I Never Was Devout

Four pairs of panicked eyes. All locked onto a single space within the dark, corpse infested, terrifying room.

Every single member of the scouting party couldn’t tear their gaze away from Kazan’s stump of an arm.

There was no dramatic spray of blood - whatever powers Azarin had, made it so. And the wound left behind…

Clean.

There was just a terrifying void where Kazan’s shoulder was supposed to link into his arm.

A sheared humerus bone.

The rings of his bicep and triceps muscles were frozen into a dull grey, almost sealed shut. Black vapors rose off the fresh wound instead.

Hah… just my luck… Kazan still couldn’t tear his gaze away from his stump of an arm. Cauterized instantly. Not a drop of blood. Don’t even hurt much. But… What a damn monster. I’m going into neurogenic shock. My damn muscles are spasming. Gotta stabilize my Jiu core, or else… I can’t let the others panic too much…!

This… this isn’t real, Arjuna thought to himself. Right? It’s a nightmare. We’re in a nightmare. All of this is… the archer tried to slowly raise his bow again. M-my arms… feel weak… the smells of the charred bodies…

I-is this really what Lady Azarin is like? Leila slowly backed away. Still breathing heavily, eyes wide. W-what… what could turn a member of the Three Noble Families… into this? H-has she always been…? Kazan…

This is all my fault. Nassor shook his head, already biting his lip so hard blood started to flow. Clenching his free fist, the other gripping his silver spear tighter. I… I froze up in fear at the start. Even right now - I’m fucking terrified.

A soft, deep chuckle filled the dark chamber.

Azarin leaned down. And began to stroke Kazan’s hair almost with a gentle, familial touch. He froze immediately.

“There there,” she whispered. “Pain is only temporary. It was only just a taste. An eye for an eye, no? You tried to singe my favorite umbrella… and so I meant to have a little bite of your primary arm. Do excuse my voracity… I ended up biting off just a tad more. Rather unbecoming of a lady, wouldn’t you say, little rat?”

She sighed. And then stepped away, towards the center of the room. Not even glancing at the others.

Kazan let out the breath he was holding. The fuck is up with this chick? She sounded… like, actually sorry… but this ain’t the time to stop.

And then? He slapped himself. Shook his head. And focused. Channeling Jiu into his right hand, and letting it wash over his left shoulder.

She sees us as nothing more than harmless animals, Nassor thought to himself. Pawns that she can play with. Come ON, Nassor! Where’s your arrogance? Your anger? Your skill that you fucking swear by?

Nassor forced himself to stare at the corpses around the room. Especially the ones that had been charred or devoured by Azarin’s flames.

That could be him. Or Arjuna. Or Kazan. Or Leila. If he didn’t do something, things would just get worse…!

He turned and looked at the others.

Arjuna’s terrified face, his capable little brother, who always was so calm and sweet.

Leila’s shock. That confident, open-minded heiress he slowly was finding himself liking.

Kazan’s quiet determination. The weakling who was being tougher than him right now.

Nassor's hand shook around the shaft of his spear. Badly. He hated it. Hated that his body still hadn't caught up to whatever his soul was trying to do. His legs felt like lead wrapped in more lead.

Get up. GET UP.

What moved his body didn’t feel like courage. It felt more like survival.

He braced himself against the wall first, dragging himself upright through sheer stubborn refusal, before scowling at that terrifying Overseer.

"You're a complete monster. And I'm… a coward, and a failure of a leader," he remarked, his voice shaking before it steadied, rising in intensity. "But I'll be damned if I let down my comrades, who have fought with me in life, in this tomb!"

“Oh?” Azarin’s Solaran-gothic dress fluttered as she turned, facing Nassor once more. One threaded brow raised. “It seems you have some fight left. Go on. Get it all out of your system.”

He then crouched down into a ready position. Nassor was at the very edge of the chamber. Primed. A corpse, and a Watcher’s remains in his path… but they didn’t matter.

Not now.

Jiu began to flow from Nassor’s body, that golden-reddish hue swirling. Jiu from the dank tombs coalescing, mingling with his own.

The whirling of Jiu, the rage almost palpable in the chamber. It was enough to snap Leila out of it. The Heiress sped right over to Nassor, attempting to shake him by the shoulders.

“NASSOR! Don’t go! It’s useless! We can’t beat her by just running straight at-”

It was useless. Weakened, Leila couldn’t budge him an inch. And then, the elder spearman rushed off without looking back.

A beeline right for that mass of monstrous, vile, feasting black flames.

