The Lord of Veins | Shadow Slave

The bedrooms of the Cathedral were well furnished by the residents. Men and women that couldn't offer their power or hand to the six cohorts were positioned to maintain the Cathedral for their stay, and they were called residents of the Cathedral.

After recent events of the battle between Dex and Hera, the Cathedral was back under control of the Cohorts. The fighters were taken into bedrooms where they were assigned healers and were currently being maintained by them.

In a chamber, Dex lay motionless on his back upon a narrow cot, unconscious. The scent of medicinal herbs clung to the air as a healer, meticulous in her craft used her aspect to empower the herbs effects.

She began removing his boots—sturdy, well-worn things that had seen a grave beating. Hera's aspect seemed to causes a rippling effect to his armor not a single mundane piece was salvageable. Then, with careful hands she continued, unfastening the straps securing his chainmail leggings. But after she stripped away the brittle armor that secured his lower half, something unexpected happened.

Inky-black strands of silk slithered down his body, whose source was the dark silken memory that secured his chest. They slid down his torso, coiling around the rest of his body, and in moment, they had wrapped him entirely, cocooning his body in a sheath of darkness.

The healer stumbled back in surprise.

"What in the hells?"

Finally, after a while the strands settled at a state of rest. Swallowing her unease, she reached out fingers trembling as they brushed against the silk. The silk resisted her touch, pulling tighter around his body.

"Stubborn thing," she muttered.

Her eyes flickered upward, her heart suddenly sinking in her chest.

His face was gone. The black strips of his memory had slithered over his features, molding to the shape of his skull, mummifying him.

She inched closer. Hesitantly, she reached for his chin, fingertips grazing the surface. It was smooth and hard. The layered silk strands were like hardened resin.

She was nervous for his safely as it appeared that under this mask he couldn't have possibly been able to breathe. So she began to pick at the mask.

But suddenly, his head lifted ever so slightly.

A chill raced down her spine. A presence clouded the room before settling over her. It was as though the unseen had turned its full attention upon her.

"I'm… I'm trying to help you…" She whispered, struggling to get the words out.

But from Dex, no answer came.

Instead, in a sudden burst of motion, his hand shot out grasping the hand on his face, seizing her wrist.

She gasped, a sharp cry escaping her lips as his fingers tightened, iron-strong. She was pulled forward, forced to meet the gaze of the black mask that covered his face. Through there were no eyes seen in the sockets of the mask, but she could still fell them, their pressure burrowing into her very being.

"Please! Let me go!" She yelped.

She struggled, finally wrenching herself free. Staggering back, she clutched her wrist to her chest, her breath coming in ragged gulps. The being in the room with her held an inhuman intensity that she never felt before, it made the chamber feel impossibly small.

And he said nothing. It just sat up in the bed focusing its gaze upon her, the moonlight framing whatever darkness that took a hold of him.

That was all it took.

Fear spiked through her veins, and without another thought, she spun and fled, bursting through the doors as though the very devil was on her heels.

She ripped down the hall, before reaching the end of the hall she collided into someone, falling on the ground on her bottom.

"Valery…" A deep exhale left the man.

She raised her head looking up at him, fear was evident in her features. "I'm sorry, Sir Eamon… I… I…"

Eamon noticed her face of fear and his steel gaze softened. "Calm down…"

She shook her head as she looked up at him, her elbow propping her up as she turned back down the hall. "There is a devil!"

"Huh? A devil?" Eamon eyes widened as he summoned his sword.

Eamon was surprised as it couldn't be possible for a Devil to enter the Cathedral unnoticed.

"Where!" He commanded immediately, holding his sword tight.

"In his room! He is the devil!" She began to sit up as she clung to his cloak.

"He is the devil?" Eamon looked at her with confusion and disbelief, but her fear seemed genuine.

"Take the night off, Valery."

Eamon walked past her, but she still clung to his cloak.

"Sir, what are you going to do?" She said as she trembled.

Eamon stopped, "I am going to see this 'devil' you were talking about."

Her eyes widened as she looked at his back, slowly releasing his cloak.

"Go meet with Seraphina… She is good company." Eamon walked down the hall.

It was silent in this hall, but it wasn't anything eerie by itself as this hall held only Dex.

Eamon could understand Valery's fear some what, isolated in a hall with just her and a client, but what if there was an actual Devil? What would that mean for the protections placed upon the Cathedral?

Eamon shook his head. They should still have several months before that became a worry.

Eamon arrived at the door, reached for the door hand, holding his blade in his other hand tightly as he slowly peeked through the door before pushing it open. The warm glow from the hallway spilled in, stretching across the floor until it reached him—blond hair catching the light, his blue eyes holding an innocent naivety as he sat on the bed.

Eamon sighed, loosening his grip on his sword. "Some devil you are."

Dex squinted against the brightness. His body from his neck down was covered in his darkened mummifying memory.

"Devil?"

Eamon raised his blade lightly pointing it at Dex from across the room. His surgical gaze locked onto him, his voice laced with a bit of irritation. "Why scare the people that are trying to help you?"

