The catgirl looked up at Frey, who was in front of her, sitting against the trunk of a fallen tree and staring into the depths of the fire; he watched the flickering flames as if he could divine some mysterious truth in them. His hands played idly with the flints he used to light the fire; lit from below, the severe angles of his face seemed as roughly carved as the granite wall of a cliff. The oscillations of the fire made the shadows chase each other across her cheeks. The light reflected off the pupil of her eyes, which shone with inhuman sparkles like a star. Beside him lay Kat, motionless and breathing regularly, apparently asleep on Frey's crimson cloak which was spread out on the ground.
The sight of Frey taking care of Kat brought a strange question to Elysia's mind. What would Frey be like as a father? If they had children, how would he treat them?
Frey felt Elysia watching him, and she looked up at him.
"What's troubling you, Elysia?"
Catgirl averted her eyes from the fire. The bright afterimage of the flames negated her night vision, but she still searched the shadows beneath the trees for any sign that there were hidden observers. The image of the unsuspecting inhabitants of Kleinsdorf slipping into bed with the forces of darkness creeping up on them formed in her mind without warning. She searched for something to answer him with, and decided on the truth.
“I'm actually…, I'm a bit worried, Frey. For some strange reason, what we saw in that town has terrified me; my sixth sense keeps screaming at me that this place is dangerous.”
“Fear is for cowards and children, Elysia. You were a warrior.”
"You don't really believe what you just said, do you?"
Frey smiled, and in the firelight his expression brimmed with confidence.
"Yes."
“You don't expect me to truly believe that the strong and grown-ups are never afraid, do you? Or is it champions and heroes that know no fear?
“Believe what you want, Elysia. Anyway, I didn't say that. Only a fool or a maniac does not know fear; only a child or a coward allows his fear to dominate him. A true warrior is distinguished by mastering the fear he feels."
“The destruction of the village hasn't scared you? Aren't you afraid, now? There's something out there, Frey; something evil and powerful.”
The dark hero laughed.
"Nope. I am a Warder, Elysia. I was born to die in combat. There is no place for fear in my life.”
Elysia shook her head, as she didn't know if Frey was making fun of her. She was getting used to Frey's erratic mood swings and she was beginning to suspect that there were times when the dark hero displayed something close to a sense of humor.
Frey put the flints into his backpack and gripped the hilt of the greatsword Lævateinn.
“Rest easy, Elysia. You can do nothing for the dead, and if what has killed them is predestined to find us, you can do nothing to prevent it either.
"And that's supposed to reassure me?"
Suddenly, the atmosphere of camaraderie evaporated as quickly as it had been formed, and anger burned in Frey's voice as he spoke again.
“No, Elysia, you don't have to; but believe me what I am going to tell you: if I find the murderers, they will pay in blood. An evil similar to what we have witnessed today will not go unpunished.”
At that moment, there was no trace of human feeling in Frey's voice, and looking into the deep eyes of her mate, Elysia saw the madness, the burning inhuman violence that was waiting to erupt. She just for a second believed Frey's words and shared her insane conviction that she could take on the Dark Powers that had destroyed the village. She then remembered the colossal magnitude of the damage caused, and the moment passed.
No warrior, not even one as powerful as Frey, could resist something like that. She shivered and pulled her cloak closer around her.
To hide the anxiety she felt, she leaned down and added more fuel to the fire. The thin stems withered and caught fire, and the sparks began to creep up. Acrid smoke stung her eyes as lichen-covered branches began to burn. She wiped her tears from the smoke and spoke to fill the silence.
“What do you know about beastmen? Do you believe the story the girl tells about the attack on the village?”
"Why not? You are half beastman and you are notoriously aggressive. Many times throughout history, his hordes have attacked cities.”
Bitterly, Elysia nodded. She knew that every once in a while her primal instincts got the better of her. "The churches preach that the beasts were mere mutants, exiled humans who had devolved into beastmen, altered by the power of darkness."
Frey shook his head as if he despaired because of the stupidity of humanity.
With a dry stick, Elysia tried to fan the flames of the campfire before continuing her explanation. “These mutants follow the hordes as lackeys or adepts, but the beastmen themselves are a group of different races totally independent of humans, whose origins date back to the time of the first incursions of the dark gods in this world, from the times when the Dark Powers first ventured to afflict this sad world. They could well be the children of the dark powers.”
With a serious expression, Frey fixed his gaze on his partner. "Elysia, you are not like them."