“I’LL KILL YOU, MONSTER!” was Nassor’s battle cry, an enraged call for blood, even blasting away the remains in his path.

His battle cry was met with a charming, gentle, almost pitying smile.

“Cute. But you lose all your skill when you’re angry, desert dog.”

Nassor’s first strike was a stab aimed at Azarin’s face. She casually brushed the spear away with the back of her left hand.

Following the momentum, a bit of Flow manifests, and Nassor charges it into a sweeping leg strike instead.

Azarin jumped almost daintily to avoid it, never losing that taunting smile.

Right here. She’s wide open…!

Nassor went right for it. Pushing more and more Jiu into his body, releasing it through his silver spear, for one powerful thrust to the Overseer’s midsection, and-

THUNK .

In front of him, the Overseer had stopped his spear. But instead of catching it or blocking it with her umbrella, which had been tossed aside - the bladed tip of the spear had pierced clean through her hand. She gracefully touched back down on the black floor tiles.

“Hngh. Come on…!”

As much as Nassor tried, he couldn’t move his spear forward or backward. It felt like…

“Yes,” the corner of Azarin’s lips curled into a faint, almost gracious smile. “I loosened my natural Jiu defense for just a moment. Even that jump was to lull you in. Your first blood drawn was a gift handed to you, dear. And now…”

“Suppose it’s time to defang the mutt.”

CRACK!

Azarin struck the shaft of the silver spear with a knife-hand chop. And both halves of the weapon clattered against the tomb’s black tiles, rolling away, until they stopped near a drained corpse each.

“My… my first spear, gifted to me by Arjuna…” Nassor took a step back. Blinking slowly. His fists clenching. “Our promise as brothers. That history. Down the fucking drain…!”

By now, the black flames had dwindled down into small embers. Azarin gestured lightly, tossing the flames onto the corpses now. The dark light roared, engulfing the room in a terrifying dark glow. And the Abyssal Scales on the pedestal began to shake.

“Rise, rise! My Goddess, manifest! Even if just into these tombs! Engulf these hallowed walls in your ever-consuming glory! While-”

The Overseer ducked and weaved between angry jabs even while monologuing. Nassor’s furious Jiu made each one sound like a musket shot. Yet each strike was deflected or dodged. A losing dance, with the silver-haired mercenary flailing away.

“ARJUNA!” Leila exclaimed. “Wake up, now! We can’t let Nassor just fight alone! I have to help Kazan for now!”

The noblewoman was right by the healer’s side, supplanting him with a bit of her own Star Magic. Bits of luminous emerald Jiu began to trail down Kazan’s arm. They curled around the exposed bits of muscle and bone, like a gentle caress.

“Heh… not bad,” Kazan grunted, tilting his head up to meet her eyes. “Yer maybe like, half the healer I am, I guess…”

“Shush. I’m surprised you’re even able to joke at a time like this,” Leila muttered, far too focused on concentrating her Jiu. “... it’s as you said. I’m not a specialist, so you’ll have to guide me a bit.”

“Got it. My arm is gone forever. But… I still need to be stabilized. I’ve already jumpstarted my Jiu core again. So starting with the muscle tissue…”

Beautiful green eyes just stared. Arjuna was a silent observer to it all. The pointless and hopeless fight. The determined yet slow healing.

… what’s the point? Arjuna’s mind wandered. None of us can defeat that monstrous woman. If she wanted to, we’d all be dead. Just look at how fast she devoured Kazan’s arm, when she felt actually slighted.

Explosions and the humming of healing magic.

Black flames devouring the corpses of those Azarin had killed before they arrived.

And the sound of Arjuna’s own tumultuous thoughts. Even Leila’s call to action had been simply ignored.

Yet, as the blonde archer’s mind raced, he thought back to something. Back to six years ago.

Sixteen year old Nassor, a good deal more scrawny, leapt out of the orphanage’s window. A short fall from the second floor - with something in hand. Something large, wrapped in thick cloth.

“Oi! Little Juna! I got you something. You’re gonna like it… tadaaa!”

A bow. Made out of some material they hadn’t seen before. Beautifully carved.

“I got you this,” Nassor stated proudly. “Found it in the Head Matron’s vault! Wonder why she was keepin’ a bow like this there. But… it’s yours. Call it an early birthday present for ya.”

And the small, frail, beautiful fourteen year old Arjuna’s eyes shone like the stars in the sky.

“B-Big brother! T-that’s um… s-stealing, isn’t it?” But even he couldn’t help but take the bow graciously. “But…” Arjuna frowned. “W-why’d you do this? For me?”

