Breaking Point

Some part of her fate was tethered to that of the major god, Alistair. He now knew at least that much.

It was difficult to determine what to make of that fact, perhaps an indication of her age and most definitely a signifier of her position. If his memory weren’t so jaded and the years hadn’t begun hacking away at the scaffolding supporting his youth, it might’ve been an easier mental investigation. It wasn’t as if a nine tailed fox was an everyday occurrence.

Either way, he really didn’t have any recollection of some kind of mythical fox, neither metaphorical or literal. If Nico had echoed these same footsteps, he’d surely have a better idea than this. The chambers of his mind were always quite fond of categorising people and creatures alike, even as a mere pass time.

It was a shame the god chose Kael instead.

“Y’know, I only followed you here because you took my crystal,” Words rolled off the fox’s tongue like the verses of a poem. No emotion betrayed her demeanour: unmoving in the same way that a wolf lying amongst the bushes might do.

In the worst moment possible, the penny dropped.

Back in Dusk Town, the ghoul he’d subdued held onto one. The very ghoul they discovered to be a distraction, forging the gateway for the master to hunt down the shaman.

Dread and loathing sewed the seams of his rationale shut, exposing the frayed ends left behind.

Right. The master that killed the shaman.

“It was you,” The sorcerer spoke, breathless. A dizzy haze settled over him like a fog. The tendons in his hands began to vibrate, lungs slowing from their rapid state to a sparse beat. Preying on the likes of an old woman, poaching the life force from a diviner resigned to the role of a recluse mentor. His knuckles clenched hard enough to show bone, as a fire crackled its way across his nerves.

Wicked. There was no nuance, no benefit of the doubt, no excuse that could mend a drained soul. A life was taken, stolen away from the dignity of a natural end.

Yet this woman had the nerve to keep scores over pieces of rock.

“What was me? You don’t mean the hag in the shack?” A lopsided smile crept onto her face as her voice purred on, flicking her tails in a playful tandem. She was nothing short of smug. Every part of this story was likely a form of entertainment to her, in the same way that a cat might parade around whatever pathetic creature it had unleashed upon. Not for food or fortune, not for any kind of necessary purpose. Simply out of boredom.

For a moment, he thought that the roof might’ve given way to a flurry of rainfall, creeping through the worn tiles of the lesser inn. Only when he peered down did he realise his mistake.

Blood. Thick and gushing.

The metallic smell chased out the scent of cedar and floral wax. All nine tails had fallen in sync as if she’d been hit with some kind of hypnosis.

For a moment, everything was very still. Only the constant drip upon wooden boards interrupted the groan of the wind brushing against the shutters.

With a jolt, the fox fell forward. Rogue limbs caught herself upon one knee as her hand flew to her back - revealing the blade protruding from between two shoulder blades.

Hidden behind the wretched woman’s shadow, the silent assassin.

Poised like a banshee, Miria lifted her foot and kicked the woman hard, shoving her crumpled body to the floor.

“You evil bitch,” The acolyte spat, crimson eyes trembling in their optical prison.

Unbridled resentment radiated out from her like a beacon. Gone was the cool exterior, immunity a faint thing of the past. Her medical blades were bunched into one fist, mirroring the way features had closed together, into something that was inherently unlike her.

Kael thought that his jaw couldn’t possibly fall wider, even if it was torn from its hinges. For the first time, Kael really saw her as a demon.

“Miria…” The sorcerer murmured, almost involuntarily. For her to find out in such a way, in the face of cruelty beyond what one could imagine - he found himself desperate to stop a dam from caving in on itself. But he wasn’t able to meet her gaze.

In a drawn out motion, the fox yanked the knife free, wincing as it left the surface of her skin. Once the metal had gone lax, she discarded it in a careless toss. As if nothing had ever perforated the flesh of her back, she lurched out, sharp claws grazing through the fabric of his footwear.

A splitting force struck Kael across his core, shattering against agonising tendons like his own body threatened to outgrow him. Sheets of white replaced what eyes could once see, a vulgar kind of temporary stun.

Aether - the same kind of magic that had struck him back in the cavern. There wasn't a soul that had lived to channel the complex light magic that had died without note, and this woman would surely be no exception.

