Ritual

Calligan took a step back, grabbing his own daughter, Isabelle, by the hair as he raised a knife to her throat.

“Belle!” Elienoire cried out, reaching out a hand. She was so close to her, but still so far, held down by the hooded figure behind her.

‘Damn it! He’s going to try and finalise the ritual now!'

Liel rolled slightly onto her side, difficult under the weight of the hooded man's boot, but accomplishable. In her interior pocket, pressed down by the heft of her body, the glass vial holding the remaining Siltte she had retrieved from the Estuary shattered. The glass fragments cut through her shirt, burying deep into her skin, and she could feel the Horror on her arm begin to writhe rapidly, as if sensing the presence of the Tree's life.

But she would act quicker than it could, if only to avoid her final chance of victory dying to corruption.

The Siltte shot up the length of her chest, twisting around her neck before shooting out of her collar, lengthening and solidifying into a sharp object. A small silver blade pierced the back of the hooded figure's ankle, severing the flesh and causing him to lose control of his balance. The man let out a shrill exclamation of agony, but as soon as he had taken the weight of his boot off of her, Liel shot upwards.

Another figure scrambled to grasp at her, only catching her wrist, his iron grip holding her back. But Liel was not to be stopped. She twisted her form away from the figure, loud snapping sounds echoing through the room. The bones in her wrist shattered, allowing her to slip through the hooded figure's grip and dash madly towards the Chieftain.

"Kill... at all costs!" She mimicked Ciseus as she reached Calligan, who threw Isabelle to the side and brandished the knife at Liel.

Rushing past his knife, she unsheathed Calligan's blade from his belt, pivoting backwards before thrusting it through his abdomen. The blade met resistance as it made contact with his ribcage, but even with the pain radiating through her wrist, she persisted, forcing it out through his back. Blood began to spray in the direction of the Elders standing behind him, covering their boots and the wooden floor in splashes of bright crimson.

The hooded figures had begun to rush towards her in order to prevent this, but as soon as she had done this, they all froze around her as if they had turned into statues.

Calligan stared in disbelief at Liel as she pierced him with his own blade. How could a girl almost half his size free herself of a soldier strengthened by an inhuman entity, bearing the pain of breaking herself apart to accomplish this goal?

"Ciseus, huh? You're more like Sir Sif... you would have made a good servant of Leter. Destroying yourself for victory... how self-sacrificial of you."

Liel grimaced, her irises filled with hatred that threatened to boil over. "Don't speak of the Lords. Die in silence, traitor."

"Traitor...? How can I be a traitor? How is loving my family... treason?" Calligan's face twisted crazily. "You know... we were aware that your Lord could unravel our plans. Lord Eurussil told us to give him our eyes so that he could not see."

'Was that the reason why Lord Ciseus couldn't help? There were no eyes for him to see through? Then why did I perceive them as having eyes? Was this an illusion?'

"You're going to die. Do you really want these to be your last words?"

"I won't die. You can't kill what lives on. Don't you know why they call it Horror?"

"Because it is inhuman. It is horrific." The hooded men had all stopped moving, and the Elders seemed to tacitly allow Calligan's death, so Liel didn't mind humouring him in his last moments. If possible, she mostly wanted to prolong his suffering.

"No, that's not it at all. You won't know. You won't know at all, not until you accept our Lord's Will. You fear the unknown, and you will never know, and that is why it is horrifying. Why? Why is Horror trying to kill us all? What is the answer to this question?" His ranting took on a tone of elation, almost crazed fanaticism. "Not even Chimes has this bit of knowledge. And your own Lord, Ciseus... he can't even bear to look at Horror! How laughable is it!? Even your Gods despair! Me and my family will live on peacefully, and this world that can't accept them will continue to fear!"

Liel grimaced, pulling the sword out of Calligan's chest. She took another step back, pivoting her weight before swinging the blade with a severe lack of control, not caring at all if she missed. It cut deep into Calligan's neck as if it were softened potatoes. Blood like melted butter ran down the length of his chest, soaking into his clothes, and his fanatical expression became frozen on his face, toppling to the floor, separate from his body.

Elienoire had rushed forward, covering Isabelle with her body as they moved to the door, exiting the Chieftain's home.

Liel looked down at Calligan's corpse as it fell to the ground beside his head, her expression dark.

"Your path... it isn't living. It's becoming something else... something worse than human."

Suddenly, the frozen hooded figures toppled to the ground. The Elders standing in the background began to claw at their faces, blood dripping down the surface of their cheeks as they screamed in agony. Pitch-black liquid crawled towards the floor from each of them, coalescing beside the deceased Chieftain and his son.

The pulsating liquid stacked atop each other, climbing towards the ceiling as it adopted a human form, albeit far larger. The shadowy figure made up of Horror was almost three-times as large as Liel, brandishing a pitch-black blade with both hands. It opened its gaping maw, liquid dripping from its false lips as it let out an inhuman screech.

