The sound of a flute carried through the village, a whisper on the wind something ethereal.
It crept between buildings, fondled the ear and shook the soul.
Desert mice curled over under the tones that washed over them, closing their eyes for one last time as they allowed the music entice them into a dreary endless sleep.
It was something not meant to be heard by the human ear, or any ear for that matter. The villagers, whether they were asleep or rising early in the mornings creeping light, all listened.
Eldritch fingers of the sun's like dragged the sun above the horizon, like a creeping dread.
" .... " A man rose from his woman's side, dawdling like a zombie to the window sill of their home, to stare at the chapel where the music originated.
" ... " He wasn't the only one to simply stare, as men and women all about the town walked to the nearest view point to stare apon the chapel in all its enraptured glory.
Seconds ... minutes... hours, they lost track of time as the sun crept higher and higher despite the alien music harrowing the village.
By the time the music stopped, as Shrews lay deceased in the dried up fields, roses slowly budding from their corpses, as birds previously flying lay fallen from the heavens. The call had been made, and the villagers were forced to gather, lest their blessings be torn from them like a toy from a joyous child.
Like a stream of water, they flowed from their homes and made their way to the chapel, the chapel barely large enough to hold them.
Nobody uttered a single word, didn't dare too, as the open chapel doors greeted their slow moving arrival. They crammed in, the children coming to sit at the front of the formation, as the adults all knelt in lines amd rows in order to fit within the confines of this almost holy place.
Sitting on his unremarkable stone throne, Malak lowered the flute from behind the veil, placing the entirely silver and red instrument on his lap, a silence following that made everyone but Malak and Uhar uneasy.
With a show of station, his parents were fashionably late, slowly walking through the crowds, heads held high like they were exempt from the rules imposed on the rest of the village.
They sat slowly before his feet, father to the right and mother to the left, and everyone waited for the gospel that would leave their lips.
" It is a momentus day ... " It began, with strange spectacle as both mother and father spoke in tandem for a change rather than one at a time.
As Malak adjusted his seating. Leaning on the back of his right arm whilst studying the children closely as he spoke.
" What is so momentus milord... " The village chieftain, Uhar's own father spoke up from near the front row of the crowd.
' They're hungry ... all of them' Eight children between the ages of six and sixteen stared at him. The hunger in their eyes, the near gaunt faces pricked pale by sickness.' I provided food enough to feed these children a hundred life times ... and they stare at me with eyes dead, vacant save for hunger'
Dark eyes flickered to Contrell, Uhar's father, staring at his bulbous stomach, fat from gorging himself on food and spoiling himself with riches.
' You fat sad man.... starving the children of your own home town whilst you sit in your den under the warmth of hearth and enjoy meals aplenty ' His head dipped forward as Contrell's question remained yet unanswered.
It wasn't just the fat chieftain, but them all, everyone from the town he hadn'tblessed in years after healing an ailment or giving good luck, sat plump and proud behind their withering children. In a village surrounded by what should have been vibrant forests, but was little more than barren wastes made by their own hand.
" Milord ... " The question drew him out of his budding temper, as Contrell drew his gaze once more.
' One more test ... to decide ... ' His brow furrowed and teeth bared unseen by the masses, but he spoke with regal amd kind calm.
" I have wonderous news ... " Slowly, in a show meant to draw out the true feelings of the villagers, he grasped the edge of the stone throne, and slowly lifted himself up with wobbly feet.
" He ... can walk" Disbelief murdered through the crowds in soft whispers, their eyes narrowing, not in delight but with closely guarded fear.
" When did this occur " Contrell whispered, eyes darting to the silent whom were all staring at Malak as confused as everyone else ... everyone... except for Uhar. ' You knew ... '
She stood at his side, to the left of the throne an obelisk of shadow and threat, silent malice toward anyone whom would so much as breath on her lord the wrong way.
' Uhar ... when did you get so tall' He looked apon her properly now, his stupid daughter barely more intelligent than a dog, now stood heads taller than himself to be one of the tallest people he had ever laid eyes on if not the tallest outright. ' It makes sense, with her stupidity she had to get something atleast '
The shadows of the chapels back cast her in a threatening shade, her hand always lowered to the handle of her sword to be drawn at the soonest movement.
" I have regained what I was cursed without at birth... my blessings have brought apon myself great reward... and great boon for all" His magnanimous voice carried, the children looming apon him as some grand being rather than a mere man, whilst the adults behind shifted uncomfortably at his words. His parents translating his thoughts finally comprehending what was being said.
" As such ... I feel my time here grows short, I have spent much time within this hollow chamber ... and desire to see the world beyond ... alone " Now the murmurs grew louder, the silent shuffling at his words, his parents turning to look at him thought their expressions couldn't quite be read.