Kael found his feet fast enough to jump to Miria’s defence, sword reaching out to block the anticipated attack that never quite arrived.

The woman was at the shutters in an instant, casting them open with the pressure of a few tails. A smile had contorted its way back across her face, and Kael’s stare panned down to discover the true intent behind her actions.

“Rest assured, I’ll be back for the both of you. I think I’d like to play with you a little longer,” The fox paused, tails almost wagging as the crystal crushed under her palm’s pressure, fracturing into jagged fragments.

“Since you wanted this so badly. Go fetch,” She laughed as she tossed the pieces, before hurtling straight from the gaping window.

                                                                      ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

If he’d have known what ‘fetch’ entailed, he might’ve begged the fox to stay.

For every little glass fragment that fell from the window bed, a creature grew in its place. All kinds of little monsters ran rampant across the tired city, imps ripping at the tiles of old roofs as hobgoblins crawled through windows to paw at sleeping children. Spriggans emerged from maple trees, branch fingers grasping onto pieces of wood and tearing them off, and the shadow of something mundane enough to blend into the road raced on by.

Back in the innhouse, Miria’s fingers curled into fists against the wooden grain. The emergence of the creatures didn’t seem to phase her at all, at least not now that the fox woman had taken priority. From where the blades pressed snug against her palm, little beads of blood had begun to emerge.

“Miria, we must go after them,” He spoke, gentle yet firm. The kind of thing that bubbled up inside her now, he knew it better than anyone.

It was tainted with a twitch of envy. Miria had a face to blame, hate and chase after. Even if temporary, the kindle of a flame born of anger was a powerful fuel. To seek to deliver one’s karma, to deal what they had dealt - all of it Kael envied more than anything else.

The Priestess was incapable of justice or liberation, for the only suspect was himself.

“I’ll kill her,” The acolyte spoke barely over a whisper, unwavering even now.

About an hour had passed since then. With the aid of a reluctant Miria, Kael spent his time tracking down and eliminating each of the scattered monsters, tearing them from buildings and away from the havens of sleeping civilians.

The temples upon Kael’s head throbbed in agony, worn from overuse of sigils and their toll. It was relatively simple to locate the beasts, evident in the diverging vibrations in their activity - but earth sigils spanning wide areas were ever so tiresome. His bones had already begun to groan and falter, begging to be relieved of the pressure.

Bloodseek Blade was having a fulfilling night, lapping up the winnings of each mini battle, of each fallen trouble maker. He still held contempt for the sword, it was a strange little thing. Each monster slain at its hand seemed to jab a little pin into his spine, pressure swelling around the organs it seemed to constrict.

Although it was harder to breathe, each flick of a sigil came a little easier - less restrained, less bound to the typical human limitations.

These critters did not have abilities similar to the likes of the ghoul. With only a fragment of the crystal at their disposal, they appeared to possess nothing beyond the scope of their species. Peculiar as they were, none could cause a great deal of damage - more of an irritating inconvenience than anything else.

To the villagers that cowered behind the walls of their homes, it wasn’t quite the same. Even within the demon realm, monsters and spirits often kept to themselves or limited their havoc to just one individual. Afterall, a sheep knows better than anyone to steer clear of a wolf, even if the grass it dozed upon was greener and lusher than the rest.

Catching wind of a pack of monsters was undeniably frightening. Kael comforted the cityfolk as he ventured on, rounding up the last of each rogue beast as the night hauled on.

Eventually, all had returned to quiet. Peaceful and mundane, as all should be. Every piece had returned to where it belonged, neatly upon its square on the chessboard.

Except for one.

Dread cracked across his skull in a blazing strike, a match to assembled kindling. She’d done it again.

Somehow, the crystal had been the bonfire that led the fox right into his nest. He’d hosted the tracker like a memento, unknowingly drawing the danger right to him. Even after losing a life to deception, he was as naive as ever.

And in all this chaos, he’d been deceived once again. Duped just like he had back in Dusk Town.

For he wasn’t the only to possess one of the crystals fallen from a beast. It was the very same thing that knitted the group together.

Lucian.

And thanks to Kael, the noble was left vulnerable, veiled behind each winding street and bunched avenue. The man could be anywhere - there was no telling which building could be housing the loner.

If he still were living at all.