Shadow Slave: The Sound of Glass

They had made it for about fifteen minutes. Then One Eared Northwest, Scattered Northwestwest and Three Legged Southwest had closed up. Three Legged was a little behind. Southwestwest hadn't arrived. With the decapitated head its unholy resurrection had failed. The hounds seemed unreasonably ferocious and angry, considering that they had just died. And the reason for their anger was the person who had killed them. Waynie. "I mean, I just killed you in top condition. And now there are only three and all are injured. You can't possibly think that you can kill me."

Their uncorrupted corpses spew no longer fire. They were still massive but weaker in every regard. Waynie realized that he needed to decapacitate large bodies of flesh and summoned the 'Phantom Grasp'. It took Waynie a single swing. 'Phantom Grasp' only stopped for a split second, manifested inside Scattered Northwest's body, ripped through the throat and then took the momentum to also decapacitate One Eared Northwest. Then the Three Legged was alone. Waynie lunged for the last creature's head, and it tried to bite into the sword but there was just no resistance and no way for anyone to defend themselves against the offense of the weapon. Three Legged died as well. No message was going off from the Spell.

It was late in the day and the sun started to set slowly. Though mostly lifeless, the occasional vine or stubborn bush had managed to take root in the desolate soil. In the distance, the lava river they had crossed earlier bubbled and churned, its acrid fumes drifting unpleasantly toward them. The glass tears had fallen silent. Taking it as a sign that they were safe—at least for now—Waynie and Marx settled behind a small rock formation to rest for the night. They made no fire; drawing unnecessary attention was out of the question. The mountains were still a good distance away. From there it seemed like the mountains were behind a mist. Or rather the clouds of the volcanic ash. But here its tremendous power did not reach. Waynie struggled at the thought that there could be an actual giant being resting there. Marx explained to Waynie that the plan was to meet a government employee who was assigned to relegate information between them and Anvil. Which made Waynie ask himself several questions:

When did that happen? Did the clans have their own ambassadors too. Was there an Anvil and Ki Song embassy in the Waking World these days and were they now just being different countries?

"As far as I know, those aren't embassies. They just own areas within NQC. There was also a giant building complex owned by the Immortal Flame clan, but most of it is in the hands of private asset managers now. The area is mostly ruined. But I wouldn't go near there, it's no place for a Ki Song soldier, not even a deserter."

Waynie was too young to remember any of the older clans that Marx was talking about and Marx himself, was even younger and only knew because of his school education. But it did bother Waynie a little to be left behind in a conversation like this.

The next citadel was owned by the Mourning Clan. It was one, if not the closest citadel to Ravenheart that was not controlled by Ki Song directly, but by a vassal. The chances of meeting an actual saint there were low, because almost everybody was busy with the war inside the mountains and the last ones in the entire region likely only remained in the citadel of Ravenheart itself. It was the real source of why the world in the last weeks had succumbed to what was basically anarchy and a group of Awakened and a couple of master's could just on their own decide to hunt down poor Waynie.

The two of them travelled throughout most of the next day. The path ahead got more and more occupied by vegetation, small insects were buzzing around. There was no way to tell for certain, but Waynie was suspecting that even those little creatures had been corrupted. But they were too harmless to be really threatened by them. Waynie's hand and face had mostly healed but Marx arm remained in bad condition. For about the last hour Marx had repeated the same sentence over and over and Waynie grew desperate.

"Pineapple pizza is terrible. The rich and hearty flavor of pizza is a complete mismatch with something as sweet and acidic. "

"I'm not even disagreeing, we don't have to keep talking about this."

Marx seemed to contemplate Waynie's response for a second, then repeated.

"Pineapple pizza is terrible. The rich and hearty flavor of pizza is a complete mismatch with something sweet and acidic. "

"Listen… you're absolutely right. You don't even have to say anything. I'll agree with you if you are just quiet."

Marx was again lost in contemplation. His flaw tended to trigger in unpredictable ways. Sometimes it considered something he said to be merely information. Then he would not forget. But Waynie was slowly beginning to understand why Marx was actually really convincing. It was because most of the time he wouldn't stop talking until everyone who said 'yes' to him once, later completely agreed with him. Because in truth, pineapple pizza was just a personal choice.

Marx was shaking his head as if he was finally remembering what he had wanted to say.

 "That reminds me of something we haven't talked about before. Pineapple pizza is terrible. The rich and hearty flavor of pizza is a complete mismatch with something as sweet and acidic. "

"I understand. I understand."

Waynie was now resorting to short answers. He patiently waited for Marx to change his expression. His timing was slightly off. "Ok, say nothing. I agree. You see my thumb?"

Waynie held up his thumb and nodded at Marx approvingly. "You see this thumb. Always assume you were convincing. Don't say anything just be quiet."

