FINAL CORE - Chapter 44 (Patreon)

Darkness.

Of the many elemental attributes present in the world, darkness is by far the most  controversial.

The core elemental attribute behind all magic is the attribute ‘Arcane’. Arcane is pure, unadulterated magic, untouched by any element or spice.

Below that, it diverges into several fundamental core elements. For example -

Holy : Air : Fire : Nature : Ice : Water : Dark

These are simply some of the roots of the elemental tree.

A single step deeper and they diverge fully into a mass of incomprehensible complexity. For example, between the prongs of ‘Nature’, ‘Water’ and ‘Dark’ lies the ‘Poison’ attribute. Between ‘Air’ and ‘Fire’ lies ‘Lightning’.

While some attributes are favored amongst our people for their utility, pragmatism, or even showmanship, others are favored for different reasons. ‘Holy’ is the one that we of the faith are the most proud of. We devote our entire lives to learning of this strange remnant of the gods.

On the far end of this contrast lies the attribute ‘Dark’.

To say that the church and that those of the faith do not care for this element is an understatement. People who are unlucky enough to have been born with an affinity to ‘Dark’, or to any of its sub-attributes, such as ‘Ash’ or ‘Poison’, are scorned by polite society.

Adventurers often do not have this problem with each other and in fact, find these kinds of unlucky people very useful for their unusual ability to fight and aid in their work.

But don’t expect to see that same necromancer, who helped a party fight through a dungeon, invited to their table at the guild afterwards.

The worst offender to our magical system are, however, the witches.

Their world-breaking misuse of the element is a malignancy present in the system of attributes.

— They must be removed.

~ Introduction into priesthood for beginners. Chapter nine.

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Feathers fly through the air as Isaiah’s wings press open wide, the shaking blade that is clutched in its porcelain grasp striking against a misaligned, clawed hand attached to a strangely misshaped being.

The witch, who perhaps has looked like a human before, now has a face like the skull of a canine, covered in taut skin. Black hair flows off her visage, as if she were a drowning corpse. Her eyes are alight with a shine akin to the glow of the crooked moon.

— Black, oily rain drops down around them, burning the grass and befouling the land.

She shrieks, lifting a hand to pull free from their stalemate and points at him with a crooked, long finger.

(Perchta) used: [CURSE]

An odd, hissing smoke shoots towards Isaiah. The body of the spell twists and churns, winding like the body of a viper. PREDATOR. Isaiah’s old bird instincts kick in and it shoots back, pressing off into the air as the maw of the snake snaps shut where it had just been standing.

It resists the old urge to ‘pook’.

“Witch Perchta,” says Isaiah, hovering in the air now it has a moment. “I apologize for our carelessness,” it concedes. “Please. Let us make amends. We will fix your home.”

She points up toward it with a long, crooked finger. “…Carelessness?” she asks in her crooning voice. Her feet rising into the air like a departing spirit. Despite her being down below, Isaiah hears her whispering into its ears. “Carelessness, when the bell rings day and night, disturbing my quiet rest?” she asks.

Something is wrong with her silhouette, standing down below in the moonlight. It’s quivering, waving around as if it were a reflection in a body of disturbed water.

— Isaiah drops down, pulling its head in just in time as another serpent, made up of a dark colored smoke, snaps its jaws shut just where it had been a moment ago. It turns around, shooting just across the forest floor as it faces the real witch, who is hovering where it had been a moment ago. “Carelessness, when my view of the world is obstructed by your eyesore? When people, who have been terrified of my forest, now wander through it in the hundreds?”

Isaiah holds its sword, looking around itself for her. There is another ‘image’ of her, remaining where she was a moment ago. But Isaiah is confident that it isn't the real Perchta. She’s using the same trick as before again.

In an odd flashback, Isaiah can’t help but recall when it had first awoken in this life and seen itself in the river.

The wind shifts.

Isaiah slashes up with the sword, just above itself.

The snake is cut in half, diverging into two paths, the remnants of the smoke falling down like a cloud of fungal spores.

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- Red -

Uthra, Female, [Worker{3}]

“I’m gonna do it! Let me go!” says Rorate, looking down at the fight below, pulling back against Red, who is dragging her back into the house. She winces as the rain strikes her skin, burning her.

“- Get fucked, long-ears!” snaps Red. “Fishing you out of the water is one thing, but I’m not on scraping duty anymore!” she barks. “That’s Crystal’s job!” She has already used her magic to cast a shielding spell down on the ground for the people and also around the nest of blackbirds. She doesn’t have any magic left for Rorate now.

Red yanks Rorate back, throwing her inside of the house and slamming the door back shut.

Red shakes her head, looking down the side.

This is going to be a problem. She needs to do something, but what…

— The uthra looks around herself, staring off towards the distance as the idea comes to her.

She flies down the side of the tower as fast as she can.

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- Isaiah -

“- Carelessness, when you scar the land and destroy my home?” asks a voice in its ear. Isaiah feels a hand grabbing its ankle. It looks down at the claw, holding onto it. Witch Perchta narrows her eyes. “— That is not being careless. It is selfishness,” she says.

The blackwater that stains the ground, flooding over it like a draping blanket of oil, bubbles in a strange movement. The surface, sleek and unusually glossy, is disturbed by streaks moving beneath itself, like parasitic worms burrowing just beneath a layer of skin.

