I had thought to punish you for your actions sooner, to make you seek repentance as Lhutwë would want, then perhaps we could have begun on a slow road to betterment. Somehow.

‘Now, of course, it is far too late for that. You are too far gone. Or perhaps I am. The hatred I feel for you is unlike any I have ever known in the last two thousand years. And that, I must say, is quite an accomplishment.’

Nere didn’t move. ‘Then just release me…’

‘Ah, yes. I am considering it. This is what you desire?’

She chanced a frail look at Sentsia. ‘Yes…’

‘You don’t wish to find a way to atone for your sins?’

Nere sat on that idea for a time. It had crossed her mind before, briefly, but it seemed so utterly impossible that she hadn’t really given it much consideration at all. ‘How would I be able to do that?’

‘By helping me bring House Blackburn into a new, golden era.’

Nere’s head reared back a little.

‘You may think your life is in ruins,’ said Sentsia, moving even closer still, ‘and you may think that there is no point in living anymore, no future for you to look forward to. And you may be right. For you. But for the family? For all of House Blackburn? We are far from defeated.’

Was she right? Nere had a hard time imagining that she could be, but Sentsia did have two thousand years of experience and knowledge to pull from.

‘You will likely find it difficult to believe in your current state of mind,’ the reaper continued, ‘but allow me to remind you that this family has endured worse circumstances than this in the past. You know our history. Our struggles. Even if you are ready to roll over and die, your kin--those who still consider you their family--are perfectly capable of seeing the dawn of a new and even more glorious age.

‘But if you ever wish to see such a future, then you must first be punished. And as I am the only who knows the depths of your crimes, I must be the one to deal it out to you.’ The reaper latched on to her arm and stayed there.

Nere did not resist. She could only think to ask one thing. ‘If you do not intend to release my soul, then what do you intend to do?’

‘I will have you abandon yourself.’

‘W-what do you mean?’

‘Any notions of your own well-being, your own desires--you will discard them. On the outside, you will pretend that nothing has changed, that you are still the same Nere that the family knows and cares for. But in private, between the two of us, you will submit to my will. Entirely.’

Again, Nere found herself without words.

‘You are my servant no longer. Now, you are my slave.’

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