Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 381 Children of the Fallen Ones

By the time Tasha arrived at the entrance, the men of Ravine Fort stood armed, their bows nocked at the ready along the high wall, while those below stood with their swords and spears poised for combat. It was apparent that this was not the first time they'd experienced a similar situation.

A young man, not much older than Altair, stood draped in black with seven similar figures behind him. Twin scimitars strapped to their back. His ears suggested he was an elf, but his scent was all wrong. He was tall, his skin shaded as if he was one with the shadows.

'Trow,' Tasha determined, holding her stare on the tarnished creature.

"Is this how you greet your guest?" El'von shouted, his voice lashing across the ears of everyone present. His cold red eyes searched the crowd for something or perhaps someone. "Lower your weapons!"

The men of Ravine Fort did not move.

"You're bloodlust is apparent," Chief Klave Hor said. "Whatever your business, we want no part in it."

El'von scuffed, expecting as much. "We are in search of a young man! A fourth-circle male. Ashen hair, handsome, perhaps accompanied by two women?!" The change in the faces of some of the younger men brought a smile to his face. "It would seem you've seen them. Give them to us, and we shall leave!

If not…"

Behind the Chief, Tasha was without expression, her disguised appearance of Sister Audry holding strong.

"Ravine Fort is under the protection of the Temple of Sepith," she said loudly. "The Goddess of Mercy shall not offer any mercy should you attack our home!"

"Goddess of Mercy," El'von growled. "Ariandel holds no dominion over us! Ko'vak!"

'Impure Weakling,' Tasha translated. She hadn't expected much. The Trows were infamous for their bloodlust. They were followers of Muardral, the God of the First Rot. The moniker he'd earned by ascending into a Grimm.

Flashes of anger jolted across the faces of the men above the wall, their fingers beginning to itch.

"Blasphemous!" A voice echoed from one man to the other. "Have you forgotten of the Great Purification! That Blessed Almor for nearly a decade!" "The Will of Ariendel purified the Realm of all disease, poisons, and death for ten years!"

"We can't expect much from a Trow! Worshipers of an Evil God! Children of the Fallen Ones!"

The Trow's expression hardened, and everyone felt some weight in the bowls—a fear that crept in as if the realization of what was before them became more apparent. The Children of the Fallen Ones, the Grimms, the Heralds of the Fallen Angels, and the Gods of the Trow.

Shields were raised as Mana gathered, turning the air acrid. It was becoming harder to breathe, harder for those beneath the Fifth circle to stand as many fainted, unable to maintain a presence.

Tasha took a step forward. 'Worshipers of Muardral, hear me! The ones you seek left at the sound of the bell tolls. Leave! They had two Ninth Circles with them, right? I saw them with my two eyes.

They—"

"We would like to confirm," El'von interrupted. There was a peculiar glow in his eyes—a bleak aura that only existed in those who'd slain over a thousand men and consequently collected their resentment. It rose from out of his skin like tendrils of vaporous darkness, writhing across his clothes.

"Fiend!" the Chief snapped. How many have you killed?" he counted the six vaporous tendrils; his expression was dark, and his spear shook. If each tendril represented a thousand men, El'von had killed more than…

'A six thousand kill count,' Tasha disdainfully thought. She couldn't count the amount of resentment she had collected in the Hells. Rather than tendrils, her's burned like a sun, so profound it could eclipse the sun. Still…

"Be silent!" she hissed, pressing his spear down with her palm. "Think of the children. We cannot fight them. Have faith in the Goddess Mercy. Even if it's hard, think of them!" She took a step forward, her gaze poised on El'von. "If I were to swear to Ariendel herself, would that suffice? There isn't a need for bloodshed."

"Priestess," A few in the crowd angrily shouted.

"How could—

Tasha made her cheeks red as if to mask some unnamed sense of shame. "Show us Mercy! As a Priestess of Ariendel, I am bound to my Oath. I can swear to you that whomever you're looking for isn't here. They left… If you leave now, you might be able to catch up with them."

El'von took a step forward, and an arrow pierced centimeters from his boot.

"Hold your fire!" Tasha screamed. "Hold!"