Clenching his hands into fists, and unable to resist Frey's gaze on her, he directed her eyes to the ground. "I'm not so sure, Frey," she commented. “Lately, being that I am no longer the same, I have changed. I am more aggressive, more ruthless, the battle makes my heart beat faster, and every time I take down an enemy I feel my body foreign. Frey, I'm not sure what I am. I feel like I'm turning into a monster."
“Maybe, I've noticed the change, but don't worry. No matter what you become, you will still be Elysia."
Salivating, Elysia kept her gaze fixed on a small ant on the ground. “I have heard stories that many werebeasts aided the Dark Lords in their mission to bring misfortune to the world. It is said that they made up the bulk of the troops that attacked the North two centuries ago. It is said that the commanders of that Dark lord were powerful beastmen who rose to become Demonic Knights.”
“I'm not surprised, Elysia. Beastmen worship strength, it is part of their nature; I heard that beyond the Kaleth Empire, sharing a border with the Minotaur Kingdom, there are three powerful nations that dominate the center of the continent, they are known as the Triumvirate alliance, it is said that these nations are countries ruled by beastmen.
"Yes, the rumors are true," Elysia uttered as she nodded bitterly. “My mother is from that place. They are nations where humans, and other similar humanoids, are cattle. Although it was my mother's home, I am not drawn to that place.”
"Any reason is specific?"
“I don't hate humans, I'm just being a little awkward. But I have never seen them as food, the mere fact of the possibility of eating human flesh makes my stomach turn."
"It's understandable, after all, you're half human, right?"
"If you're right…"
"But..." Elysia was interrupted by Frey's sudden word. "If the situation calls for it, you must do it, if it is what you need to do to survive, remorse must not stop you."
At that moment, those words provoked a vision in Elysia. "Frey..." Elysia started. "What do you think of Demonic Knights?"
“Demonic Knights are among the most powerful warriors to walk this world. I hope that the story of the human girl is true and that she will soon be able to face those warriors in black armor. It would be a worthy fight and, if necessary, a worthy death.”
"It sure would be" replied Elysia, who fervently wished that this situation would not occur. Any circumstance she could imagine involving Frey's death at the hands of a Demonic Knight would undoubtedly lead to her own end soon after.
"And what about the girl?" she whispered she then she. “Do you think that is what she claims to be her? Couldn't she be in cahoots with the attackers?"
“She's just a human girl, Elysia. She doesn't have the stench of the Dark Ones, demons have a very distinctive smell, she should learn to identify it. If she was a domain or something similar, she would have already killed her.”
“You said they were black armored warriors” Elysia began “You have abnormally powerful black armor. Are you a Demonic Knight?
Picking the wax out of his ear, Frey shrugged. “Does the answer matter?”
"Yes, it does matter" Elysia began to tremble slightly, she was nervous about the answer.
“Maybe yes… or maybe no; I think it depends a lot on your point of view. Just be content knowing that you are not my enemy.”
At that moment, those words provoked a vision in Elysia. “Frey… If these new urges, if what is hidden within me arises, if my instincts overpower me and cause me to become a Demonic Knight; or the gods forbid, in a Dark Lord. What will I do?"
“Listen to me carefully, Elysia,” Frey uttered in a powerful voice brimming with confidence. “If you become a Dark Lord, what you do or don't do is up to you. Remember these words: With great power comes great responsibility.”
To her horror, Elysia noticed that Kat's eyes were wide, and that she was watching them both with a frightened expression. Her eyes met, and the catgirl was embarrassed to see such enormous fear in the eyes of someone she had already suffered as much as she had. She got up, walked around the fire, pulled her worn cloak over her, and tucked her in.
"Go to sleep," she told him. "You are safe." She wanted to believe it herself.
He saw that Frey's eyes were closed, but his hand was firmly on the hilt of his sword, so he lay down on the leaves he had piled up to form his bed, and for a long time he gazed at the stars that gleamed coldly through the sky. the branches. When she fell asleep, her sleep was restless and old nightmares haunted her.
