Ch237: Dreams, Memories, or Reality? [??? POV]

Cold wind blows across this endless expanse of ice and snow, flakes of frost billowing about on that biting, blustering breeze.

An intense, razor-sharp chill fills the thin air, each shaky breath sapping strength and heat from the small child trying to brave this cold. The many layers of thick and warm pelts wrapped so snugly around her almost feel as if they aren’t there, yet without them...

“Do you see it?”

Glittering, glacial crystals cling to the fluffy furs that surround the young girl’s face, those shiny specks going ignored as she searches this snowy wasteland for what that reassuringly firm voice wants her to find. The unrelenting, agonizing glare of the midnight sun forces her gemstone green eyes into a pained squint, but even then... she still spots what she is looking for, a mittened hand lifting up and pointing into the distance. Towards the horizon, towards...

Towards a small patch of darkness that stands amidst the snow, so far away as to be nothing more than a mere speck of black staining the infinite white. Yet still that sight is enough to make this young child shiver and shudder, more than the cold ever could.

Unease sinks its claws into her heart, dread gnaws at her bones.

A stray, swirling eddy approaches that patch, powered darkness rising from the tainted icefields... carried further, carried away, carried closer–!

Strong fingers clasp onto her shaking shoulder, a hand larger than her head keeping the small child from taking a stumbling step back... gripping too tightly to be comfortable.

“Remember this sight. Remember the black snow.” That somber and serious voice... wavers ever so slightly, a tinge of pleading desperation creeping through the cracks. “No matter what you do, never go near it. Never touch it. Never consume it. Avoid the black snow and all that it clings to by whatever means necessary. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes Papa!” The little girl squeaks, trembling to the point where she can hardly stay standing, barely able to breathe.

The hand that should be reassuring squeezes tighter still, almost painfully so. “What will you do if you see black snow while out on a hunt?” The voice insistently asks, speaking louder and more forcefully, battling against the whistling breeze.

An icy chill fills the child’s mouth and throat, but still she does her best to answer. “T-t-turn and r-run back home!”

That alone isn’t enough. “And?”

“W-warn everyone else ab-about it!” She gasps, nearly choking on her words.

“Good...” Those clenching, crushing fingers relax, gently holding the small shoulder that they so nearly hurt. “The Blessed Ones will handle the black snow. Their flames, the flames of the One Who Rests Beneath the Ice, will burn that darkness away. Remember. The black snow is our greatest enemy. There is nothing to be gained from it, and everything to be lost.”

Icy crystals cling to crimson lashes, encouraging the young girl to quickly force her eyes shut. She knows better than to cry out here in the cold.

A long and heavy sigh whispers through the jagged air, remorseful yet not regretful. This cruelty is necessary. “Now, child, what will you do if you see someone engulfed in the black snow?”

“I-I...” More and more this small girl shudders and shakes, even as a thick tail loosely curls around her waist, helping to keep her wobbling knees from losing the last of their strength. She doesn’t want to open her eyes. She doesn’t want to see that patch of darkness in the distance... “Avoid them. Cover my... my tracks. D-don’t lead them home.”

The winds pick up, growing louder and more violent.

“What if they call to you?”

“Ig-ignore them!” The young child shouts, clinging onto that comforting tail. “Don’t answer! Don’t listen! Don’t let them in!”

“What if you... recognize the voice?” The once strong hand weakly slips off her shoulder. “Wh...at if it... is... me...?”

The girl’s emerald eyes shoot open. Darkness swirls around her, void of all light despite how bright the midnight sun may shine. Black vapour rises from the surrounding snow, bubbling and hissing in the stagnant, silent air. “N-no...!” Panic pulses through her core, little limbs flailing around as she staggers to the side, tripping over a large and limp tail... sent toppling to the tainted ground.

Her Father... He... he is ragged. Gaunt. The strength that she remembers him by is... gone. An oily black liquid oozes from the wounds that cover his emaciated body, bleeding through cuts carved into the rotting remains of the pelts he once called clothes, pallid skin doing little to hide the bones beneath.

“H-hel...lp... me...”

A scream of pure terror tears through this child’s choked throat, the black and blighted ice beneath her back keeping her from scrambling away from the trembling hand reaching ever closer, those fingers devoid of colour and lacking in life.

“LeLe...?” A weary, whispered voice echoes throughout the dark room.

An unpleasant, humid heat fills the thick air... yet still the small child cowering in this cramped, claustrophobic space shivers and shakes.

“It... it’s alright.” Bare, bony knees bump into the floor beside that old, worn bed. “They’re... gone now.” A trembling hand reaches into the sheltering darkness, gently grasping onto one just a little smaller than it is.

At her own pace, the younger girl hesitantly crawls into this shared, sparsely decorated bedroom. More and more tears stream down her cheeks as she weakly hugs a sister barely older than she is, careful to not press down on any new bruises.

Unsteady arms wrap around her waist, this embrace mirrored as chin comes to rest atop shuddering shoulder. “It’s okay, LeLe...” A soft, sniffling sound follows that attempt at reassurance. “We’re... safe now...”

But for how long? Neither girl voices that question, knowing full well that the answer is far shorter than they wish.

The two sisters cry together in their dark room, one trying her best to stay strong for the other. Their lives may be terrible, but at least they have each–

...

The preteen girl stares blankly at that cold metal jar resting on the ground in front of her. Her frail body aches. Her fresh bruises make even sitting still like this an agonizing affair.

How long has it been?

A couple years now?

Tears roll down the girl’s pallid cheeks, but she doesn’t feel sad. She doesn’t feel anything. She is just... empty.

Why...? Why did...?

SLAM!

The girl’s heart freezes, grasped by panic. The door...! But the time...!?

