Near forgotten was the repugnant man who had striven so hard to best her, no more real than an actor's mask, donned for the duration of but a single scene. For in her present state she was somehow aware of the dozen other lives that child had lived, and the gentle boy underneath it all, embracing every existence, every journey through life as a separate adventure. Some were looked back upon fondly, others with genuine regret; he, like so many children she had known, always hoping for new and exciting stories to add to their tale. Yet for all of them was the secret wish to be loved and embraced by a gentle grace far beyond themselves. Embracing the endless dance of life and rebirth, Jess was struck by the image of countless souls finding peace and happiness within a sacred garden, spirits of children she knew and loved with all of her heart, and now one of those gentle souls had been torn from his home.
Jess felt a fierce heat overtake her. Flashes of hideous battlefields in places dark and foul lit upon her mind's eye. Armies of hellions shrieking and dying before her terrible legions, and she always at the fore, her terrible blade howling with the promise of Oblivion itself, ancient gods of fire and shadow by her side.
Jess snarled, an echo of her hound, the very ground seeming to shudder, as if trembling before the weight of legions to come.
“Mistress!” Twilight snapped, “remember the Accords! War has not been declared! Give not lowly ones such as these, power over you!”
Jess took a shuddering breath, consciously stepping back from a dark precipice she barely understood, yet something in the wide-eyed gazes of the monstrous crowd before her made it clear that they, at least, sensed the storm howling just beneath her icy veneer.
The scroll wielding figure hissed and spat, his mask of cheerful bonhomie instantly sundered. "Don't think to cow me, wench! The lad's soul is mine, free and clear! You who claim to be a true Power, keeping your souls in mundus, chained to nothing save their own desires! It's your own damn fault he was easy prey!"
They thought her some dread lord, she suddenly realized, gazing upon that terrified boy weeping tears of blood, chained like a dog by the snarling demon’s feet, even as the hideous creature in gentleman's clothing kicked and cursed the sobbing child. Yet despite the horror and depravity of the scene, other memories settled upon Jess. For the boy's face was achingly familiar. He was one with whom she had shared laughter and tears, warm stories of many lives lived even as they rested between adventures. He was a man who had once sacrificed so much to save a desperate young woman's family, lifetimes ago, who had looked so achingly noble even in the silhouette of her burning cottage, her soot stained children safely in his arms.
Jess shook, fiercely blinking away hot tears dripping to the ground like brilliant diamonds. She would find a way to free that child, she swore to herself, no matter the twisted byzantine rules that governed this horrible place.
Jess thought a moment, sharing a look with her familiar, who abruptly smiled, as if reading her mind. "What do you think the crime would be, should one lord cross another, my mistress?" Twilight softly suggested.
Jess smiled, gazing upon the demon before her once more. “So, you acknowledge he was mine?”
“The truth is there for anyone with a nose, harlot!" the creature snarled. "Your filthy musk is all over him, yet he is free of the scars and mutilations befitting a true mistress of pain." His snarl turned to a mocking smile. "Was he a prize, perchance? Were you saving your stock for when your hunger peeked, to savor this trembling soul when your cravings had reached an exquisite crescendo? Was he part of a subtle stash, to be devoured at leisure, sweet and lush as a fresh caught soul?" The inhumanly smooth face the creature wore began to crack, showing the maggot-ridden foulness hiding within. He flashed Jess a lewd wink. "Such a shame, I know, to lose such a precious marker to the wiles of a better player. What a delightful treasure he is, as good as any flesh caught from the mortal realms!"
“Taken from my realm, you say?”
The creature grabbed possessively at the boy’s hair, the lad’s exhausted gaze turning to fresh cries, even as the creature bit savagely into the boy’s hip, smiling cruelly as the memory of blood coated its monstrous fangs, even as the boy screamed. “Sweet as a virgin’s flesh. Truly a prize. And what a pathetic mistress you are, to allow your treasures to be lured from your Domain so effortlessly.”
