Total darkness…
When Ashley woke up, all she saw was the black void. She almost panicked, but then felt the blindfold that covered her face. She wasn't blind; something was just covering her eyes.
Why?
Was this another of Snow's tests?
No.
She wasn't lying down. Her feet were dangling off the ground, and her arms were both above her head with a thick rope that dug into her wrists. Her limbs ached, and she suddenly recalled how she got here.
Snow had taken her and Sera to patrol a city. It was a thing they did all the time, but something was wrong. A horse-like monster attacked them, and everything around them flashed with an orange glow. She remembered that Snow had acted fast, forcing a barrier around all three of them and putting the fire out, but the thing that had caused the flames to start attacked and broke past his wall. The fire spilled in, and a hand grabbed her, and then—
Everything had gone dark…
She heard Sera and Snow screaming, but that was it.
Now she was somewhere else. To make matters worse, she could feel a pair of eyes on her and heard someone talking as well.
"I heard one of the seven died."
"It's about time."
"Yes. Well, after the failure of the last one, it's reassuring to know that the others don't have the same ability. And all it took was the destruction of three cities and three villages."
"Hmph. That bastard who managed to survive Adam's story and Bloom's attack surely cheated. If the higher-ups would only send me out once more, I'd ensure that he was dealt with for good. He won't escape us again, Farkiss."
"Huli, you know that they don't want him dead right now. His survival has spooked the higher-ups."
"It was a fluke, Farkiss! Adam's story would never fail! When it comes to controlling the Path of this world, he is second only to the Great Dragon of Roads!"
"Eh, don't let the 'Sea King' hear you say that. He might take offense to that."
Ashley tried to stay silent and hoped that whoever the people were, they would leave her alone. Sadly, that wasn't the case, and she suddenly felt a fur-covered hand grip her chin. The pair of voices that had been talking had been a gruff-sounding older man and a young woman. The woman's voice now purred in her ear, and Ashley was unable to stop the shiver that went down her back.
"Oh, it seems you woke up." The female voice, Huli, taunted her. "Trying not to make a sound? Maybe it would have worked on the others, but I could tell the rhythm of your breathing and the beating of your heart changed."
Ashley gritted her teeth. She thought about saying a spell, but that was practically around her throat, and she could feel sharp claws pressing into her skin. Before she even got the final part of the incantation out, she'd be dead. Instead, she settled on a simple question. "W-Where am I?"
"Nowhere you'd know about." The female voice chuckled. "Don't worry. We don't plan to kill you either. Unlike your companions."
Ashley flinched again, and her heart ached at the thought of Snow and Sera being dead. Another hand brushed the side of her face, and the blindfold was removed, allowing her to see.
The room she was in looked similar to the dungeons held within prisons. Everything was built with reinforced stone, and dozens of runes lined the bricks. There was a cell door ahead of her, and beyond it, through the bars, she could see other cells that all contained people like her. Each person was hung up by their wrists, bound to a hook that was coming from the roof.
Unlike her, the others all looked drained and exhausted, being skin and bones. Their clothing was falling apart, and they looked like they were barely hanging on. Some were men, some were women, but they all had one thing in common.
Ashley realized she had seen them all before. The Dyrt family used to be of noble descent but is no longer. They were barely holding on to their standing and served the Zyne family as loyal maids and butlers, for that was the price they paid for being pushed so low.
The five branch families all stood at the top, with normal noble families positioned below them. Lastly, at the bottom were the lesser noble families, which served those above them. The lesser families did this instead of commoners because, back in the day, it was a form of humiliation to turn a once proud noble family into a lesser servitude role.
All the people Ashley saw were from lesser noble houses. Families full of failed merchants or Knights. The people who still technically had noble blood but no longer had the standing required to run the world.
They were still far more important than the lives of commoners, and yet here they all were, as well as herself, being hung up like meat.
What the hell was going on?
Ashley was also finally able to see the two people who had been talking. The one holding her cheek was a golden-haired beauty, with jagged fox ears and a fox tail that whipped back and forth. She had a cruel grin on her face, and her eyes were filled with a sinister light as she stared at Ashley.
The other figure was a short, plump, dark skinned man in bright purple robes, and several of his teeth were golden as he grinned.
"W-What do you want with me?" Ashley asked in a trembling voice.
"Relax." Huli patted her cheek. "I already told you, we're not going to kill you. Master Rage brought you back because his eyes are sharp, and he was able to tell that you possessed the 'correct' blood. We'll keep you alive. At least until we've drained all that you're worth!"
Ashley shook her head and growled. "Like I'll let that happen!"
"Well, we can just kill you and take the blood out quickly if you want." Huli shrugged, and without warning, her claws slashed out.