“Simple,” Nassor stood up proud, puffing out his chest. Brushing back his freshly silver-bleached hair - bits of black streaking through amateurishly - and laughed. “Cuz! A big bro always protects his little brother, especially a frail, sensitive one like you. And… you got me that spear too, for my birthday.”

His eyes softened. Warm hazel, like strong and reliable motawood.

“And. So when I charge into battle like a dumbass, riled up by something stupid… you can have my back! Like a good sidekick, eh? Every dashing warrior needs one!”

The small younger brother rolled his eyes - but his lips curled into a smile, one filled with warmth and adoration for his older brother.

He’s like the sun. Always dragging my weak shadow along…

“Right, brother!” Arjuna drew his bow with quickness - fingers not shaking anymore. By the contrary, they were firm. Rigid like steel. “For my elder brother, who always shines the brightest… your reliable shadow never falters!”

First, Arjuna’s eyes locked onto the ongoing fight. Watching and analyzing the movements of both Nassor and Azarin. His brother’s wild punches, and Azarin’s lackadaisical dodging.

All of his energy was focusing into his bow. Wild, dark blue light twirling around Arjuna’s limbs, crawling up, entwining itself along the bow’s limbs like twin vines. Building. Changing color into a rich, beautiful plum purple.

… behind the action, the Abyssal Scales began to rumble…

Wait. Wait. Wait for the perfect moment to shoot… Arjuna didn't blink a single time.

Azarin put on a fake yawn, taking her time in dodging the next blow. Nassor’s right fist wound up, and then punched ahead, blazing with Jiu, his body completely open to any counterattack…

NOW!

THWOOSH!

The deep purple arrow shot through the air. Whistling past the flames and bodies.

“Hm?”

Azarin’s fake yawn died as she tracked the arrow, as it landed… right at Nassor’s feet? Moments before the punch was thrown, just as the older brother’s driving foot stepped in hard.

The Overseer’s eyes then widened out of shock.

The arrow missed. And the mutt disappeared? Where did he go-

BOOOM!

From the sidelines of the tomb battle, Leila and Kazan paused just to gawk at the incredible sight.

Nassor’s Jiu-loaded fist slamming right into the left cheek of the terrifying lady. It felt like slow motion, her facial muscles twitching as momentum carried, the Jiu on his fist exploded violently, and…

“GAH!”

Fine silks bore their first real signs of damage, as Azarin was sent flying back a few meters. Her head was thrown back, eyes wide still…

As she leaned forward spat out a dark red globule of wet blood.

“You.”

Azarin didn’t spare a glance at the man who had punched her. No. Her dark slitted eyes were boring down on Arjuna’s handsome face. Blinking slowly. Lip split. Cheek bruised.

“You… teleported him. Created a portal. That shouldn’t… no. Forget it. You’re all dying.”

Azarin's expression finally dropped all pretenses. No more cordial smiling. No more talking. Just black flames roaring all around her, an inferno of pitch black madness.

Like hell had truly descended upon this dark catacomb.

“No more playing games.” Azarin stated calmly. “Goodbye, the four of you. I had just a modicum of fun. A light snack.”

Unlike before, the dark flames of endless devouring had manifested into a five-headed snake. The overwhelming darkness was about to fall upon them like a tidal wave…

… When the forgotten Abyssal Scales began clicking. Their chattering was like thousands upon thousands of mice.

Even Azarin had to pause, face lighting up with glee - “MY LADY! She is coming! She’s come to praise me, and devour them all-”

The shadows writhed across the ground, spreading like a plague. In just a second, the entire chamber was engulfed in the darkest black.

Devouring the few corpses left.

Devouring the scraps of the Watchers.

Blazing right past Azarin.

Outright ignoring Kazan.

Pausing at Leila and Arjuna for just a moment, as if thinking - and then ignoring them.

“M-my Lady has come to…” the edges of Azarin’s lips curled down. A genuine look of sadness and disappointment. “She has come to ignore me? And swallow him, of all options? Not…”

SNAP.

The shadow-serpent didn't just swallow him. It folded reality shut like a closed book.

One second, Nassor was standing there, fists still smoking with golden-reddish Jiu. The next? Nothing. Just empty, freezing air where their “leader” used to be.

“BROTHER!”

Arjuna’s voice cracked. He lunged forward, dropping his bow, forgetting his trembling legs, grasping desperately at the empty black space. His fingers caught nothing.

“NASSOR! NO!”