The elegantly disguised demon, for all his bluster, snarled and stepped back as Jess flashed a cold grin.
“I have offered neither challenge, nor threat!” the demon hissed. “You may not strike at me, whatever powers you may possess. Discordia is neutral ground to all our kind!”
Jess rather casually lashed out with her blade of thorns, arcing the perfectly balanced smallsword through the air in a vicious little sequence of snapping cuts and deadly lunges, enjoying the flickering look of uncertainty distorting the mask of the mocking demon before her. Yet the pleasure of her taunt was soon eclipsed by the bittersweet memory of a time achingly long ago when a certain young princess had adored learning the gentlemanly art of smallsword from her doting uncle.
An era of carriages and top hats, trade empires that spanned continents, galleons with sextants that could navigate all the seas of Dawn. It had been a time of indulgence and wonder, exquisitely wrought steel and inventions unparalleled. Yet the sun had finally set on that empire as unspeakable tragedy had shattered the kingdom, all its metallurgical secrets, even its very memory, eventually lost to time's inexorable march.
Jess shuddered, blinking away suddenly painful memories that faded to nothingness, utterly certain that the princess herself had perished in that tragedy. It had been the day of her thirteenth birthday when she had been neatly run through, slumped over the still warm body of her wolfhound, wearing petticoats and dress of ivory and scarlet, her last memory as she lay dying being the exquisitely hilted smallsword so very similar to the one she flourished at that instant.
Jess fought back a sob for the soul of that lost girl, butchered by an uncle she had adored a thousand years ago.
Twilight gently patted her cheek. “Focus on the here and now, my mistress.”
Jess gave an abrupt shake of her head, doing her best to dispel ghosts of a past she couldn’t bear to remember. Only the haunted gaze of the boy trembling in the grip of the monstrous demon that would claim his soul would she focus herself upon. For though the past was forever lost to her, perhaps she could bring solace to this terrified soul, if nothing else.
She captured the gaze of the creature who gripped so fiercely the panicked soul of a child she would save. “Tell me, thing, what do you know of the wand, or the chalice?”
The creature stumbled back, eyes widening, and snarled. More than one top-hatted gentleman gazed on with cold bemusement, some flashing toothy smiles, savoring yet another scene in the play of Powers before them.
“What I know is of no moment, cursed get!” The creature snarled.
Jess tilted her head. “Do you deny knowing the significance of those artifacts? Are they not the toys with which you enticed this foolish soul to pledge himself to you? To sign the parchment even now gripped so tightly in your trembling fist?”
“This creature swore himself to me for the gift of a silver tongue! I care naught for artifacts or whatever games he was playing!" The demon blustered, glaring angrily at Jess. "Now you will excuse me, I have had more than my fill of talking to the likes of you." He taunted Jess with a cold smirk. "Far more important concerns await one such as I. Good day."
Jess sighed, breathing deep, her expression almost beatific. “You’re lying,” she whispered indulgently through rosebud lips. “I can taste your lies. The malice of your deception. Honey sweet is your hate.” She laughed softly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
The creature’s nostrils flared, more of his perfect features breaking away, showing a twisted snout leaking mucus and blood, so carefully hidden till that moment. “It means nothing, wench! This soul is mine, and any prizes I seize are of no concern to you!”
<
br /> Jess cocked a bemused eyebrow. “And if I were to concede that your contract had been valid, that this poor, broken soul had acted as your agent whilst within my realm?”
The boy’s eyes gazed imploringly into Jessica’s own. “Oh gods, Jess. Please, please don’t let him take me!”
The creature smiled savagely “Jess. That is your name. So twisted is your realm, broken fragments tied to time and constant renewal, ages and epochs constantly shedding their skins like a skein of serpents, infested with the curse of mortality! But yes, that feels right, girl. Your name is Jess. What is the significance of your name, I wonder? What claim would a true dark master hold over such a wayward creature as yourself?”
The young soul in the twisted creature's possession gazed at Jess in shock and horror, only now realizing the significance of what he had said.