Liel's entire body convulsed with fear as she stared up at the beast. How many people had she seen die to these creatures under the guise of a 'lesson'? When Meister Coreas had brought them to Hel in order to learn of the enemy they would soon face, he forced them to witness a true battle. Paladins associated with the Paladin's Templar were scattered across a sullen battlefield of ash and blood, while giant amalgamations of pitch-black liquid crawled with multitudes of legs and flew with buzzing wings to tear them to pieces.

How could she face something that could be anything?

The rune on her face shimmered, forcing calm into her body once more. However, alongside this, all her muscles felt fatigued. She faltered, thrusting Calligan's blade into the wood below so she could lean on its hilt.

'Damn it- have I overused the rune!? Meister Sif warned me about this... Siltte is our greatest tool, but also the greatest poison...'

The giant creature lurched towards Liel, baring fangs made of writhing liquid. Simultaneously, in the background, one of the Elders tore his own face off, unsheathing his blade before spinning in a circle, cutting into the necks of two of his fellow Elders. The wall became coated in a film of crimson, and the unmasked Elder rushed towards the creature.

Brandishing a blade, the man sliced through the outstretched arm of Horror, causing a mass of liquid to fall to the ground, splashing in many directions.

Through the haze of her fatigue, Liel caught a slight glimpse of the man's face. He had short curly brown hair, eyes as blue as sapphires, and his face was the sort of thing one would think to look at twice. Although his features were slightly different from the last time she had seen him, Liel knew it was him- it was the mysterious Bard who had led her to the first corpse.

When the Bard turned his head to glance at Liel, his face anxious and desperate, Liel's eyes widened. There was a rune on the side of his face, just like Liel. However, where hers was a bright silver, his was as red as blood.

'A Red! He's a Red! A False Servant of a Deity! Meister Sif warned me about them! They're not bound to morals! Killers! Sacrilegious heretics!'

The Horror Beast kicked out towards Liel, throwing her to the ground as she distracted herself. The mysterious Red Bard dashed towards the creature with his blade drawn, trying to occupy its attention as he called out to Liel. "Grab your sword! Kill the Elders!"

"From the depths of Hel, where the restless roam, I call upon thee, born of the unknown, arise from the eternal labyrinth of mysteries..."

Liel's eyes widened, looking back towards the Elders. Those who remained, about nine in total, had begun to chant in unison.

'I never figured out why the Elders were complicit in the ritual! But they still haven't stopped!?'

Liel crawled desperately towards her blade, which had fallen to the ground along with the hooded figures. Her fingers wrapped weakly around its hilt, her gaze growing fierce and stern.

Summoning the last of her strength, Liel rolled onto her back, sitting up as she heaved the blade over her shoulders, throwing it towards one of the Elders. It flew across the room, embedding its sharp edge deep into the skull of one of the Elders, causing him to fall against the wall of the room and topple to the floor, leaving a trail of crimson behind him.

The massive pitch-black creature lashed out with a misshapen limb that more resembled a whip, catching the Red Bard in the ribs.

He was thrown across the room, slamming against the wall. He sputtered, coughing out blood as he slid down to the floor, clutching at his abdomen. Red Bard's previously fearful expression had dissipated, replaced by determination. "Liel, the ritual! They're using Calligan's corpse! They're going to finish it!"

'How does he know my name!?' Liel grimaced as she rushed towards the line of elders, pulling Calligan's sword out of the ground. However, it was futile. Losing control over her legs, she faltered and fell onto the ground. The sword clattered beside her, and although she tried to push herself back up, no strength remained in her arms. She was helpless in front of the Elders, forced to watch as their lips uttered finality.

"...break the chains between worlds, summon us to your doorstep. The hive of fear shall arise. Lord, we are prepared to greet you. Allow us to enter your kingdom unharmed."

The floor opened up underneath them, a malevolent fog swallowing the Elders and the Horror Beast, disappearing from her sight.

She had failed.

The mysterious Red Bard stood up, rushing towards the gateway. He peered over its edge, grimacing as he witnessed the depths of Hel below. Liel glanced up at him from below, confused and terrified.

"Who... who are you?"

The Red looked back down at her, his face seemingly calm and serene, as if he had given up worrying over the endeavour.

“May the Gods watch over you, my Lady. When I was younger, company would suit me. Not so much anymore. My old age has left me a bit clumsy in thought. I had kept it well all my life, but I was attacked by a Red a couple months back…” The Bard turned his head away, repeating familiar phrases to Liel in an aged croon. When he looked back at Liel, his handsome face had warped. He had an old, haggard appearance, with eyes as black as iron, and cloud-white brows as thick as caterpillars.

“The carriage driver!? You were the old man!?” Liel took a hesitant step back. “Are you a servant of Lord Mistus- a user of the False Face!?”

“Follow, or don’t. The end goal remains the same.” Ignoring her questions, his face shifted when he turned away once more, affixing a black hunter's hat to his head before stepping forward into the depths of the gateway, his words echoing as he fell.

"Kill the Elders."