She hastily grabs that simple jar and shoves it beneath her bed, struggling to breathe as she hears the painfully familiar footsteps approaching.

No... Please...

The doorknob turns. A sliver of cold light spills into the dark room.

Not a light can be seen in the sky, a thick and heavy curtain of clouds hanging high above, hiding away the countless twinkling stars. Not even the Sister Moons can be seen, their eyes closed and turned away from the land below.

It would be a good night to fly, if not for the reason she was let free from her cage.

Her wings, slightly scarred but thankfully spared of any real harm, catch an updraft of comparatively warm summer air, making the next few beats all the easier. Her thin and bony body, covered in rags and bandages, is near effortlessly carried through the darkness.

Not even the weighty weapon clutched in her claws can hamper her flight, nor can the sturdy chain connecting it to the cuff around her ankle.

But sorrow clings to her heart all the same.

She doesn’t want to fly tonight... She doesn’t want to do what is expected of her... She doesn’t want to –

The heavy collar secured so snugly around her neck gives her a shock, just strong enough to remind her of the task that has been forced upon her.

Grief and despair soar through the starless sky, guided by a dreadful purpose. Her tall ears twitch, hearing the indistinct sounds of the city below. The worried and angered shouts of a wife whose husband came home a bit too late, the joyful cheering and singing of drunkards stumbling about, the warmth of a few lovers laughing at each others’ jokes...

A pinprick of light flickers in her vision, the loathsome goggles strapped and secured onto her head guiding her toward tonight’s target, those heavily enchanted lenses magnifying and enhancing her vision far beyond anything natural.

If she had any more tears to shed, then her gloomy and gaunt cheeks would be stained already. How long has it been since she had the will to cry...?

She glides through the air, passing beneath a tiny gap in the clouds.

Her heart is heavy as she hefts up a weapon worth far more than she. Her claws hold it firmly and tightly, as steady as possible. She does the one thing she is good at, and pulls the trigger.

The bolt launches away almost faster than she can see. She drops the weapon, enduring the pain she deserves as it comes to dangle from its chain. This job is do–

1,143.01 Damage Dealt to [???]

Her heart soars as the bolt tastes flesh. That... wasn’t her target. She... she missed...! When was the last time she missed!? Her target gets to live!

-14.63 Health

-12.42 Health

Agony arc through her body, dancing between the heavy collar around her neck and the cuffs on her limbs. She plummets from the sky, catching herself while still far above the rooftops.

Her blood runs cold.

That wasn’t her target. That wasn’t the mark that she was meant to kill. That... that person wasn’t meant to die tonight.

Damage notifications pass through her perception, flitting by her unfocused eyes. Blood loss and the Black Kiss.

No... no... no, no, no no no...!

She didn’t want to take a life tonight! She never wants to! But this...! That wasn’t her target...! That wasn’t...! She didn’t...!

A heavy, unbearable weight pulls at her wings, making it a struggle to fly back to... the roost.

The constant deluge of notifications slows a little, but it doesn’t stop. Evidence of her sin, of her mistake, of her failure continues to stream past her eyes. It won’t stop until that pour soul is snuffed out, as she should be. That targ– that person will continue to needlessly and pointlessly suffer, until they take their last breath.

The magic woven into that death-bringing bolt ensures as much.

She trembles and shakes, neglected muscles straining and steadily losing their strength. An empty pain settles into her core. This frail, traitorous body of hers craves the ‘reward’ that she will not get, one that she loathes and loves in equal measure.

Her narrow chest feels tight, the lungs within choked by her visible and pronounced ribs. It is becoming increasingly difficult for her to even breathe.

-24.37 Health

Her landing is rough and painful. She doesn’t care. Her wings splay out around her as she crumples to the ground, looking as limp and broken as she feels.

She... she’ll be punished for her failure. Like she deserves... That is all she deserves... Pain... Misery... Isolation...

The notifications suddenly stop. Nothing else follows.

Her head jerks up.

The lingering effects of that blighted bolt have... have come to an end. There is no more damage to be dealt. But... But there is no mention of... of the one she struck by accident having died. There is no mention of her having gotten a kill. Nothing that says she gained any experience.

A feeling long thought to be foreign fills her heart. Warmth. Relief? Joy...?

Who did her bolt strike? Who resisted the Black Kiss? Who survived this unwilling assassin’s attack? Who is the first person to make her miss a target? Who is the first person she failed to kill?

Who...? Who? Who?!

She needs to know.

She needs to find them. She needs them. If they could survive tonight... They can kill her. They can save her. They can free her from this misery.

Who was it? WHO!?

Her shaky, unstable mind races. This past half hour of false freedom flashes through her head. The past few minutes receive the most focus.

Her target was a noblewoman. Dark dress. Dark hair. Bright skin. The one she hit was... was the bodyguard. Big. Tall. Strong. Protective. Armoured. With a tail. A thick, long tail. Not Human. Not like anyone she has seen before. Easy to spot. Easy to recognize.

She can find that survivor again. She has to. She –

-8.53 Health

-7.91 Health

-14.73 Health

Agony burns through her very being. She convulses on the cold floor, each thrash and bump bringing more deserved pain. The collar and the cuffs forced upon her expend only a small fraction of their power to send skittering bolts of lightning across her wings, over her feeble torso, and down her long legs.

Yet despite that... a maniacal grin fills her face.

A grin that is quickly smothered and snuffed out as she realizes what is to come.

No...!

She won’t be let out of her cage until she is next needed to take a life. She has no way to search for that survivor. She...

Her tiny flicker of hope, the first one she has ever felt in her miserable life, crumbles and dies.

Tears leak from her eyes.