Jess shivered, though her steely gaze did not break. “I care not for your meaningless speculations. Now it is time for you to surrender my prize of war. Or do you wish to challenge me, creature? My blade stands ready to meet your own.”
The demon snarled. “The soul is mine, you pathetic excuse for a queen! Netted fair and square from your broken little realm.”
It was then that the spokesman who had spoken to Jess with such eerie politeness laughed at his companion’s folly. “Ah, my dear friend. I am afraid you don’t understand the significance of your concession, or the repercussions of our naughty little venture into our dear guest’s realm.”
The demon snarled, though he kept his tongue civil, seemingly cowed by the amicable spokesman for their infernal group. “What repercussions? This soul signed his name in blood, traded fairly for mortal gifts given, and now it is paying the price.”
Twilight chuckled softly. “What it means, fool, is that the soul you claim as your own had worked on your behalf while traversing the realm of my mistress. Thus he had acted as your agent, working against the interests of the sovereign body he had trespassed within. Surely you know what that means, pathetic excuse for a demon?”
The creature’s nostrils flared even as he angrily gnashed his teeth against the helpless flesh of the screaming boy he held.
Jess grinned in satisfaction at the creature's apoplectic look of outrage, even as the spokesman politely chuckled. "What it means, beast, is that in striving for artifacts within Erovering, you overstepped your bounds. You put your pieces upon my board, and moved them in opposition to my own." Jess's grin turned fierce. "Any piece of yours I seize while we are in play is mine by default. A prize of war."
It was an odd victory, the rules of this unspoken game coming to her only as she spoke the words, yet the moment Jess uttered her declaration, she knew her mad assumption was correct.
Jess strode forward, blade held in tierce once more. "And if you do not unhand my prize this instant, that is grounds for trial by combat, winner take all by Right of Conquest." Jess gazed coolly at the widely grinning spokesman. "Does that not follow the Accords?"
“Indeed it does, Lady Jess. Indeed it does,” The demon indulgently assured, even as he turned his bemused gaze to his furious looking companion, whose porcelain features had completely cracked away like rotten eggshells in his frustrated outrage. “I am afraid you’ve lost this round, old friend.” The spokesman pointedly stared at the pile of ash and lily white rose petals, all that was left of the last demon that had challenged Jess. “Of course, you could always give challenge. Who knows? You might prove to be more fortunate than dear Zolias, though somehow I doubt it.”
The creature snarled, bulbous red eyes glaring at Jess. “Don’t underestimate me, spokesman! Zolias was a fool. All bluster, no skill. You know well my talents in the arena of discourse! I could tear this wench asunder, disembowel all her clever arguments with the cleaving brilliance of my rebuttals! Paint the contract of our dispute red with concessions 'til I drained her dry!”
The spokesman chuckled softly. “You are certainly quite the formidable lawyer, of that there can be no doubt. The sands of that most honorable institution are indeed stained crimson from the brilliance of your arguments. However, you might wish to reconsider disputing this particular matter.” He winked conspiratorially. “I know you are no fool, my friend. Do you still not recognize the significance of her blade of thorns, or her familiars?” A moment's heavy pause. “Or the significance of she who approaches, even as we speak?”
Twilight hissed, all his fur suddenly on end. There was a desperate intensity to his gaze Jess had never seen before. Her gut clenched in sudden dread, though she knew not why.
“Jess. We have to leave. Now!” Her familiar’s uncharacteristic urgency only heightened Jessica’s growing sense of dread.
“Release my prize or face my blade!" Jess snapped, boldly approaching the hideous beast still holding the terrified boy's soul captive. With the gentle song of the wood flowing through her, counterpoint to the terrible rage she felt that any would dare trespass upon her sacred home, Jess felt no fear as she approached the hideous beast. Twice her height, many times her mass, face writhing with maggots and sores, her foe's twisted eyes glared at Jess with seething hate bubbling from the blackened remnants of its soul.
And still, he refused to surrender his prize.
