The Little Lord

Kerron got uncomfortable around the wedding talk. Not that it wasn’t a good thing, but for someone of his position, it was just a reminder of a stark reality.

As the Lord of Death, he could not have too many attachments. Bonds for the Lord of Death more often than not, led to tragedy.

His predecessor was a good example of many former Lords of Death who fell victim to the same folly. Part of their duties was in accepting that life and death were part of the important cycle that kept everything running smoothly. Every Lord had their own unique way of dealing with it, but ultimately, no matter how long it took, all souls must depart once they lost their mortal form. To hold onto a soul after death was to cause that soul to become warped with resentment and become a target for Malice, which then transformed them into monsters.

There were beasts and monsters in this world. Beasts were everyday animals, magic and non-magical, but Monsters were purely beings born of Malice, with the majority being lost souls. As Malice existed as the accumulation of the fear, hate, resentment and anger of people and nature alike, so there was no shortage of the monsters that roamed the world. Their existence alone could infect the hearts of the weak and cause more to manifest into existence. In some legends, there existed monsters that came uniquely from the Malice born solely of a people’s fear, which fed itself by menacing them every day.

The former lord caused no small end of trouble by shirking his duties for the sake of a loved one. By not helping wandering spirits who could not return to the cycle of rebirth on their own, they were allowed to remain in Vestia, haunting the world as monsters. And with their existence came more and more, because the population became so utterly frightened. Resentment was high, because people blamed each other, which only led to more to appear. It was an endless cycle.

Alongside Crim and Azura, Kerron defeated the former Lord of Death and then…

It was not the first time a Lord of Death was sundered and surely not the last.

Kerron had been careful, dismissing everyone at the castle. All the servants, all the guards – the castle at the edge of the Forest of Spirits was once a lively place long ago, but aside from his spirit aides, he chose not to keep anyone, hoping the solitude would keep him from falling into temptation.

In the end, he ended up with someone else living at the castle.

Yuzuki was the daughter of Crim and Azura from their previous life, so that sort of made her family to him. On behalf of the two heroes who remained by his side against all odds, he felt obligated to look after her, even if he had his reservations. So having found a reason for her to stay gave him a bit of relief.

As long as he could rationalize her presence, it would be fine. If he treated her as distant family, even if she was not aware, it would not result in tragedy.

She will be going home, back to her original world, eventually.

Of course, it wasn’t only the Lord of Death who could succumb to the temptation of going against the natural order of the world. His position simply had the most consequences. And yet, there were many other Lords whose duties were important enough that if they ignored them, it could still lead to catastrophe.

Lords can sense one another, even if they could not divine right away the title the other had.

It was that little prickling at the back of his mind making him aware of another Lord’s presence that drew him away out of curiosity. Almost as long since his last visit to Silkhollow, it had also been years since he last crossed paths with any of the other Lords. Perhaps there had been a change of guard while he was away, so the Lords he was once familiar with might have already passed by this point.

The presence of the other Lord was one fleeting quickness – they never remained in one spot for long. Moving from one place, to the next, in an almost recklessly hasty manner. High above as they were, Kerron assumed that perhaps the other Lord was on the ground, in order to explain the speed in which they moved.

“Oh, no, the wood rot has come back,” someone stated nearby, voice full of worry.

“What?! Again?! Just what is that Lord of Purification doing? Really…what shoddy work. Lord Asklepia would have never allowed this,” stated another person, sighing.

So, the Lord of Purification had made their home in Silkhollow.

When one thought of purification, one often thought of holy powers and healing. However, while that did sort of fall under the abilities of the Lord of Purification, it was not actually their duty. As Kerron recalled, this Lord was in charge of keeping the oceans, air and earth clean. In essence ‘purification’ meant drawing out the pollution in the world, which was a full time job as the larger the population grew the more excess waste was created in response to those living. Elves were usually quite good at living cleanly, so something must be wrong if a Lord, a being meant to handle this sort of thing, was struggling and things like rot was evident.