"You have failed, my love," said Salthor, a Demon Lord in the service of Baal, the dark god of Wrath, despair, and vengeance, calmly. He looked at her through her usurped eyes, and Jasmine felt a shudder run through her to the core of her being.She backed away, for he was well aware of the punishments her patron could inflict on him when he was displeased. Instinctively, her fingers closed around the ruby hilt of her black warsword. She shook her head and her great mane of white-streaked black hair ruffled. She felt helpless. Even though she had a small army of beastmen at her service, she knew there was nothing they could do to help her. In the presence of her boss, no one could help her, no one. She was glad that the old beastman shaman, Grind, and his acolytes had withdrawn beyond the Altar when she finished the invocation, for she did not wish to have witnesses to her defeat."Everyone in the village is dead, as we both decided" she lied, knowing it was useless.
Jasmine made her way through the throng of her followers to take her place on the carved wooden throne, and once on it she rested the bare sword across her on her legs and faced the mightiest of the ranks. horde. The sword was to all present a reminder of how she ruled, a naked symbol of her power. She had the favor of the Baal, the dark god of Wrath, despair and revenge; and the expression of that favor was the power she wielded. The beastmen might not like her, but they would have to put up with her until one of them, according to her early code, could best her in single combat. And none would challenge her if she had any sense, for they all knew of Salthor's prophecy, made when she was promoted to the ranks of the Demonic Knight. They all knew what the demon had said: that no warrior would ever defeat her in combat. They had all witnessed that truth, though they were beastmen anyway, and defying their leader was an instinctive purpose for them.That night she almost wished
“Wake up, Elysia! Something is coming!”Elysia came out of her doze, her mind still cluttered with remnants of haunting dreams, shaking her head to clear it, her neck and back aching from lying on the cold forest floor. The chill had broken through the insulation provided by the leaves of the trees and drained the strength from her body. She got slowly to her feet, rubbed her sleepy eyes, and, as quietly as she could, drew her sword and looked around her.Frey stood close to her, like a solid statue frozen in the dim light of the dying fire. The red glow of the embers reflected on the blade of the sword, and it seemed that the dark hero held a blood-painted weapon in his hands.Elysia looked up at the sky, and saw that the moon had almost set. Fortunately, dawn was not far off."What is it about?" she asked, but her voice caught in her throat and came out as a raspy whisper. She didn't need to see Frey's alert posture to know that something wa
Kat moved under the bushes. She didn't want to, but the fascination of horror made her look outside again. She knew that the beasts were coming, she could feel it, for the air carried the same sensation that she had felt the night before. She looked at her two benefactors of hers and felt sorry for them, because they were going to die. Although her appearance was frightening, they had tried to help her and they did not deserve the death that the beasts would give them.She looked at Elysia and saw that her beautiful features were torn between hopeless fear and savage exultation. She understood how that could happen, because she had felt the same way when Karl had driven his car too fast down the path full of sprouting roots; she was kind of itchy, excited, scared and happy at the same time. However, Elysia did not seem very happy, and that was the difference.The dark hero did look like it, as he laughed slightly in a psychotic way. Kat was sure that she had noticed hi
She was still alive. Elysia repeated that phrase to herself like a mantra.She had passed through the terror and out the other side, and her enemies, the monsters who had wanted to kill her, were dead. And she was still there to feel the sun, draw in her lungs, and watch Frey and Kat as they moved cautiously down the hill, putting their feet on the stones that protruded from the mud of the steep, slippery path.Her senses had been heightened and she felt more alive and energized than ever; it was as if she had leveled up. It was just a delight to be the sensation.Cobwebs glittered with drops of early morning dew, birds sang, and everywhere the bustle of life filled the forest. Small animals moved through the undergrowth, and Elysia paused to let a snake cross the path without making any attempt to kill it. That morning she had a clear notion of how precious and fragile life was.The fight with the beastmen had made him understand how precariously he clun
The arrow struck the trunk of the tree next to Elysia, and he stood there vibrating. The catgirl looked around with fierce eyes, sniffing the air and probing the tall grasses. Had the beasts come back to catch up with them? Why hadn't they just killed them?Elysia looked at the black feathers on the arrow's tail, and thought that the spear couldn't have belonged to a beastman, since it didn't look like the kind of weapon one of them would wield, and Kat hadn't mentioned seeing one armed with one. bow. Goosebumps rose at the threat of danger, and she strained her senses to see if she could hear anything; but all she heard was the wind in the branches of the trees, the song of the birds and the noise of the distant river."That was a warning shot," she yelled at them in a harsh, uneducated voice. "Don't come any closer."Upwind, Elysia thought. “The goalkeeper is upwind. Very professional." Her own thought had no doubt just occurred to Frey when he glared at