“You knew what Galeck was up to.” Jessica’s voice was little more than a soft whisper, yet it was sufficient to cause the terrible creature before her to draw his own sword cane with a snarl. “You knew about the machinations occurring at my college. The artifacts at play, the lives of all those students, to be sacrificed in the name of whatever vile schemes you and your cohorts had cooked up. And for what? To cause chaos within Erovering? To unearth dread artifacts that will unleash madness and nightmare throughout my home? Is it the death of thousands you and your kind crave so desperately, or merely to entice a few sorry fools to actually sign away their own souls in a mad bid for power, not caring who won or lost, as long as you got your due? Is that what this was all about? Answer me, maggot!”
The snarling monster roared. “What of it, you pathetic excuse for a Power? Those fools were open to the enticements we laid before them.” His icy smile filled young Jess with a towering fury, mocking her with his eyes even as he laughed in her face. “They signed their souls away willingly, and we will collect when they fall by spell or steel, even when they die by your own blade!”
Jess's laugh was tinged with a mad fury. She did not care that she was armed with naught but a slender sword of vine and thorn, wearing little more than the thinnest of leafy dresses, resilient as it was. She did not care that she was dancing at the edges of Hell itself. She knew only that a key player in the games that had caused such terror at Highrock was before her. A monster whose manipulations had resulted in her butchering so many in the defense of her friends, forcing her to face the horror of seeing Malek's haunted gaze as he stood upon death's door.
All the terror and struggle she had endured channeled itself into a dark wrath that transcended mere hate. Her slender hand clenched the hilt of her blade so tight it shook, taking fierce delight as the thorns embedded in her flesh, drinking deep of her terrible fury, her blade turning red, each thorn upon it weeping drops of her own crimson blood.
The crowd was struck speechless, even the souls in torment utterly silent. All was still, save for Jess's grim approach toward her prey, and the sound of terrible laughter, echoing through the courtyard, a sound both horrific and hauntingly familiar.
Jess felt her gut lurch, even through her toxic fury.
24
Jess, we must leave, now!” her familiar entreated.
Jess shook her head in fierce negation, caring only that her slow counterclockwise advance had caused her blustering foe to cautiously back away; heading, in fact, toward the entrance whence Jess had come, and away from the barrier beyond which she could go no further. Jess snarled. “When you enticed the people of Erovering to risk their very souls, sacrificing their lives in a cascade of death with deadly artifacts in play that put the citizens of my na
tion in peril, you declared yourself an enemy of Erovering, and an enemy of me!”
The creature before her shook his terrible horned head in furious negation. “You are twisting things around, wench! I did no such thing!”
Jess gazed coldly at the repugnant monster before her, smelling of rot and filth and the screaming death of a thousand lost souls.
“Yes you did, monster,” Jess declared, her soft childlike voice filled with quiet menace. “You have committed acts of war against my Domain and have violated treaties of noninterference! Thus I declare the Accords broken between your House and mine. I will take the soul you have seized, and every other soul you lay claim to, when I take your head!” Jess felt a dark shiver of terror and exhilaration ripple through her as she looked into the fierce red-eyed gaze of the beast before her and knew, without question, that battle was about to be joined.
“She is right, you know. You did overstep your bounds, little worm.” A mocking laugh. Terrible in its familiarity. Jess felt the weight of a hideously intimate gaze seem to peer into her very soul. “Now fight, maggot! You, who once conspired to rule, shall now test your blade against she who is as far beyond your station as a queen is to the most wretched of slaves!”
Her wolfhound gave a mournful howl even as Twilight hissed his extreme displeasure. “Focus, Jess!” Twilight snapped as she was momentarily distracted by her familiar’s sudden alarm and the terrible familiarity of that voice. “Focus and win! And the moment you do so, we leave with all haste!”
Howling with fury, the twisted monstrosity roared and charged, lashing out with blade and spell, cursing the very air even as his sword whistled in a tight deadly arc for Jessica’s head.
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