" I wish for something my self ... now, i ask that in my absense that the town prosper, that the blessings i have bequeathedby maintained, the forests outside watered well and the grain portioned to last until the time more can be grown" His words were met with what he expected, jaded and conniving eyes, darting between eachother conspiratorially. For they knew none of those blessings existed anymore by their own hand. Their meal ticket was leaving, openly declaring so.
The man that had kept the village running for nearly two decades, was showing signs of going against their wishes. He was threatening to leave then alone... without his gifts, the gifts he had so graciously used for them for their grandeur since his birth. And that ... was something none of them could afford.
The villagers knew it, the man and the women knew it, and so did the silent who made use of their special status at every convenience.... all except for Uhar.
He turned away from the gathered, raounding the throne and staring at the back of the chapel with arms clasped behind his back. And then he heard it, the sound he knew was coming. As the system panel exploded to life before his eyes.
[ Status updated.
True loyalty: 1
Undecided:8
Enemies detected: 42 ]
He froze, back still yet turned to the group, becoming tense as he cast a silent, missed glance between Uhar, then looked over his shoulder to the silent to his mother and father who all beheld him.
He had hoped that atleast one of these people would side with him or atleast remain true to neutrality, but he could see it, the way their hands twitched to their weapons as they stared, the way his parents now turned to him fully, the glared they thought he couldn't see underneath their veiled faces.
' So you've chosen' The couldn't see his slow stare passing over them, glaring at each and every silent like they were little more than traitors. Dark eyes becoming alight with wrath stewed over two and half decades. The previously onyx eyes bleeding to something else, something darker .. more unpleasant.
' Uhar ... ' She didn't look at him, but her response came through mental communion. ' They've turned against me, Kill all but three villagers and spare the children ... let these few children hold the future of the village in their hands, let the blood of the guilty wash away the stench of greed and sin and light the flame for future generations to come'
He came to stand behind her, turning to behold the villagers ad a whole a single last time before his will would be acted. He looked at his parents in this life one more time.
' You never considered me your child, never gave the love a child deserves, never held me never soent time with me nor whispered sweet things to me. You could never be like them ... like me true parents ... you could never replace them... and I will treat you accordingly to what you have provided '
With his word she acted without a single beat of hesitation, before the gaze of the villagers, her father and the eyes of the gods themselves, she drew her sword and beheaded the two silent standing either side of the throne in a single stroke of the blade, a wide arc cutting violently through the air, through their necks until the blade fell to her side after completing a full circle.
Precious life blood erupted, spraying her body in the viscus life fluid of her once sisters and brothers, as the only one granted the chance to scathe off death with Invulnerability, as her lords most trusted, felling her sisters and brothers was as simple as cutting through regular small folk.
" UHAR WHAT IS " Malak's father rose, only for the veil to fall from his face, as her sleek uchigatana dove through the front portion of his face, his brain and out through the bottom of his chin as easy as a knife through butter.
' Goodbye father' He felt the blessing of the three return, his body strengthening, his previously wobbly legs becoming thick and powerful, as he rounded and placed himself comfortably back on the stone throne, as Uhar danced a bloodbath through the hallowed grounds of his chapel.
He groaned as he flet the influx of energy, as his father's blessing returned to him, and he acquired a new ability.
[ Blessing returned: You have gained... remote possession : applicable to : 1 follower ]
[ Description : you may connect with and see the world through your truly loyal followers, they may act as your eyes, ears and voice as you speak through them]
His mother rose, black and gold robes fluttering as she bowled her way through the front row of children and into the deceitful townsfolk who knew nothing but greed and deception to the highest order.
" THE SALT DEMON ACTS ... THE GIVER HAS BETRAYED US" The silent rushed, betrayal steeling their blades as they tried to cut through Uhar and directly sick their bloodless weapons on the gift giver.
" KILL THE DEMON AND HIS WITCH" The townsfolk, previously kind, turned like the tide as they either suhed at him with Uhar jarring their path, or fled through the doors of the chapel.
As their cries echoed, whilst the children ducked low, the oldest no older than twelve, cowering under the rushing feet and shifting fabric of the battle being fought overhead.
Blood coated the floor, as three blades swirled and pierced Uhars chest, sinking through her breastplate, the three blades sinking into the flesh between her breaststroke, spraying the ground bloody in her own fluids.
" .... " She fell to one knee for but a moment, yet that would not stall her, left arm shooting out to grasp at the three blades together.
Before the harrowed eyes of the silent whom pierced her chest, and before the gaze of the villagers, she stood, the blades of the weapons in her chest groaning and creaking, as she slowly rose.
Her hand flung out at a silent that tried to pass to her master, blade singing and cutting his head from the neck up.
[ Blessing received... ] He watched the corpse of the silent fall to the ground, grey brain matter splattering to the ground, the veils of white soaking crimson as their bearers bodies splattered the ground with a cold thud.