An old man sat cross-legged on a reed mat near the door of a log cabin, smoking a long curved pipe. He and a boy were playing checkers with pebbles on a board drawn in the dirt. He raised his eyes from the game and regarded Elysia with a woodsman's heightened suspicion of strangers, before blowing several columns of smoke rings into the air. Messner nodded to him, and the old man responded with an elaborate wave of his left hand. "Is he warding off the evil eye?" Elysia wondered. “or communicating something to the other through sign language?” He surveyed the small town with interest, paying special attention to the burly men carrying large two-handed axes. Their faces were covered in multicolored tattoos, and their eyes were narrow and watchful. They stomped through the muddy streets in their tall, fur-trimmed boots; they had the arrogant confidence of a champion of the Theocracy but without their distinguished chastity, for they sometimes stopped to gossip with the fat mer
Kat hurried toward the base of the watchtower because she felt the need to be alone. She had grown tired of sitting by the large central bonfire, and not even Frey's presence reassured her. She felt very alone in the midst of all those busy adults; in reality, there was no one with whom she could talk, and for the first time she realized that she no longer knew anyone in this world and that she had no place in it. Her flames reminded him too much of the Kleinsdorf fires. The ladder barely creaked under her bare feet as she climbed toward the trapdoor with the agility of a monkey.Elysia was sitting alone, and she was looking into the darkness. She had long since set the sun like a bloodstain on the horizon; the moon had risen through the sky, its silvery light bathing the surroundings. A gentle breeze cooled Kat's cheeks and made the forest whisper and murmur ominously. Elysia watched him mesmerized, lost in her own thoughts, and she hurried across the tower and sat down besi
“Take the sword!” Elysia yelled at him.But the stunned Frey was in no condition to heed the advice, and besides, he wanted to spill blood. He took an unsteady step toward Oleg, who was standing where he had left him, howling as he clutched his nose. Then, hearing Frey's staggering footsteps, she looked up and let out a tremendous bellow of anger and pain. He rushed toward his foe, crouching low and arms outstretched, intending to once again ensnare the dark hero in a deadly embrace. Frey remained where he was as the monster charged into a thunderous race towards him, as unstoppable as a runaway horse-drawn chariot.Elysia didn't want to look… The mutant was big enough to crush Frey, but she couldn't look away in horror.Oleg reached where Frey was. His massive arms began to close, but at the last second Frey ducked and dove between the monster's legs, then spun around and lashed out with the chain, which wrapped around the mutant's ankle. Fre
"Ulber?" I ask. Ulber Roger?"Do not call me that way!" The man's voice approached the scream. "Address me as 'Sir'.""Do you know this idiot?" Frei asked.Elysia nodded. Ulber Roger was a philosophy friend of Elysia's owner before the catgirl had murdered her mistress and escaped from her. He had been a quiet young man, very studious and could always be found in libraries according to his mistress. He had probably never exchanged more than a dozen words with her in the two years he had been friends with her mistress. He also remembered that Roger had vanished. There was a bit of a scandal… something to do with some missing library books, and he also remembered that some Inquisitors had shown interest."Stop!" Roger yelled at him in his thin, irritating voice. "You are my prisoners and you will do as I command for the remainder of your wretched lives."“Will we do as you bid us for the rest of our worthless lives?” Elysia looked
Elysia noticed that all the patrons were looking at the innkeeper strangely, as if he had spoken at the wrong time, or said something they had never expected him to say. But she dismissed that thought. Maybe they were just scared. Who wouldn't be with a servant of the Dark Powers housed in the castle that overlooked the town?“He is wicked like a dragon with a toothache. Isn't that right, Helmut?"The peasant the innkeeper had just spoken to froze in place like a rat staring at a snake."Isn't that right, Helmut?" the innkeeper repeated."It's not so bad," replied the farmer. "Considering how evil warlocks are.""Why don't you storm the castle?" Frey asked, and Elysia thought that if the dark hero couldn't guess the answer from the beaten-dog looks of those louts he was more stupid than he looked."Because the monster is there, sir" replied the farmer at the same time that he dragged his feet and looked at the floor again."The