A man who had climbed up onto a tree, who the uthra haven’t gotten to yet, slips as he loses his grip.

Isaiah moves towards him, but a hand yanks him back.

The man falls, splashing into the black ooze and screams, flailing around as he begins to sink into it, despite the impossibility of him doing so. The grass is just beneath the layer of ooze, but he’s vanishing and kicking and flailing as if he were sinking in the deepest ocean.

Hands rise up out of the blackwater, grabbing his screaming face wherever they can grasp — In his open mouth, on his hair, in his eyes, and they tear him down into the nothingness below, until he simply vanishes.

“— I was here first,” says Perchta, narrowing her eyes. “Here is how you make amends.”

(Perchta) used: [CURSE]

The bell-tower rings as something massive strikes against it. The resounding gong echoes around at the very unusual hour, reverberating through their bones.

(Perchta) has been repelled by [Holy Bell]’s DARK repelling effect

Perchta yells in annoyance as her hand and body are repelled. The curse flies off to the side and Isaiah cuts through it with the sword, before spinning around and swiping down towards her.

— She lets go and the blade misses as she flies back.

The bell rings again and Perchta flies back another step, covering her ears and howling. Blackwater pours down her skull-like face from the rain, her hair matted and wet now drops at her side.

(Perchta) has been repelled by [Holy Bell]’s DARK repelling effect

Isaiah lifts the sword.

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- Red -

Uthra, Female, [Worker{3}]

“Come on you shit!” yells Red, leaning in. “Do it again!”

The priestess and the golem from floor six of the tower stand there, staring vacantly with dull expressions.

Red flies in, grabbing the rim of her collar. “I didn’t carry your fat-asses all the way up here for you to just stand around!” she snaps, slapping the priestess across the face. “Do it again!”

— The priestess doesn’t respond and the two of them just stand there.

A blur of movement shoots past the outside balcony.

Red turns to look as Isaiah shoots past, rising up higher into the sky. A twisted, screeching shadow shoots up after it into the air, snarling and snatching like a rabid wolf on the heels of a deer.

She tsks in annoyance, turning back to look at the priestess.

Red narrows her eyes, looking at the homunculus. Something has changed on her face. Her expression seems more… alive? “GET TO IT!” yells Red, shaking her.

The massive golem roars in fury, arching its arm back as it swings out towards Red.

— The uthra dodges out of the way. The golem’s massive fist strikes against the bell again a third time now, ringing it aloud.

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- Isaiah -

Isaiah shoots up into the air, flying as high as it can go. Ravenous teeth, covered in foul smears snatch and snap just behind itself, catching the loose feathers it leaves in flight.

The crescendo of the bell strikes out again through the night.

The creature behind itself shrieks and howls, stopping mid-flight as it spasms together.

Isaiah turns to look at the witch who is clutching her head, her body returning to its normal shape.

The bell rings again.

In the night, the air changes. There is a movement far above and the clouds part way, the moon losing its coherent presence and simply becoming a part of the night once again.

The bell rings again.

The face projected before the moon is entirely erased. The ground begins to become visible again. The rain slows and then stops.

“- You ruined my home!” yells Perchta.

Isaiah shakes its head. “We will fix it. I promise.”

The witch points at Isaiah with a finger, her long-crooked hands returning to the shape of those of a normal human’s. “This isn’t over!” she warns.

Isaiah lifts the sword into the air as she loses momentum, her flight coming to an end.

The blade glints, catching the rays of the moonlight which now shine in true and uncorrupted. “It is,” says Isaiah, as it plunges down towards her.

— Perchta falls. The sword gleams.

The image of the woman distorts, quivering as if it were a reflection upon water and Isaiah spins around, seeing through the trick just as before.

The sword pushes through the clawed hand of the witch, catching it in mid-strike as it was reaching towards Isaiah from behind. She hisses, blackwater and spit coming from between her clenched teeth.

(Isaiah) has pierced (Perchta) for {09} HOLY damage

It pulls the blade free and catches Perchta.

It isn’t entirely unsympathetic. After all, this is all about a nest, isn’t it?

For itself, it was about its own old nest and now it's about its new nest, the tower. Just the same, Perchta is here because of her nest, her house.

“I’ll settle this,” says Perchta, narrowing her eyes. “You wait,” she says, leaning in towards its face, her features and bones returning to those of a human’s as the magic of the witch’s moon fades away. “When it’s dark and when the night is here and when you lay in your bed, I’ll be there and I’ll snatch your eyes out,” she warns.

“I would prefer if you came in the morning,” replies Isaiah. “We could enjoy the spring together then,” it says. She hisses, lashing out to try and bite it in the face in a last ditch attempt. “Good night, Witch Perchta,” says Isaiah.

(Isaiah) used: [Minor Heal] on (Perchta)

Restored HP to 100% {93%}

“I’LL GET YOU!”

Isaiah nods, letting her go. “- As long as it is only me.”

The woman falls down into the darkness, the wind and the force of her drop fluttering her robe and as she falls, vanishing into the darkness out of Isaiah’s eyesight, it knows that she never lands on the ground below.

It flies down, returning to the ground, hoping there is anything below left to salvage. Not only of the tower, but of the people and of this new relationship that was meant to have been established with their kind.