Ashley felt a wave of pain, and she screamed as red started to pour down her body. She had been gutted, her body sliced open, and her life came spilling out rapidly. Everything started to become dark, and she felt cold as the world began to spin out of control. She nearly vomited, but only blood poured out of her mouth, and tears started to stream down her face.
Finally, right before the last of her life force vanished, Farkiss stepped forward and tapped his wand out. There was a golden glow, and Ashley suddenly gasped as her stomach wound sealed shut.
The amount of blood she lost was the same still, and the world wouldn't stop spinning. She was at least not dead and no longer bleeding out, but the only thing currently on her mind was pure and utter terror.
"And look at that." Huli patted Ashley's cheek mockingly. "Another 'brave' noble goes and pisses themselves from almost dying. You hang out for a bit and recover some of your precious blood. We'll be back."
The two monsters finally left, Farkiss carrying out a crude bucket that was filled with the blood that spilled out of Ashley.
Ashley remained in her cell, trembling and shaking, and barely able to breathe. The door was still open, as was every other person's, but like them, she did nothing, for she could tell she wasn't going to be given a second chance.
She quietly began to weep as she realized the horrible fate ahead of her.
It wasn't supposed to turn out this way. Her life should have been good. She became a Knight and could regain some of her lost honor and still be with her friends. Why was she in this place? What had she done to deserve this? What were they going to do to her? Why did they need her blood? So many horrible thoughts filled her mind.
"R-Rowan!" Snot and tears and blood dripped down her face as she dangled above the ground. "S-Save me!"
Outside in the halls, Huli and Farkiss began to head down the stone corridor. Farkiss looked down at the bucket of Ashley's blood and shook his head in disgust. "Wouldn't it just be better to kill them all?" He questioned. "Keeping these people held up like this feels like a waste of effort. All this for a bit of blood?"
Huli hummed and folded her arms. "I forgot that you're relatively new when it comes to our organization. Blood is something important for two of the representative masters. Master Bloom needs it for his rituals. Mistress Rosette says it tastes the best. Nobles naturally have more mana in their blood than most. Even these lesser servant nobles still possess the strength of full-fledged nobility. They all flaunt their silly titles and positions around like it means something, despite all being of the same strength. Ironically, though, their idea of positions does work. After all, we've only kidnapped the members of the servant families. This is because the kingdom, while bound to care, won't put as much effort into the search if it were a stronger noble family or a Branch family. Of course, even if we did take one, they'd never be able to find us. After all, we're not even on Haru's world anymore."
Huli let out a loud laugh, throwing her head back as her tail whipped back and forth. Farkiss gave a lazy nod and stared down into the bucket of blood, still feeling conflicted about everything that had happened. "What do you think the representative masters are talking about now?"
"Likely about the six remaining fools who must die." Huli mused. "And to think, this journey that took us years to reach will end soon. All thanks to Master Adam."
Far, far away, not found in any kingdom, nor any dungeon, there resided a long stone tower. This tower held many floors, and upon one such floor, a meeting was taking place. Eight people were seated around a large stone table. It was the kind that nobility would use, with a single chair at the head of the table where the "leader" resided.
"Tik. Tok. Tik. Tok. Tik. Tok." In the dark room, the sound of a clock rang out.
In the eighth chair, a large grandfather clock resided. It rested upright; wood and metal were formed into its shape, and where the face of the clock should have been, a pair of eyes peered out, wide and bloodshot. The front of it showed a glass window, revealing dozens of organs that all pumped a black ichor through the abomination.
Tik: Representing Those who once were. The being who should not exist.
"Don't be such a crybaby." A gruff voice growled out. "It isn't my fault I found one of the seven, and you didn't, Tik. Adam wrote three pages, and it just so happens it came down to me."
In the seventh chair sat a massive mutant. It had the head of a horse, but its flesh was covered in fish scales, and blood dripped down its chin as its lips quivered in pure anger. It smelled of blood and death.
Rage: Representing Mutants and Monsters. The beast from the sea, who once ruled the kingdom deep below.
"I'll admit, I am a bit sad I also didn't get to see one of the seven. After my last battle, letting one get away fills me with deep shame. Oh well!"
In the sixth chair was a man or woman whose head would often change. They wore all-white suits, and their eyes were pink and shaped like flowers.
Bloom: Representing Gallenth and those who find joy. The one who was cursed to walk this world from now until then.
"At least you three got to have fun. I wasn't even allowed to participate in the upcoming battle. Oh, how I would have loved to turn one of the seven into my puppet."
In the fifth chair, an elderly man toyed away with a small wooden doll which he held. He had long grey hair and a grey beard, and his eyes were slit-like as he tinkered with the doll. A moment later, a mass of tendrils was in his place, but then just as quickly as it appeared, they vanished, the frail old man once again in the chair.
The Lord of Threads: Representing Rossum and the insane. The mad man who marched into the abyss and became one with it.
