Chapter 664: Pain [FIXING INCORRECT POSTING] |
“You’ll get nothing from me,” the demon snarled. His baleful eyes burned up at Moxie, flooded to their brim with molten fury. The gesture was somewhat lessened by the fact that he was completely bound by vines and entirely unable to move. “We cannot be stopped.”
“That is an excessively ironic statement,” Moxie said. “You already were stopped. You lost a fight to my window. Your companion is already dead. I barely even came into the equation. The only thing about you that has anything remotely impressive to be gleaned from it is your resilience — and the only thing that’s getting you is a longer death. You fight for nothing.”
“Blind lamb,” the demon tried to spit, but his throat was so dry that his feeble attempt couldn’t even make it past his lips. “You know nothing!”
Moxie’s jaw clenched in anger. This demon was worthless. He didn’t matter — but the information he had did. From what she’d managed to glean from the idiot so far, he and his companion hadn’t been working alone.
They were part of a group. One that thought Noah was some sort of false prophet of sorts… and one that was incredibly determined to get rid of him.
“Me not knowing anything is entirely your fault,” Moxie said. “And I’ve lost my patience. Tell me who you’re with. I want to know what group is so pathetic that their assassins couldn’t beat a happy little flower.”
Something passed behind the demon’s eyes. He tried to thrash against Moxie’s bindings again, but it was fruitless. He was well and truly bound. Moxie hadn’t taken any chances with her work. This demon was too important for her to allow him to escape.
Not alive, at least.
“You will quail in fear when the truth is known to all,” the demon hissed. “Your time will come, lamb. And when it does, nothing will be able to save you. You will watch very existence crumble around you and be helpless to stop it.”
“What, because of whatever group you’re in?” Moxie asked, arching an eyebrow. “You can’t be serious. You’re pathetic. I don’t even mean that as a personal insult. Even a random mage would have been able to take you out. A group is only worth as much as the sum of its parts. If it’s working with worthless demons like you—”
“I am nothing but a supplicant,” the demon whispered, his words trembling in zealotry. “One who stands on the outermost reaches after witnessing the truth.”
“You — wait.” Moxie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not even part of the group.”
The demon hesitated for a moment before he spoke again. “I am—”
“You just said it,” Moxie said, pressing on the demon’s unease. He was off balance, which meant she was onto something. “You’re on the edge looking in, aren’t you? What, is this some sort of joining ritual? A way to prove that you’re worthy to join? Do they even know who you are?”
“They know me! Our orders were all given directly to us by the Greaters. Though some of us may fail, the others will not. The Herald tries us all. Those who are successful will live amongst the truth instead of rotting in the filth with the blind lambs.”
Others? Plural? That doesn’t sound like the way he’d refer to the demon that came with him.
“There’s more of you?” Moxie asked.
The demon let out a hacking cough. “It doesn’t matter anymore, harlot. Even when my life ceases, I will be ferried back to the land of truth in the shield of the Herald’s gaze. This form is nothing but a prison for my soul — and my soul is safe from you.”
“What goal do you have? Enough with this False Herald bullshit,” Moxie snarled. “What are the other demons doing?”
“There’s nothing you can do,” the demon said, his eyes glistening with fanaticism. “It’s far too late. The others’ missions are surely done by now. My purpose is complete. They have already found what they were seeking. You are not the only one with access to the False Herald.”
Moxie froze. The crazed demons hadn’t just come for her room. If they knew who she was… then they knew who the others were as well. The other teachers. The students. Everyone. She wasn’t the only one that the crazed demons had tried to attack.
“Shit,” Moxie breathed, jerking to her feet.
“That’s right,” the demon said through a raspy laugh. “But you’re already too—”
Moxie clenched her fist. The vines binding the demon jerked taut and his sentence vanished in a crunching squelch as his body was turned to pulp. Her vines drained his flesh, drinking everything that made him up until his body was no more.
She didn’t wait to see his fate, nor did she say anything about how she didn’t get a single scrap of energy from killing either of the two demons. There was a certain suspicious book on her back that was very likely responsible for that — but she didn’t have time to waste words on it.
Moxie dashed from her room and a swathe of vines slithered in her wake, a hunger for blood lingering in their thorns.
***
Yoru pursed her lips. She’d taken to doing more of that recently. On some subconscious level, she suspected it was because she no longer had hands or arms to work with. Moving something other than her legs felt like it gave some sense of control back.
Perhaps that wasn’t the action of someone her Rank, but she really didn’t care. Fitting some perceived image was what someone without true power worried themselves with. She was beyond such things — and it wasn’t like anyone could tell what she was doing when she wore her mask.
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Yoru craned her head back to stare up at the night sky as a cold wind curled past the top of the transport cannon. She sat at the edge of the roof, legs dangling over the edge, and stared into the night sky.
The moon shimmered in a sea of stars far above, like the eye of a god peering down at her.
How odd, that there is a moon both in the Damned Plains and here. Is it the same one, cutting through the dimensions in its absolute existence? Or have both locations been graced with a moon of their own?
It was the same question that Yoru had asked herself every time since she’d arrived in the mortal plane. She didn’t know the answer to it… and a growing part of her liked that. There was something delightful about not knowing something. About not needing to know something.
Tim had mentioned that the humans had a phrase for such things.
Ignorance is bliss.
She got the sense that it had been meant to be sarcastic, but Yoru found that it rung true in many things.