Behind him, Leila dropped to her knees beside Kazan, her emerald Star Magic sputtering out as she covered her mouth in absolute horror. Even Kazan, fighting through the haze of neurogenic shock, stared at the empty floor tiles in complete, stunned silence.

Just like that. Gone. Swallowed up by whatever had manifested from the ritual, from those ancient, mystic scales.

And standing in the center of the tomb, Azarin hadn’t moved an inch.

Her towering, five-headed inferno of pitch-black flames slowly flickered, dissolving into harmless, grey smoke that drifted toward the ceiling. The terrifying Overseer lowered her hands. Her silk-clad shoulders were actually trembling.

Not from rage.

No. Never that. Her Goddess could never make her angry. Never.

“Why…?” Azarin whispered to the Abyssal Scales. The shimmering relic had gone completely silent and unmoving, the light blinking out. Her slitted amethyst eyes were wide, hollow, and completely devoid of all fervent glee.

“I gave you mountains of flesh. Rich ancient souls. Azurite metals. I gave you reverence. I am your devout Overseer…”

She slowly raised a black-gloved hand, touching the split, bleeding lip where that filthy mercenary had struck her.

“And you choose him? An ignorant godless mutt who barks and bites?”

Azarin slowly turned her head toward the remaining three scouts. There was no ladylike politeness left in her face. No charming smiles. No twisted Noblesse Oblige. Just a rigid, stone-cold, emotionless stare.

Arjuna instinctively reached for his fallen bow.

But Azarin simply waved her hand, turning her back on them entirely. The echo of her high heels against the black tiles ringing out, beginning to fade as she walked away.

“My appetite has been lost,” she began, her voice dead and cold. “Disappointment makes for an uneasy stomach. And I’ve already shown you an undignified face twice.”

She paused at the edge of the chamber, glancing back over her shoulder one last time.

“Patch up your little friends. And pray your silver-haired beast never returns from the Sky,” Azarin warned softly. “Because if he does… I will personally roast, season, and devour each muscled limb of his. Slowly.”

And with a subtle fade into the shadows, the Overseer vanished. Leaving behind a silent, weeping archer, a one-armed healer, and a terrified heiress alone in the twisted Royal Tombs.

Cold.

Freezing, absolute, suffocating cold.

Gone was the smell of charred corpses. No metallic tang of old blood or damp stone. No acrid aftertaste from the burnt Watcher remains. They had all disappeared with Nassor.

“The only one I worship…”

“NASSOR!”

“The TRUE ruler of this world…”

“BROTHER!”

“The sun to my shadow…”

“The Devouring Sky herself.”

Voices.

After the cacophony of voices came a rush of images and colors.

Deep purples, titillating blues, euphoric dark reds. Stars. Time.

Continents. People. Nations. White. Black. Gods.

Desert. Coast. Island. Valley. Mist. Volcano. Tundra. Rainforest.

Nature. Threads. Skulls.

Until it all melded into one black, endless, despair-filled void.

Nassor gasped for air, crashing hard onto a surface that didn't feel like stone at all. He looked down - only to see endless dark blues, and glowing dots that almost seemed like stars.

He looked up, and saw the desert sands above him, yet nothing fell to the ground.

The inverse.

“Gah… fuck…!”

Pain brought him out of his shock and confusion. He rolled over onto his side, coughing violently and spitting a dark splatter of blood onto the reflective floor. His knuckles were completely shattered from hitting Azarin. His muscles screamed with lactic acid, and the golden-reddish hue of his Flow flickered out, dying like a wet candle in the wind.

I really… blew it all on that single punch.. Hah.. Get up. You gotta get up, Nassor. Arjuna… Leila… Kazan… I gotta get back…!

He gritted his teeth, forcing his battered, heavy body up onto one knee. Without his silver spear, he felt naked. Defenseless.

And then, the gravity in the room changed.

An oppressive, unimaginable weight pressed down on his shoulders, so heavy it made his very soul want to bow and scrape against the glass floor.

A single figure descended from the sandy “skies” above. The body of a woman, yet… it didn’t feel right. The mass twitched. Glitched.

One moment it had two hands, the next moment it had six.

Yet the one constant was that inhuman, wide, sharp-toothed smile.

Nassor wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his trembling forearm. He looked up into that terrifying, primordial darkness.

He didn’t drop to his knees. He didn't offer a prayer. His lips just curled into a defiant, bloody grin.

“Just so we’re clear…” Nassor wheezed, forcing himself to stand tall on legs that felt like lead. Offering a weak, tired smirk. “… I never was devout.”