"..." Uhar pushed forward, the blades breaching through her back and heart, spraying the throne of her master in her life, yet her arm remained strong, and with a savage strike, beheaded the three struggling to stop her forward momentum.
And like that, as her singing blade severed the arms of her would be killers, peeling their chest and breastplate open in a flow of warn crimson that bled to the ground in sticky puddles. Their top halves fell away, cloaks falling away as veiled faces collapsed into puddles of their own blood.
Seeing the last of the silent fall to her blade, the bravado of the villagers broke, gazing apon Uhar standing before Malak like a knight of the realm protecting their king, the stairs at her feet flowing with sticky iron red puddles of viscus crimson.
" What have you become... " Her father took a step back in harrowing fear, the shiftless veil on her face, the gauntlets that folded around the handle of her sword like tightly wound coils of steel. " Uhar ... you simple minded foolish girl "
The villagers stood frozen, not daring to take a single step towards the children fallen to the ground infront of Malak's chair.
Beside Uhar's father, stood Malak's mother, seeing the bloodied silent, the last of the silent, amidst the bloodied puddles of the life blood of those she had grown up beside.
They all stared, and quivered as Uhar took a single step down the steps of the stone throne, her intentiond clear to them all.
" Run.... " The chief uttered a single time before the crowd surged, fleeing through the chapel doors in scores of bodies, one knocking over a torch on the wall, spilling open flame onto the wooden floor.
The flame roared to life on the old dried wooded floor, the crimson carpet underfoot catching as easily as flame.
Malak's mother stepped back with the villagers, as a wall of flame quickly rose between them and Malak, illuminating the chapel in shifting silhouettes of light.
Yet Uhar didn't cease her steps, her belief in her masters gifts holding true as she stepped into the rapidly spreading flame, the sound of hissing echoing from her armoured feet infront of the quaking villagers.
And as Uhar's foot exited the flame, unharmed, her black robes as cool as the outside night, they felt terror surge once more.
Malak's mother didn't hesitate at the approaching monolithic demon , looking apon the body of her husband through the flame a single time before turning and fleeing amidst the villagers, the chieftains cry echoing as the flame roared higher to life.
Malak's mother, raging tempest of greed , fled down the streets as the villagers cried, surging from the streets of the village as a gout of flame burst through the chapel doors. Leaving but Uhar, the unharmed children and Malak alone in the chapel.
" Go Uhar ... finish them all" His voice rumbled amidst the shifting heat of the flame, fearless of their potential harm.
[ Blessing granted : lesser flame protection ] He granted a fleeing villager closest to Uhar that gift just before he was cut down by Uhar's blade , only to have his blessing return as quickly as it was sent.
[ Blessing received: lesser flame protection ]
And so he sat back, having already granted the children around the lesser flame protection needed to survive this howling inferno.
Uhar stepped through the inferno, and into the streets, rushing after the fleeing villagers like a blooded hound.
" What's your name" Malak, despite the carnage around, drew the gaze pf the nearest and oldest of these children.
" Rihard " The onyx eyed, Brown haired boy whispered, Fearful of this creature on the throne.
" Rihard ... I hope you and the others don't hold this against me. They had deceived me you see, I do not reward deception. My blessings have done much, but not what I intended... nor as was advised. I hope ... in my absence, washed free of this villages sin, you and your kin may take the blessings I give you in the ashes of what was ... and make better choices in their place " Screams echoed through the chapel doors, as the children alone with the creature they had been taught god and demon in the same breath, expressed the desire for change.
The wood overhead creaked and groaned, cracking as the foundations of the chapel began to fail, pieces of wood beginning to fall to the ground beside the throne.
Above the groaning of the chapel, the system continually notified him of returned blessings. Blessings of health, blessings of strength or immunity to specific sicknesses.
" Do not let the mistakes if your parents scar your future... "
[ Blessing received: gift of the schemer ]
His chin quivered, he knee exactly whom this blessing was relieved from.
[ Desription : Your lies are layered with half truths and incomplete information. Yet your voice is listened to, your lies are swallowed by the ignorant as truth. You hold sway over the minds of the weak]
' Hm ... ' He stomped the minute sadness that budded in his chest, turning back to the children gazing apon him like he might turn on them at any moment.
" Here ... let this gift giver tell you a tale ... " He beckoned over the children with having hands. And before his eyes, as flames burning between the children and himself, he watched their eyes become enraptured, and he wove his tale ... the tale of his life, the deception of those he thought to trust, spoke his truth... spoke his deception. And swayed the hearts of these impressionable children as Uhar put everyone they had ever known to the blade to the last ... bar three. Three that would guide them, three that would help them grow and restart. The only three allowed to repent for their lies and deception in the wake of the lord of locusts burning wrath.