[hr][hr][center][color=black][b][h2]The Apostates Two[/h2][/b][/color] [b]Somewhere in the Heartlands[/b] [sub][b]Act II | Pit of Vipers[/b][/sub][/center] [hr][hr] [center][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/b5/f8/ed/b5f8edd00708572b8a18821ff1afe5cd.jpg[/img][/center] [i]"Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark."[/i] [hr][hr] The final hour of days work had signaled with the grim toll of the town's bell. The sound echoed through the villa with slow vibrations. Already many were returning to their homes, the recent arrival of a merchant caravan had marked a day of rare excitement for many. But already the market stalls were being packed away as those same merchants retired to their tents for the night. Angelica knew her mother would scold her for staying out past curfew, but after a day in the market (where a particularly generous merchant had given her a bag of sweets for free) she wished to visit one of her newest friends she had made only recently. Old man Taba had only recently become part of the town’s community. An old wanderer that had decided to make his home in the little villa, Her father had called him an [i]hermit[/i], which sounded like a rather silly name to Angelica. Making her way up the small hillock that sat on the western edge of the villa, Angelica soon found old man Taba on his log, watching the sun set over the horizon. He sat wrapped in his old cloak, the kind she had come accustomed to seeing. Against the log was his staff, a dark wooden stave he often used to aid him in walking. His hood was pushed back currently, allowing her to see his balding head and white hair, with an oval face and sharp chin that held a chest-long beard. He seemed serene and sat so still she almost believed for a moment he had merely died on the spot. Too old and tired to even fall over proper. At that moment she held the very real fear, he might, in fact, be dead, but she noted the subtle shift of his body now and again. She silently sighed in relief and smiled to herself as she thought of playing a little trick on old Tab. She crept up behind Taba with slow and deliberate steps. By the time she was only five steps away, Taba had spoken, spooking Angelica with the suddenness of it. So caught off guard she did not even catch what Taba had said. After a short but pregnant pause, Taba repeated himself. "Oh, sorry if I startled you, the fair must have ended I take it." As he spoke, he retrieved a pipe from within the depths of his cloak. "Y-you didn't," Angelica responded with as much dignity as she could muster. Recovering quickly she blurted out, "I wanted to hear another one of your stories! Pleease!" Taba seemed to sigh as he filled his pipe with a black herb, eventually lighting it before finally saying, "very well, but after you must promise to return home before dark, you don't want your mother getting worried over you now!" Angelica nodded fervently before taking a seat on the log at Tab's prompting. They spent an entire candlemark there with Taba recalling past tales he had gained in his travels and Angelica paying close attention. Soon the day had been all but spent, and despite much protesting, Angelica eventually agreed to return home. Taba watched her descend the length of the hill and smiled to himself. He had come to find begrudging pleasure in these little moments. The people of this villa had shown him an extraordinary kindness Taba knew; he dared say they were beginning to grow on him. Normally there was rightful suspicion when a stranger came into such small communities. However, it seemed as long as Taba kept to himself and caused no trouble, the people here were happy to let him be. He exhaled a puff of smoke and watched as the last fingers of light vanished behind the horizon, even now the first glimpse of Azueral’s Eye appearing above the skyline. He waited there as the shadows grow long, and darkness began to overtake the landscape. A keen eye might take note of the odd fact Taba seemed to cast no shadow of his own in the failing light; just sitting and waiting for something. Or someone. “You [i]are[/i] the sentimental sort, aren’t you, old man?” A cold and cruel voice rang out from the darkness behind him. Like the full moon on a starless night, and existence of pure white approached. A white cloak, white skin, white hair, a white veil. Like a hole in the world where all darkness and color had ceased to be. He smiled as Taba turned to face him, his lip curling up to reveal his white fangs. Taba lifted an eyebrow at the dark apparition, seemingly unbothered as he met the man's gaze with an unreadable one of his own. Tab returned his stare to the horizon, faded pupils seeming to scan the sky. "You could learn a lesson in subtlety, even if one learns to hide their shadow. Looking the part of the unassuming is a valuable skill." The man known as Taba knocked the edge of his pipe against the log he sat upon, shaking loose some of the burnt embers within, "at least you remain punctual." “Subtlety is for the weak. May the powerless avert their eyes in shame, and the bold be blinded by my glory.” Walking closer to the older man, he squatted at a position perpendicular to him rather than sit alongside him. “Now what is your business?” Adding more crushed herbs to his pipe Taba gave a single nod, "mhm, yes. The bold words of youth yet untested... often it mirrors the words of the foolish." Bringing the pipe to his lips he snapped a finger, lighting the contents instantly. "The Keeper gods of old believed they were all powerful. Unchallengeable." He inhaled sharply, then exhaled a single stream of smoke. "Then the ancients came and merely changed the rules. Now many are cast down, destroyed, or dead. Their arrogance paid for in blood." Taba’s eyes wandered up and settled on the half moon that hung in the night's sky, he pointed the end of his pipe in it’s direction. “Tell me, when you look up what do you see?” At Taba’s prompting, the white man looked up at the moon, not bothering to remove the opaque veil over his eyes. “The eye of the aeons, waiting to be torn open. A realm yet unconquered.” Taba nodded, "and one seeking to devour us all." Taba took another drag from his pipe, "but more than that. An opportunity few can see. For they see only the obvious. Yet...very, few indeed can read the signs." Taba reached for his staff and took hold of it, and with careful and deliberate movements, draw a circle in the dirt before him with the butt of it. "This world is a predictable one of cycles and patterns when you know what to look for. Every few centuries that old beast in