The idea must occur to readers of these pages from time to time that my companion and I were under the influence of some curse.Without any effort on our part, and without any desire on my part, we managed to meet all manner of worshipers of the Dark Ones. I myself often suspected that we were really doomed to oppose his plans without ever understanding why; but such speculation never bothered the Dark Hero.Frey took all such events as they came, with a groan and a resigned shrug, and dismissed any such speculation as that of a useless and vain philosopher.However, I have thought long and hard on the matter, and I have the feeling that if there is a power in this world that opposes the servants of evil, perhaps it was the one who sometimes guided our steps and even protected us. What is certain is that we often stumbled upon some of the most outrageous and malevolent schemes perpetrated by the most unlikely of evildoers...Elysia, 'The Adventures of the
The desire to kill reverberated through Jasmine's brain, and the darkness rooted in her soul threatened to overtake her completely. Madness bubbled through her veins, and bloodlust flooded her as if she were a drug; her carnage gave him ecstatic pleasure. She wanted to find the black-armored warrior and kill him, for of all the enemies she had faced, he was the most powerful: a worthy offering indeed to the god of Wrath. At the last second, when she was about to brush aside his sword and kill him, her fate, in the form of her own idiotic followers of hers, had intervened to separate them. She wanted to find him again and finish the fight.And then she saw the girl. As if against her will, she gazed at the frightened little face that peeked out from where she was hiding. He knew what he had to do, because it was time to end this once and for all, to take the first step on the path that would end in eternal life, to take advantage of the opportunity offered to him of a glorious
Jasmine watched as the great cannon blasted the third breach in the city wall, then decided enough was enough. They had to save powder for the next fortification they came to, and the gaps were big enough for their soldiers to squeeze through. The defenders were tired and bewildered, so the time had come. She signaled to the bugler, and he sounded the advance blast. Marching to the beat of the human-skinned drums, the beastmen sprang into motion.Jasmine felt the thirst for blood rise within her, and with it, her desire to offer souls to the god of Wrath. She that night she would make him a great offering.♦ ♦ ♦Elysia watched as the tide of beastmen surged across the grounds, and archers began firing from the ramparts. They chose their targets calmly, methodically, and efficiently, and fired. Arrows pierced the darkness, piercing chests, throats, and bestial eyes. As the infernal drums beat, the relentless bloodthirsty beastmen continued to adva
Elysia watched the clouds overhead, racing across the sky like a mass that twisted and undulated in a strong wind. The color of the forest had changed from a light green to a darker, more ominous hue; she seemed as if the trees, like everything else, were waiting.She was standing on the parapet at the top of the wooden wall, and she was looking across the fields, straining to catch any sign of movement in the undergrowth. By her calculations, it was the end of the afternoon. Next to her was Frey, who was looking at his sword with disinterest. Every ten paces along the wall there was an archer, one of the woodcutters, men who could hit an ox's eye from two hundred paces, and measuring the distance between them and the line of trees, Elysia realized. realized that this was a slaughterhouse. Any attackers would get bogged down in the plowed fields and be easy targets for archers.She tried to let that thought reassure her, but she couldn't. Night in the woods was not lik
Elysia looked up at the ornate golden hammer that gleamed in the early morning light streaming through the open door of the temple. The runes etched into the Hammer's head reminded him of the ones adorning the blade of her own sword, but that didn't surprise him too much. Her sword had been the most prized possession of an Order of paladins and it seemed only fitting that the sword be engraved with holy signs.There were few people present; only some old women who were sitting cross-legged on the floor and praying. The babies with their mothers were outside, getting the cool while they could, and Elysia guessed the air might be unbreathable in there with the doors closed.The temple was a simple sanctuary with a simple altar, except for the presence of the Hammer, which was used to bless marriages and contracts. The Father, The Mother and The Son were not very popular deities there, since most of the woodcutters looked to Belial, Lord of the Forests and God of the Eart
Kat hurried toward the base of the watchtower because she felt the need to be alone. She had grown tired of sitting by the large central bonfire, and not even Frey's presence reassured her. She felt very alone in the midst of all those busy adults; in reality, there was no one with whom she could talk, and for the first time she realized that she no longer knew anyone in this world and that she had no place in it. Her flames reminded him too much of the Kleinsdorf fires. The ladder barely creaked under her bare feet as she climbed toward the trapdoor with the agility of a monkey.Elysia was sitting alone, and she was looking into the darkness. She had long since set the sun like a bloodstain on the horizon; the moon had risen through the sky, its silvery light bathing the surroundings. A gentle breeze cooled Kat's cheeks and made the forest whisper and murmur ominously. Elysia watched him mesmerized, lost in her own thoughts, and she hurried across the tower and sat down besi