“Angelia! Over here!” a merchant shouted, pointing at the growing rot.

“Right!” squeaked a small, young voice. “Thank you so much, I’ll get to it right away!”

The Lord was here.

Kerron looked over as he felt that strong pure presence coming towards his direction and was stunned at what he saw.

A child. Followed by an entourage of sentient balls of jelly, one in her tiny little arms. An elf child, too. How rare. He noticed her pale hair and pointed ears as she got closer, headed to where the rotting of the tree began showing.

Another thing he noticed was that there were bags under her eyes and she seemed exhausted. Though she ran energetically, there was a weariness in her young face. Her eyes were a deep blue, reminiscent of an ocean, but instead of sparkling with life, they were dull; truly, she looked completely spent.

Raising the little jelly-like creature in her arms, she tossed it at the branch that was beginning to blacken. It flew towards the spot and latched on, its slime-like body stretching out to cover the spot. In this moment, the elf child closed her eyes and clasped her hands together, as if in prayer. Her whole form began to glow as she gathered her magic and dispersed it to her familiar, which then in turn began to heal the corruption spreading through the wood. It did not take long and slowly the dark spot receded, her duty fulfilled. For now.

When the purification was done, the child let out a small sigh of relief, shoulder sagging as she bent over tiredly. Kerron understood all too well how she felt and pitied her for she was so young to be taking on this responsibility.

“Angelia! What took you so long?” one of the elf adults said, coming over to scold her. It was just one among the many at the market, going about their usual daily business with basket on hand filled with food from the stalls. “You need to keep up, Angelia. You can’t slack off. Lord Asklepia never struggled so much – and his power reached all over the world!”

The child flinched at the harsh criticism, then bowed her head in shame, little hands grasping tightly at the hem of her little dress. It was a threadbare affair, with no embellishments and plenty of holes. It was appalling – Lords were not automatically rich or affluent, but normally when one inherited a Lord’s title, they ended up bequeathed with the previous Lord’s assets. It was how Kerron had a whole castle to himself; he gained everything from the previous Lord of Death.

On top of this, the Lord of Purification was a child, a rarity among elves as they were a race so long lived, they felt it irresponsible to procreate recklessly. Most elves normally considered having children every three hundred years as a sort of cycle to keep their numbers carefully curated. And the last boom had been around the time Kerron had been born.

Angelia, the Lord of Purification, just accepted the scolding though.

“I’m sorry, I’m still learning. I’ll do better…” Her words were watery, as if trying to hold in tears and her whole form trembled and shook like a leaf in a strong wind. Angelia was now worrying her hair, twisting at the single large curly lock tied off to the side of her head. How anxious!

“Angelia! Someone reported another impurity along the eastern trees.”

“Angelia! The silk farms need purifying. Hurry up before the worms get sick.”

“Angelia!”

“Angelia!”

“ANGELIA!!”

But her troubles were neverending. So many voices, so many demands. Kerron felt terrible for the little one, who looked positively overwhelmed, trying to decide where to go next, trying to prioritize the most needy of her powers. He could only imagine how the rest of the world was faring when the Lord was so young..

“C…coming…”

An adult would have trouble keeping up with so many demands. But someone so young?

Angelia made to move, but it all proved too much for the child and the light went out in her eyes. Quickly, Kerron moved forward to catch her before she hit the market floor. Her little companions came around them, the little blobs jumping up and down fretfully. The child’s magical presence was still there (even if a bit faint), so she hadn’t died, but he still moved to check her pulse and feeling that palpable proof that she was all right came as a relief.

A crowd had formed around them, some complaining about Angelia being unable to do her work, while a few went to get help. Yuzuki, who finally escaped the fabric merchant, came through the throng to get to him.

Perfect, he thought.

“Lord Kerron, what’s going on?”

“Yuzuki, perfect timing. I need your help with this child.”

The young human woman looked between him and the little elf child nestled now in his arms. There was confusion in her eyes, but she nodded in agreement to his request.

“Tell me what to do,” she said, resolutely.