"It wouldn't do if people saw you running around so soon, you old monster. You already disobeyed us once, a few months back, and left a victim alive who reported you to the kingdom. Most of us are unknown to exist, but if anyone saw your face running around, then they'd likely send the Holy Saint or that Dragon Slayer after us."
In the fourth chair was the only woman in the room. She was dressed in an elegant dark gown, and a cloak rested over her shoulders. Her skin was a ghostly white, and her hair was the color of ravens, while a pair of blood red eyes peered in the direction of the Lord of Threads with a disapproving gaze.
Rosette: Representing The Damned and the ones who stalk the night. The maiden who did it all for love and accepted the pain of the world.
"..."
In the third chair, a man sat quietly with his arms folded. He wore black ebony armor that looked as if the shadows themselves had come to life, and intense blue flames spilled out of the gaps where the eyes should have been. His helm was shaped like that of a hawk, and a cape of black feathers was draped down his back. A claymore rested in the ground next to him, impaled.
Emperor Monarch: Representing Mordheim and the past that is gone. The current Emperor of the Mordheim nation, the one who declared war on Rossum.
"Worry not, Monarch, Lord of Threads, I'll give you all a turn in the next chapter. It'll be written out soon."
In the second-to-last chair resided a man with snow-white hair and soft purple eyes. A kind smile was on his face, and he wore simple white robes. A longsword was at his belt, one that had a handle shaped like a quill, and a book rested on the table in front of him.
Adam: Representing Humanity and himself. The lonely author who suffered the most. The main character.
Adam turned to the last figure that resided at the table. The one at the very end. "So, now that we're all here properly, do you care to start the meeting, 'my Lord'?"
Yes. That's right. Despite being the main character, despite being the one this story was about, and despite being connected to it all, Adam Hawker was not the leader, nor was he the one in charge.
Yet.
The one in charge of this group was an older man. A very, very old man. He was short and almost frail-looking. His skin was battered and scarred, and he had a bald head and a long grey beard even more impressive than the Lord of Threads. Loose black robes covered his form, and his hands held a long wooden cane. If not for the pair of jagged horns that jutted out of either side of his head, one might think this was someone's grampa.
Mordred: Representing Dragons and the race that stands above all others. The son of Sigurd, and the leader of the Dragon Dwellers organization. Possibly the strongest being on this planet.
Eight…
Eight representatives, all from different parts of the world, who wanted to support those they represented. These eight people have all come together to kill the seven.
Seven…
Seven inheritors. Seven people who unknowingly hold back the Path that these eight want.
Mordred was silent for several moments as his dull eyes gazed at the other seven warriors he had gathered. He loked tired and like he was barely being held together. Each person in this room was his follower. Each one served him loyally, for in a world where power meant everything, he alone stood at the top. Finally, he spoke.
"Which of the seven died?" His voice was quiet, yet it held more power behind it than any foolish king.
Rage flinched slightly when those tired eyes landed on him, but he managed to find his voice and started to speak to his leader. "Sir, I slaughtered the one who inherited his thoughts."
Mordred gave the faintest sign of a nod. "So one of the seven is really dead?"
"Yes." Rage also nodded. "His name was Rosco Moore."
"I wrote his death and confirmed it," Adam interjected. "I had Rage, Tik, and Bloom attack the designated spots. At the time, I didn't know his exact whereabouts, but with three shots in the dark, I knew we would be bound to find one and slay them. Unlike the last time, this one actually died properly."
"So why did my target not die when I killed him?" Bloom let out a sigh and shook his head, which had changed four times in the meeting. "Does mine seriously have access to Roads-Polymorph? Talk about unfair."
"We can trade." The Lord of Threads spoke up. "Mine has access to boring old fire magic. I don't want to fight someone like that. It might burn my precious puppets up."
"Ha." Rosette rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Don't use that as an excuse. If that man does have Roads-Polymorph, you just want to turn him into a puppet so you can have him. Still, I wouldn't mind trading you. My target is that blasted woman who was blessed by the moon."
"Tik. Tok. Tik. Tok. Tik. Tok."
"Yes, yes, you'll get your chance, Tik." Bloom patted the clock. "Your target is related to mine, so maybe we'll get to team up."
"My turn is next." The Lord of Threads shook his head. "It's time I get to do something. Staying in my dungeon has driven me a bit mad."
"I think that's just because you're insane," Rosette responded, giving the old man a flat look.
"..." Monarch stayed silent and didn't say anything.
"Adam." Everyone went silent as Mordred began to speak once more. "Why did someone survive your story?" The old man's eyes bore into Adam, who kept his smile up and didn't flinch as he met Mordred's stare head-on. "Need I remind you, this is the second time a member of the seven survived. First, you allowed your target to get away, and now Bloom's also still lives?"