the sky rears its ugly head and every time night blankets the land to shield us from the power of that eclipse. That much even the common folk know, for [i]she[/i] is possessed of as much arrogance as those fallen gods." As the circle was completed Taba paused a moment, "but lesser known is there are signs of the coming of true night. For Azueal's Eye is a thing bound by cycles." Taba looked skyward once more, "this night it takes on an amethyst shade. The next it will be a blood-like crimson. So on and so one. That in itself is of little importance since one can expect the intervention of [i]her[/i].... but at that moment of intervention, she is at her most vulnerable. None know [i]this[/i] fact, even the Archon's are left out of this knowledge... save one of course." Exhaling through his nose, Taba produced a lopsided smile, "Such an opportunity then presents itself to those with the knowledge and boldness to take it." He slowly made a fist with his free hand and held skyward as if to pluck the moon from the sky with not but his hand, "I do not share this lightly my fellow apostate, for even knowing this much is enough to make one's life forfeit in this empire built on blood." He paused once more as if in thought, "what I will propose tonight my young friend, is something I shall only offer once. But I must first know you will be committed to this course once taken. There can be no going back, and only absolute destruction for us both should failure find us upon this road." “I have ceased to stand at the edge of oblivion. I am the void and it is me.” His companion answered, in his usual roundabout way. Taba nodded, "well enough," he looked down toward the village with an expression unreadable in the dark gloom of approaching night. "So let us prepare the ground then. There live four grand solar priests of Kammeth, the sleeping god, that reside within the borders of the Empire. These four men must die." The cold wind of night swept across the hilltop, sending leaves into the air. "In this unassuming village lives one of these men," Taba lifted a hand and tapped the side of his head. "Each holds within their gray matter but a single piece of a spell of binding. No one priest is even aware of the identity of his other fellows, so if one was found, he could never betray the identity of the other holders. Thankfully I have long since located each one and -- with your aid-- we shall find and kill out each one in turn. Tonight Bishop Nolestien Genert of Reviran will be the first." Taba produced a bound scroll from a satchel on the log next to him and nonchalantly tossed it toward his companion. "That possess the names and location of two others; you must dispatch them and remove their heads. You need not take either of them alive for what is needed. You would do well to slaughter every man, woman, and child of the towns they reside in. There can be no witnesses." "Let it appear as a raid or attack of vilepawn as you wish; the priests have gone to great pains to hide themselves. This will be to our advantage for one maimed body will be easily overlooked in a field of them. So the others will not know it is they who are being hunted, offering us ample time to find them." The stranger in white listened with what seemed to be disinterest, but the veil over his eyes made his expression difficult to read. As Taba concluded, he stood up suddenly and crossed his arms in a pose of dominance. “Very well. This hamlet shall hear the opening notes of the song that ends the world.” As Taba was about to reply, out of the corner of his eye he spotted a small figure approach. The other man sensed it as well, turning his eyeless face in the direction of the figure. As it neared and became clearer, Taba’s heart sank. It was Angelica, stolen out from her bed with a bundle over her shoulder. His throat tightened, and his brow furrowed. He had hoped that she would be asleep for what was to come. He looked to his companion, hoping to read his intentions, but found that his expression was utterly void of emotion. “Taba!” She called to him as she came near enough to see the two, “It’s getting cold tonight, so I brought you a blanket! I brought a honeydrop too, just to thank you for the stories!” [i]Foolish child,[/i] the old man thought intently, [i]Don’t come closer, please.[/i] Eventually she grew near enough that they could clearly see her expression in the moonlight. She smiled generously, showing the gaps where her infant teeth had fallen out, and her breathing was slightly labored from the trek up the hill. Taking note of the other man, she looked up at him in wonder, clearly astounded by his unusual presence. “Wow, who is this? Is this one of your friends?” She smiled again, approaching the stranger. “My name is Angelica, it’s nice to meet you.” Taba wanted to reach out to her and stop her, or at the very least tell her to run away and not look back. But he couldn’t, and he knew it. This was only the beginning, and he had to harden his heart now for what was to come. It was for Sadayni's sake after all, and he had and would suffer and do far worse to rectify the wrongs of his past. His companion was far less troubled, and looked down at Taba disdainfully, “Nothing?” He scoffed. “As I said before: [i]sentimental[/i].” The man lifted his veil, revealing the eyes beneath. They were demon’s eyes; orbs of brilliant crimson that burned like the fires of hell. He looked down at the girl, and she up at him. As soon as their gazes met, the girl’s flesh turned to ash, and she blew away in the wind. No scream, no cry, only the sound of her clothes and the blankets she carried landing softly in the grass. The man replaced his veil, and began to walk down the hill. He gestured to Taba without looking at him. “Come, old man. I won’t do all of your work for you.” The man known as Taba did not move for a heartbeat, face unreadable beneath his cowl. He slowly rose to his feet, only offering the briefest glance to where Angelica once stood. He turned away then and placed a hand over his face, dark swirls of blackening mist engulfing his visage. His attire changing in the span of a heartbeat, becoming a dark coat of a style that had long since been forgotten by this world; from an age and people long gone. He lowered his hand, revealing a mask as dark as the abyss with piercing glowing eyes of a sick pale gleam. So let it begin, he thought. If the world demanded he become a monster to achieve the justice robbed of him so long ago, he would become that monster. And so much more. Reviran would only be the first bloody stepping stone. May Sadayni forgive him.