The Trow sneered, continuing without pause, a few meters from Tasha. He reached into his robe, alarming a few men, but Tasha held out her palm to stay there hasty action.

From his robe, a parchment of paper illustrating Nox De Nier's striking appearance appeared.

"Swear to your Goddess of Mercy. Swear that this man has left!"

Tasha's eyes were cold, but it paled in comparison to her heart. She smiled a joyous one, clasping her hands together, mirroring one of the many of the Oaths she'd seen those of the Seven Pillars of Sepith uttered.

When she was done, El'von scowled. He'd hoped this 'Priestess' had been lying, but there would be no point mulling over the matter. No Priestess of Sepith would incur the wrath of their God for strangers. Even if they had, he'd seen a few who'd broken their oath erupt in a pyre of golden flames for their lies.

As much as he'd love to pillage this village, his mission came first. "Show us the exit they took," El'von commanded, beckoning his men through.

Tasha ignored the discontent and led the stranger through the village, her way towards the eastern gate.

A number of times, El'von would ask one of the onlookers if they could confirm Tasha's story, but with a single glance, the Lilm's pupils pulsed with compulsion, breathing a story in their minds without them even realizing they had been under her thrall. As much as she wanted to turn these Trow into her slaves, she dared not imagine the power Muardral had given them.

Should they somehow possess even a sliver of his Divinity, her compulsion would be broken, and a battle would ensue.

"You did the right thing, Ko'vak," the Trow said, laughing to himself as he left in a flicker through the eastern gate.

When the last shadow of the Followers of Muardral vanished over under the watchful eye of the village militia, Tasha's lips perked up. She spun to stare at the Chief, confused expression. "Themme's that was reckless and—" his words faded with the light in his eyes as he became clouded.

The young men and women who were slowly gathering lost in conversation as to what just occurred, fell to their knees. Be they man or woman, children or elderly, none could speak as the Lilm's pheromones began invading their bodies without the slightest hint of mercy.

"It was my mistake not enslaving the village the moment I saw them. Next time, I know." she thought, marking the souls of each man, woman, and child present with a wave of her palm. An eldritch flash of light connected above their heads, sinking into their Soul Flame, marking them property.

"Devil!" A sheik echoed through the air.

Tasha looked toward the three Clerics of Sepith, shrouded by the light of Ariandel. She smiled, and her face phased from Sister Audry's appearance back to her devilish one.

"You!"

"Me," Tasha mused as Gram appeared in her hand. It shrank from a sword's length to a dagger, its features slightly curving into a fang; she held it by the handle in a reverse grip. Don't worry; I won't kill you all. In fact… I'll offer your souls to Muardral. Perhaps he might gift me his blessing as he watches as I tarnish you three." Her scarlet eyes burned hellfire as, one by one, her thralls rose.

"NO!" Tebe shrieked, her mace burning with a sacred flame. "No!"

"You're with them! You're with them!" Ylve cried, exposing the village to the Aura of Ariandel. The thralls screamed, falling back to their knees, clawing at their faces without regard for what was torn away.

Tasha's skin began to sizzle before the effect of the Aura of Ariandel faded beneath the Baelful Aura, bleeding from her being.

"Clerics of Light, they called you all. How fitting. One of you has even Taken the Oath of Iron. Unfortunately, unless you had an entire battalion of those who have taken the Oath of Silence, then perhaps I might have feared." she lifted her palm, Demonic Essence writhing across flesh.

Tendrils rose from the screaming thralls, and they rose once more, their bloodied expression twisting into one of manacle laughter.

"We must run!" Reka shouted. A shield of holy light pulsed around her arm, and a mace formed in the other. "GO! I'll hold her back! Go!"

"Silly children," Tasha said calmly as the Chief speed-blitzed the three. His Nine Circles burned hot in his chest. There is nowhere to run: This is the end. Right here. So do accept what's about to happen with grace."

"No!" "No!" "No!"

The Devil of the Nine Hells ignored their terror. "As offerings to Muardral, you three need to be… tenderized. Do enjoy it. By the time I'm done, you'll be screaming Muardral's name—Broken and Tarnished."