Dex blinked. He raised a hand rubbing the back of his head. "Me? i just woke up."

Eamon's eyes narrowed. He studied Dex for a moment before shaking his head with a exhale. "Whatever. Just don't do it again. The residents work too hard."

Dex looked at the man, before he then spoke up. "Who are you?"

"Eamon," he stated plainly. "The leader of the Cohort of Justice. The one in charge of you now."

The claim was harsh against Dex's ears. "Since when did I agree to this?"

Eamon's lips curled into something between amusement and impatience. "When you lost to Hera. She is unable to direct you right now. So, I am positioned to do such as we have duties to fulfill for the people."

Dex hands balled into a fist in his lap. "Yeah, yeah. I know I lost. You don't have to remind me." He then lifted his eyes looking at Eamon. "But seriously—how the hell was I ever suppose to win against that?"

Eamon eyed him as he was unimpressed. "Not my problem. Now, gather yourself. Your ally is requesting you."

***

Eamon led Dex through the hallways, until they reached a quiet chamber tucked away.

"She's inside, Eamon said, nodding toward the door in front of him. There was a knowing glint in his eyes that left Dex uneasy.

"Take your time catching up." He added.

Dex took a step forward. He pressed his palm to the door pushing it open. The hinges creaked softly as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

The chamber was modest yet inviting, bathed in the silver glow of the moonlight spilling through a tall, arched window. Shadows flickered along the stone walls where a fire burned low. Esmeray stood near that very window, her silhouette outlined against the deep indigo sky. The faint icy breeze whispered through the open window, the chilly air toying with the strands of her short brown hair.

She didn't turn at his entrance, but he could tell she was very well aware of his presence. Her shoulders lifted with a slow exhale, as she had braced herself.

"You seem to be settling in well," Dex remarked, his eyes sweeping the space—the neatly made bed, the stack of well-worn books piled atop a small table, the lingering scent of lavender from a nearby bundle of dried flowers.

Everything about the room felt odd, carefully placed, as if to conjure up the feeling of comfort.

Esmeray finally glanced around as if seeing it anew, with a graceful twirl that would have caught the gazes of the average person. "Its nice, isn't it?" she murmured, almost to herself. Then, with a slight tilt of her head, she added, "I hope they're treating you well too… If your room isn't up to par, you're welcome to sleep here."

Dex smirked, "Need to keep your dog on a leash?"

Esmeray shook her head taking offense to his words. "You are not my dog… You are my partner remember?"

His smirk faltered, "Right…"

Esmeray studied him for a while before approaching him, reaching for his hand with a look that was unexpected. Her look of amusement softening into something quieter. "I'd like for you to keep me company, tonight."

Dex pulled his hand back, his expression darkening into something far less forgiving. "Is that suppose to pull me in? Or is this a way of you thanking me? Because if it is, I don't want it."

Esmeray brought her hand back to her side. "No, its not that—I…"

Dex scoffed bewildered. "This isn't time to mess around, Esmeray being in this cathedral doesn't change anything for me, I still have things I need to do."

She pursed her lips, holding back the words she wanted to say, but she then gave in. "He is dead, Dex."

Dex felt as if he was displaced in his body for a moment, he didn't believe it for a second, and even if it was true it wouldn't stop him.

Dex's jaw tightened. "Then I'll find his corpse."

Silence stretched past the moment after his unbelievable statement. The fire crackled in the hearth, a single ember snapping.

"You are unbelievable! You know that!?" Esmeray said her face contorting in frustration.

Dex was silent staring directly at her.

Esmeray ran a hand through her brown hair. "I tried… I tried to find him, I did everything I could and I can't find him."

Dex turned away from her taking a step to the door. "Thank you, Esmeray… I truly appreciate your help and your effort, but I am not done, I will keep searching until I am certain."

She huffed, folding her arms, turning her head away from him. "You are impossible."

Dex stopped for a moment, but then he continued through the door, lightly shutting it behind him. But even with that light force, the few brittle petals from the dried flowers placed on the table drifted to the floor.

***

Eamon straightened from where he lounged against the stone wall, arms crossed. his eyes tracked Dex's exit, watching every tense movement.

"That was quick," he mused, his head leaning forward slightly as he peeled off the wall.

Dex didn't break stride. In a single, fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, his hand fisting in Eamon's collar before slamming him against the stone wall.

"I don't know what the hell you think this is, but I am not the loyal servant type." Dex said, eyes locked onto Eamon's. "I have my own goals, and that is my priority. So in the meantime go ahead, send me out to handle whatever business you desire—but the moment I find what I am searching for, I am walking away, regardless if I have to walk through you."

Eamon refused to flinch. He shoved Dex off of him, adjusting his collar with a calm casualness.

"Didn't go so well in there did it?" he commented coldly before lowering his balled up fists to his side.

Eamon closed his eyes, calming himself.

"Well… Prepare yourself then, for there is a monster I need you to kill."