It was not long after that they ran into a battalion. They were soldiers of the Mourning Clan, but some of them wore Song uniforms. Without the 'Tear of a wistful comrade' Waynie couldn't tell if they were friend or foe but, if at all possible, he didn't want to cause any trouble.

Upon Marx explanation, that the two wanted to anchor at the fortress, Master Skyworld, the leader of the battalion, frowned. She didn't object to the statement but seemed to think there was some kind of problem. Nevertheless, she seemed to accept to bring them before Master Cyane, the master of this territory in the absence of the Mourning Saint.

And so, the battalion escorted the two Song soldiers to the Barren castle.

For years, the castle had stood free of vegetation—until humans unknowingly carried the pollen and seeds of Godgrave's strange flora inside. Once those seeds took root, they spread with unnatural speed, overtaking the entire plateau.

A strange atmosphere settled over the area, as if whispers brushed against their ears. There were no distinct words, just an unsettling presence—an intrusive sensation that neither Waynie nor Marx could ignore.

"This feeling you have," one of the soldiers explained, "is caused by the Mourning Saint, Esmald. Even in her absence, the citadel carries her will. Were you closer, you would hear her words clearly."

Waynie had no interest in understanding what terrifying power allowed Saint Esmald to impose her thoughts upon the world. He didn't want to know.

Despite their unannounced arrival, the battalion showed no hostility. But the nauseating feeling of being watched made it hard for Waynie to keep balance and he had to wonder how those soldiers managed to keep themselves functioning.

"It's getting less intense when you accept her calling."

Waynie tried to call out to the saint but it did hardly help. There was no connection possible. Nevertheless, perhaps it was because this atmosphere made it hard to lie, that their battalion didn't feel very threatened by their unannounced presence. If they were harboring ill intentions, then the saint and Waynie and Marx themselves would have all certainly noticed through the strange way their thoughts were a little connected. Marx explained that they wanted to anchor in the citadel.

In the absence of the Mourning saint, it was her sister, legacy Master Cyane who ruled over the citadel.

"This is the wonderful 'Felled by Fang'. She can take on some attributes of a fox." This was the way that Skyworld introduced her.

Master Cyane, whose true name was 'Felled by Fang' bit her lip. She was not too happy about the revealing introduction. From their point of view, they were allies, but information was still 'need to know' and did not have to be lightly given to Waynie. Waynie himself understood and agreed with that sentiment.

Master Cyane the 'Felled by Fang' and Master Skyworld disappeared for a second and left the two men behind. Within the remaining battalion there was a noticeable absence of men in the ranks of their allies. And the longer they were here, the more the two pretty youngsters felt out of place in the presence of these beautiful strong women.

After a while Cyane came back from another room in the citadel and introduced herself. "It's so nice of Songs men to visit and to check up on us. "

Cyane wasn't referring to the gender, but to the fact that they hailed from the Song clan itself. And that she had no intention of denying them rest. But at the same time her eyes carried a question. Of why two soldiers of low rank had come to the Barren Castle. Marx had already thought of a story for situations like these and decided to tell her that they were on a diplomatic mission.

"Since you are so secretive, I don't intend to ask you more about it." Her reaction didn't indicate that she did believe Marx, but her response was nevertheless surprising. "But I have to inquire if you didn't know that our portal isn't active. You can't get to the Waking World from here."

The news came as a shock to Waynie and Marx, who both were more than eager to return to the old world and having spent the last years in the Dream Realm and worrying about its destruction. The truth was that Waynie was more than happy to evade the war and to leave this place behind right now. There was no conscription in the Waking World.

"My my, you two wouldn't happen to be deserters." Master Cyane seemed to be able to read his thoughts from his expression. Or perhaps it was the influence of Saint Esmald, that poured those thoughts into her head. Marx had twitched a little by her mentioning that.

"This war is quite unreasonable. I for my part fully appreciate the sentiment of not wanting to fight in the war. Aren't we all the same?" Master Cyane gave the two a bright smile.

What Master Cyane was referring to was the unnecessary slaughter between Awakened that kept reducing the human population and all of their chances of survival. Waynie did not really care about that at all. But it would've been uncalled for to say so in this situation.

"I think the only one who doesn't have a screw loose in this fight is Lady Nephis."

Waynie's face twitched a little. 'Has this woman just openly declared her support for an enemy commander?'

He felt, like the revelation should make him anxious but somehow instead it put him at peace.

"Don't misunderstand please. She is an enemy, and we are loyal to Ki Song, but she has been a beacon to think that this won't be the apocalypse, everyone sees coming."

"Pardon your excellency, Master Cyane, but aren't you committing treason by telling this to a Ki Song soldier?"

"Are you serious? Anvil started this war, but that doesn't mean that Lady Changing Star is to blame. There are lots of people in the Song army who think the same."

Marx who seemed to be perplexed over Waynie's surprise agreed with Master Cyanes notion. It wasn't illegal to support Lady Nephis.

