She woke in darkness.
Her body felt numb; her head was pounding; her edge was gone. But Maya was not afraid. She had been in this dingy cellar countless times, granted in better condition, but she knew where she was by the placement of the cobwebs on the ceiling.
She was home.
After a while, her headache got compounded by a knocking at the door. Even in this desperate state, a certain amount of respect was owed to her. Respect, among many other debts.
Chief of which was fear.
"L-Lady Knife." The old man that entered was as decrepit as they came. "You've awoken..." Stooped, gnarled, ancient. The man saved a girl once. "I feared the worst. But my faith never wavered." That girl was dead, now. But her shadow had fondness for him still.
"What happened, Cedric?" Maya managed to prop herself on her elbows. The numbness started to fade, replaced by glorious pain. "Did the swine find me?"
"Of course not." Cedric said with a wizened chuckle. "One of the acolytes found your body two days prior - collapsed in one of the sheds above."
So I made it. She exhaled. I wasn't sure the Fog would last that long. "Only the one acolyte saw me?"
"Only the one..." Cedric hesitated. "But he's a good lad, Maya. You don't -"
"I told you to never call me that!" Her elbows trembled. "You think I have a choice?"
"There is always a choice..."
"Careful, old man. I've told you what would happen if you overstepped your boundaries. Now, remove yourself from my presence before I reconsider my debts."
Cedric placed an oil lamp at the cellar threshold, bowed his head, and left without another word.
Maya couldn't stay put much longer. Her mind was sober and a sober mind invited unwanted thoughts. Soon, she forced herself on her feet, accepting the pain like a loving friend. A friend that let you forget the times you rather wouldn't.
She moved, slow and lethargic, one step at a time, through the stone hallway. No acolytes would dare trespass here, in the private quarters of their leader: Viktor Tzar. She knocked on his door and entered.
Maya hated his small library - it caused unbidden memories to surface. She could never hate the man in it's center, however. By a crimson light he stood - Viktor Tzar. Tall, lanky with long onyx hair kept neat, like everything else on his person. His large piercing eyes currently studied one of his many tomes. He pretended to not perceive her as she slumped in a chair.
"Lady Knife. You've not visited my wine cellar in quite some time."
"I like what you've done with the place."
'I see our spirits haven't dampened." The slightest of smiles. "Good. The hogs have rallied behind their comrade, they will be waiting for your return."
"But my spirit will prevail? Is that it?"
A moment. "Have you forgotten your oath, Lady Knife?"
Another. "Have you?"
A genuine smile this time. "I feared your state might have dulled your senses." He returned to his tome. "I've never seen you in that condition."
"Yes, well..." Maya let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Forgive me, Fredrik. That wasn't worthy. I - I've never lost like that. I still don't know how to feel."
"If my acolytes heard the way you talk to me..."
"They would no longer see you as their messiah?" Maya shrugged. "I think Lady Knife can talk to the Preacher as she wishes, no?"
"Hmm. Perhaps." Silence. "When will you be able to slit their throats?"
"The acolytes?" His look brook no nonsense. Yes, this wasn't the time for levity.
He said nothing. The bastard knew what she wanted but always made her ask for it. It was like a game to see how long she'd last. "Viktor," Maya lost this game every time, and every time was swifter than the last. "I need to Enter. My wounds need healing."
"The pain is not enough to stifle your thoughts?"
"It is, for now. However, I cannot stop thinking of what those pigs did to me..."
He closed his tome. "I will send for someone from the village."
"No. I'll use the acolyte that saw me. He is in need of a Cleansing either way."
The Preacher nodded. "As Lady Knife wishes. I will wait with him in the Purification Chamber."
The Purification Chamber was in the center of the lair, a circular room isolated from the rest, pillars lining the walls in red flame. In the middle was an alter, an empty silver bowl attached to its top. Before it stood Viktor Tzar and a hooded, blindfolded figure in white robes.
As Maya approached she could hear the acolyte praying. As well he should. She caressed his forehead, gently placing his head atop the bowl. She slit his throat in one decisive move, then held him down while the blood filled the bowl. Once filled, she tossed the corpse aside.
Inside, the blood started to boil. First in protest, then in silence. Like a living thing.
As Maya approached she could feel the fumes on her skin. Placing her hands on the warm alter she took one deep breath then plunged her head in the bowl. The initial burning pain evaporated nearly instantly. The Fog enveloped her as she inhaled the blood. Maya could feel its healing properties working already. She inhaled again, the burning blood churning through her veins, then stilling. Comforting her fully and wholly.
Demanding blood be spilled in its name.
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We had to get through the world building in this one. Now on to the fun stuff. ๐ As I've already said: it's gonna get worse before it gets "better".
Shout-out to the ๐PIZZA๐ gang, ๐ค gang. ๐ค
๐ Follow me on my HIVE blog ๐
Have a great bloody day! ๐
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