"Well, sir, the working theory is that the one who goes by Davi Hawker had access to Roads-Polymorph. My powers are great, truly they are, but the Great Dragon of Roads sadly outclasses my ability to weave the Path we desire. If the narrative of my story was broken, it means a greater narrative took its place. I wrote Davi's death, and yet someone else wrote that he survived, changing the plot. Such an outcome has happened once in the past, and that was because of the Great Dragon of Roads."
"No mortal can have Roads-Polymorph." Mordred's voice remained calm and level, though it now held venom in each word. "To suggest such a thing is an insult to all Dragons everywhere. If not for your use, I'd have your head. What is more likely? A human has an impossible power, or you had a moment of weakness and felt soft. After all, you and he are kin, are you not? Adam Hawker."
"We are not." Adam let out a soft chuckle. "I can personally assure you, when it comes to Davi Hawker, I hold not even the faintest bit of attachment. He's not my brother, my cousin, or anything like that. I wrote his death first, specifically to get him out of the way, and to prove that I hold no attachment to the Hawker bloodline. It was also why I assigned Bloom to be the one to slaughter him, but if you wish, I can go and slay him myself."
"I can vouch for Adam," Bloom stated. His usual smirk and bravado were gone when Mordred stared at him. "Adam's story did indeed go through. I was able to arrive and slaughter Davi Hawker, one of the seven. I ripped his heart out and was sure that I finished him off, yet somehow he still lives. It seems the plot denied his death. Just give the word, and I'll go and remove his head this time. I'll chop him into tiny little pieces and will reduce him to ash. He won't come back a second time. That I swear."
Mordred finally shifted his gaze, and his eyes began to flicker over the seven people in the room—Adam, Monarch, Rosette, the Lord of Threads, Bloom, Tik, and lastly Rage. "You seven have each been assigned a target to kill. One of the seven inheritors is dead, but six still remain. Rage, do not think that your job is done, for we all will not rest until all seven have died. Those who have met the Dragon of Roads must be wiped out. The Path to Rome is rapidly approaching. We will finish it." Mordred's hand balled into a fist. "We will all reach Rome. And when we do. I'll take the Dragon of Roads head myself. He will die."
The meeting finally ended after that. One of the seven was gone, but six still remained. Six people still needed to die.
When the meeting finally ended, only two people remained in the room. Adam glanced at Monarch, who remained motionless in his chair. The man stood as still as a statue, dressed in the armor that had once belonged to the one who had almost threatened the world. The Ebony Knight.
"Is there something bothering you, Emperor of Mordheim?" Adam questioned, though he held a knowing smirk. This part of the story was always so dull. Part of him hoped things could speed up. After all, the time when he would get to see "her" again was rapidly approaching.
Monarch finally shifted and unfolded his arms. The blue fire around him seemed to grow more intense, and his helmet twisted to look at Adam. Whispers began to seep out; dozens of voices, some belonging to men, others to women, and some to kids, all speaking over one another, as if an entire room full of people resided behind his helm. All the ones who had perished.
[Yes. Something is bothering me.] The voice was distorted and complex to make out, but Adam had this conversation over a thousand times now, and so knowing what the words were was child's play to him.
"What bothers you, dear Emperor?"
[None of you are taking this seriously.] The Emperor's voice twisted, and space began to bend. [You all act as if taking out the six remaining ones will be an easy endeavor. Now that one has fallen, the other six, especially the ones who know, will be on high alert. It would have been better to slay all seven at once.]
"And yet that can't be done." Adam shook his head. "Some of us have been assigned targets that are tricky to deal with. Rosette likely can't defeat her target alone, and you..." Adam chuckled softly. "No offense, my old friend, but we both know you won't be able to take your target out on your own either. After all, without a doubt, yours is the strongest. Some do require others to be out of the way so the rest of us can team up. You were right; however, the others are being a little cocky. I don't think they understand what we've truly done. It isn't the remaining six that we must be ready for."
[It isn't?]
"No." Adam shook his head. "They're bad, don't get me wrong, but we just leveled three cities to the ground." His smirk grew. "I wonder how many people want revenge. What will they throw away to get it? Where exactly will this story go? A new twist has just occurred. It's time for character development."
Meanwhile, in the Esteria kingdom, in a dark room, Olivia sat curled in a ball. Tears no longer streamed down her face. They had long since dried up.
"Maya."
The room remained silent.
"Maya," Olivia said again, but sharper this time.
Finally, a blue box shimmered before her. Despite being in the real world, despite Maya claiming it couldn't, despite this being proof that Maya had lied, Olivia ignored all of that, her cold eyes staring at the text as it slowly wrote her a message.
'Yes?'
"I want to get stronger. I don't care how. Make me powerful.'
':] Okay.'
Not a Devil, but a deal with something just as bad had been created.