Ultimately both sides had accepted each other's assurances to be loyal to Ki Song. Marx and Waynie had not managed to get permission to enter the Waking World through their portal. But they had been granted stay in one of the rooms at the castle.

There was a nice window towards the eastern entrance, a couple of chairs, two beds and a round table. The materials were carved from the local fauna. Waynie frowned. He still had not come to terms with the development of the situation. "Don't you think it's a little extreme, how they support Lady Nephis?"

"Maybe it is, maybe we are all under some kind of influence."

The strange feeling of constantly being watched hadn't disappeared when they were alone in the castle. The presence, or absence of Lady Esmald was confusing to the senses. Waynie was fairly certain that her reception of his thoughts was as disturbed as it was in return for him to receive her thoughts, but part of him felt as if she was talking about the deeds of Lady Nephis.

"How close have you been following the war?"

Waynie really avoided learning anything about the war at all. He felt that if he did, the higher command would inexplicably find a way to involve him in it. He knew about the mayor players in it. That Song had an overwhelming number of Saints and that there was no chance that they were losing.

"Marx, what if this woman, Lady Nephis is really corrupting the thoughts of our soldiers right here? What if, imagine if we suddenly lose twenty percent of our forces, because they all decide to follow Nephis? I'm not joking. And then the tide of the war tilts and Song is losing. Wouldn't that put all our families and friends lives at risk?"

Marx contemplated, dwelling on the question for a while, then finally a responded.

"Perhaps you are right. The theory isn't bad, but tell me Waynie, how come you aren't affected? Do you have some immunity to manipulation of thoughts and feelings? No, see? You're just overly paranoid."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Waynie paused for a while and stared at Marx intently, stars forming in his eyes.

"I named my first child after Nephis."

Marx gave him a sideways glance and didn't answer and then finally seemed to reconsider the question.

"There is a story in the government archives. One of the few publicly available sources about what life was like in the Dream World before us. This particular knowledge stems from a nightmare in the territory of Anvil at a place called the 'Chained Isles'. You won't know about it, but it was a huge uproar in the academic circles. A character appears in it called the Daemon of Hope. And this character had slowly corrupted their entire civilization by amplifying their emotions. What if that Lady Nephis, Lady Changing Star has become so powerful that she can do the same or something similar?"

Waynie frowned. "But would her powers really reach us here? Far away from the battle? Even if they are being affected, it doesn't mean that they will later betray Ki Song. I think you're too nervous."

"Perhaps not." Marx admitted. "But... what about the Mourning Saint, Mrs. Esmald? She and all of Song's soldiers are in Godgrave."

"So then…" Waynie's voice trailed off. "It might be the connection to the citadel that is corrupting people's minds here."

"I don't know but did you hear about that Lord that lives in Godgrave?"

"The Lord of Shadows."

"The news said he joined Anvil." Marx's voice dropped lower. "And it was because of Lady Nephis."

Suddenly Waynie's face turned grim. "Bro that's not a human. I saw that thing. It was some kind of creature. A creature much more powerful than a saint. If he has joined Nephis.."

Marx stiffened. "Wait, how would you know the Lord of Shadows?"

"You remember when I told you about the 'E1' shard? That was when I met him."

Cold terror started to settle on Marx's face now too as if he suddenly started to remember that he was still a soldier who was on duty but in absence to take care of Ravenheart's defense. Waynie as well was hoping that Marx would return to the city and his wife's and children's defense. He was reasonably confident that Marx could keep them safe, but had refrained from pushing him to return while his arm was still injured, and he would have had to explain the source of the injury. But now he already seemed much better.

"Marx, how's your injury?"

Marx rolled his shoulder, testing the movement of his arm. "It's fine."

"Then would you go back to Ravenheart? Warn them—tell them something's happening that could turn the tide of the war?"

Marx nodded, a quiet determination settling over him. In truth, Waynie had turned his back to Ravenheart out of necessity. Not because he harbored any grudges. Or even worse, would have wanted the city destroyed. His whole life was there. Still waiting, perhaps for the end of the war. If there was a place left to go back to. No, Marx really had to fix this.

"What about you?" he asked.

Waynie hesitated. "Me, I can stay here until you have resolved my situation with the guard as well."

Marx gave him a skeptical look. "I don't think I can do that."

Waynie exhaled. "Then I'm at a loss. Is there any alternative to defect to Anvil?"

"You will know that better than I. You're a master after all." Marx said.

Waynie let out a short, humorless laugh. "Let's do it like this. I will wait for you for three days here and will try to find a way to contact someone from Anvil. Meanwhile you go back, try to fix everything and come back here. If you fail to come back, I'll flee over the border into the territory of Godgrave. Ki Song shouldn't follow into there."

"All right, then we'll see each other in three days."

Waynie felt a hollow ache in his chest. The thought of truly defecting—leaving everything behind—didn't sit well with him.