The act of mere discovery was a delight on its own.
Knowing, after all, was not the same as learning. There was a very distinct difference between the two. Learning was… earned. It felt deeper. More intense, as if facts learned were simply brighter.
It was not a feeling that Yoru could properly describe, but she hoped that one day, she would be able to learn how to.
“On the roof again, Yoru?”
Yoru turned. She didn’t need to, of course. She recognized Tim’s voice, and she’d heard his approach from the moment he’d made his way onto the tower roof. Her senses painted a picture of him in her mind. It was nowhere near what she had once seen with Moonlit Prophecy. Instead of the form of a man, Tim was more of a gentle pond of life.
“I enjoy the night,” Yoru said.
“So I can tell,” Tim said with a quiet chuckle. “It’s peaceful, isn’t it? I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“It is your tower.”
“Everyone has a right to privacy, even when they share a house with others.”
“Your company is not undesired. It is not the first time you have come here to find me. I have given you the same answer every time.”
“But minds can change,” Tim said with a small smile. Yoru couldn’t truly see his lips change. Her eyes were as blind as they had been the day Moonlit Prophecy had taken them from her — but she could feel the shift in his tone.
“Mine has not.”
“Then you’ll have to excuse me.” Tim sat down beside her with a grunt that turned to a slow sigh as he craned his neck up to look at the moon alongside her. “Beautiful. There was a long time when I was counting down the days, you know.”
“To what?”
“Death,” Tim replied. “I am old, Yoru.”
“Not as old as me.”
“No,” Tim agreed. “Not nearly. But not as powerful either. And my life has been nearing its conclusion for quite some time. Reckoned I had a few good years left in me at most. Only got another chance when I got my runes all fixed up.”
Tim didn’t offer any more information on how he’d done that, and Yoru didn’t ask. She got the feeling she already knew.
“And now? Why do you come up here?”
“To enjoy the view,” Tim replied.
Yoru hesitated, and the old human let out a small chuckle.
“What? Not what you were expecting? Not every motivation is grand. We humans like pretty things. Is that not why you come out here?”
“I do not know,” Yoru said. “I sit here because I do.”
“Now that isn’t a reason at all,” Tim observed. “I’ve found most people don’t do things without reason. Our reasons can be as simple or complicated as can be, but they’re still there. Are demons different?”
“I am not the one to ask. I do not know.”
“Then I’d imagine you’ve got a reason. Something bothering you, perhaps?”
“Yes.”
Tim paused. “That was surprisingly forthright.”
“Is that bad?”
“No,” Tim replied. “Simply surprising. Few are so in touch with their own emotions. What is it that bothers you? I doubt I can help, but perhaps speaking of it will do more than sitting in silence.”
“I want my arms back,” Yoru said simply. “Is that selfish of me? They were the price at which my future was purchased back from my own rune, and yet I still long for them. I do not enjoy this feeling of powerlessness.”
“You’re probably the strongest person in this tower,” Tim pointed out.
“And yet Violet feeds me my meals.”
“I can see how that would be frustrating. But it isn’t a bad thing to rely on others while you’re in recovery. And you aren’t going to be incapacitated forever. Please correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m certain that a demon such as yourself has already been working on a solution.”
Yoru inclined her head. “I have been thinking on it. To be honest… I suspect I have already found the solution. An application of my rune’s powers should allow me at least a temporary repair. But, for some reason, I have not yet acted. I do not know why.”
“Can’t answer that one,” Tim said. “Maybe you’re worried about something? I’ve often delayed important decisions because I’m concerned of the consequences they bear. Is the rune something dangerous?”
It was a moment before Yoru responded. “Not anymore.”
“But it was?”
“At one point. I have not used it since.”
“Then that might be it,” Tim said with a knowing nod. He clapped Yoru on the shoulder. “Don’t push yourself. Violet seems like a good friend. She won’t bemoan a few more days of helping out. Just wait for the right time and then advance when you are ready. Not everything has to be rushed. Maybe you just need some inspiration.”
Yoru didn’t respond. Tim’s words were… surprisingly comforting. She wasn’t sure if that should have been embarrassing or not. Yoku the Rising Moon, getting advice from a human less than half her age.
Perhaps wisdom is not constrained entirely to—
Something blurred in the calm around Yoru, ripping her from her thoughts in an instant. There was a sickening mar carving through the air directly toward them — toward Tim.
Yoru picked up on its approach at a speed entirely impossible for a normal human mind to compute. A presence, one stronger than the average human, streaked with the intent to kill like a comet.
There was a wet crunch.
Tim staggered back, a sharp, surprised breath slipping from his lips.
Blood splattered across the roof.
And, in the light of the gentle moon, a life sputtered out.
All that remained of it was a corpse.
The body was impaled upon an arm; a heart clenched within a hand of shimmering blue moonlight.
But it was not just any hand.
It was her hand.
Yoru stood before Tim, having moved before her body had even registered the motion. Gentle swirls of quiet light traveled down from her right shoulder to form into an arm of energy. Motes of light like the stars themselves swam within its translucent form.
From her grip hung a dead demon.
“Damned Plains,” Tim breathed, taking a step back. “What happened?”
“It seems I found sufficient motivation,” Yoru said, her attention casting across the darkness surrounding them. There were more of them, the brushstrokes of some rancid painter carving across the beauty of the night surrounding the Transport Cannon. “And I believe we are under attack.”