The Devil | Kavar Lok Kas'Oni
The depths of the cold frozen colorless sea washed over him like putrid glass, cracked apart at the center by the torrential storm immediately summoned by the woman holding onto his wrist. A last-ditch effort to end his life at the cost of hers. Current after current of electric death struck his body, splitting it open in places as if he were a doll of thread and stuffing. Blood of thick blue plasma filled the dark depths in bio-luminescent dances and the words of the Vindicate rang in his mind like a sharp bell: “You know last I checked, gods do not bleed!”
He screeched - muted by the water - in rage and agony, the pain of the wound in his skull mixed with those decorating his increasingly damaged form. His arms cracked and shudder under the weight of the sea, and his legs began to bend at awkward angles as the storm beat down upon him like an oppressive tyrant. His mind shook and frantically crawled for salvation from this fate. Was this the end? Was he wrong this whole time? Had he pushed her too far? These questions had started to run in his suffered mind as he sank further and further towards the grainy sea bed with the woman. The Sea King ready to claim the victims of his magnificent squall.
He could not answer those questions that plagued in time as the woman's storm ended suddenly. He would have sighed in relief, but only cursed for the pain did not end like the lightning. The pain lasted. With one eye, barely able to even perceive his murky surroundings through the dark and the blur, he glared upon his gripped wrist and saw that even blind, deaf, and choking on the ice, unconscious, she still held onto his wrist. The woman would not let him have any inkling of escape. And this was the truth. With the weight of the sea bearing down on his weakened body, which already held a terrible weakness to the waters of the Galaxy, he could not move in any capacity.
Breath was not an issue, of course, for he was not truly living nor dead, but the decay his body would suffer under that sea would doom him to the abyss of hell that awaited. To be clawed apart over and over again like...like he was several times before. Tormented and tortured by those Devils that made his own Devilry look angelic. The pain grew and grew and grew as he thought on this fate, the old fear he had held for so long creeping back up.
"No, no, no," he choked through the waters, trying so desperately to move. "I will not die here. My victory is assured." And how hard he tried to do something at all and escape the watery grave he had been imprisoned in with the woman. He had to escape, escape with her and prove her and everyone else wrong. And then his remaining passed on, as did all sense of the world around him. And so he was left, falling into the abyss to be ripped apart by the icy tomb he would lay in for all time.
In an instant, the fear vanished and he was back in the castle of the Infinite Forest on Credence. He was Kavar again, not this Kascalion. That was his father's name. In deep confusion and wonderment, he moved his head enough to see outside the window to his left. It was nighttime. No storms. No rain. Just empty dark-blue sky. It was perhaps past midnight judging by the position of the white moon and the howling of the hounds outside the city walls. He felt around with his red scarred hands and sighed in relief when he recalled where he was. It was not some dark ocean on a world he had never visited, engaged in mortal combat with a woman he did not know. It was his new bed, covered in the finest linens, and supplied with goblets of red wine and plates of warm buttered bread resting next to him on a stand. He had never left this refurbished keep since conquering the Infinite Forest some odd months ago. So what was any of that that he had just seen? A nightmare?
Something suddenly moved beyond his sight and he rose to his feet in an instant, tossing the linens away and grabbing one of the butter knives from the plate next to his bed. It was dark in the room, with no candles or braziers or sconces lit and burning. He preferred that, for his sight allowed him to see all things in the dark. All manners of beasts and assassins seeking to claim his throne. But...he could not see for some odd reason. He had the gift of night vision gained from his father, but...he still could not see. It was pitch black save for the light of the moon coming through his windows. A large room, too large to fill with such beauty. He was at a disadvantage towards whatever was coming.
"Who's there?" he called out with a firm tone.
"Did it disturb you?" something in that darkness responded, its voice unfamiliar. "What you saw?"
"Who goes there? Show yourself!" he demanded with the voice of a king.
A woman appeared at his demand, entering the light of the moon, robed in black and gold, with curved horns adorning her head and a cloth covering her eyes. He knew at once what she was and lowered his guard just as quickly, silently cursing to himself for being afraid of a creature such as she.
A prophet, of sorts, her species nameless and nomadic, offering their services to whoever paid them or was of pure enough of heart for them to read. Kavar was not pure and had not paid her as far as he knew, but he cared not for whatever minimal threat she could pose to him. Whether his guards were dead and that is how she entered his room, or through one of the windows left open for the night air, she would not kill him. Could not. She was not skilled enough to face a monster like Kavar, no matter the advantage she would have with the darkness and his curious inability to see what lay inside it.
"What do you want, seeress?" he asked, placing the butter knife down on the plate once again.
"To show you what is to come," she said with a slight smile and tilt of her head. "To show you how you will die."
And this was his destiny.
He glanced to the woman's general position in the gloom and felt that her grasp was finally slipping from his decaying wrist. He knew what he had to do, but he did not know if he had the strength to do it in the end. Would he be able to save her and himself? He was weakened and hurt beyond any measurable level and at a clear disadvantage in the waters. He knew that if he let her go, he would be able to muster the strength to escape, at the cost of his body's wellbeing. Months would be needed to repair his body, which would be subjected to the magic of his priests and sorcerers. But what would happen if he saved her? Would he have the strength to survive it? Would his destiny allow it?
"Yes," he hissed at the void. The void answered back.
He would find it. Make it. He would not lose again. He would not lose this chance to defeat his greatest foe in the Imperator. Taking his woman, the mother of his children? What better piece to play in this game they were so greatly enjoying? With a roar of every negative, violent, hateful emotion imaginable, the Devil forced his clawed hand to close around her as she began to float away to her own grave and pulled her close. And then, by calling upon the answer from the void, he felt his body give way to the unmistakable power of the Dark Side. With one final growl of affirmation that this was his choice and his victory, that very same power was shunted from his free arm.
A thundercrack of might reverberated throughout the waters and the darkness of it seemed to disperse, revealing the true horrors of the sea's fathomless existence. How far they had left to sink. And perhaps it was a figment of his imagination, perhaps it was an illusion cast by his quickly deteriorating form, but when he looked down into the depths, the Devil could swear that he saw a cyclopean eye staring back at him. Massive and lidless, perhaps the size of a small cruiser. He could only utter a single laugh at that moment before he and the Vindicate were shunted upwards.
And then they breached the surface of the sea, a roar of waves accompanying their arrival, high into the storm above, and they crashed down - almost lifeless - onto the ice, rolling once - twice - thrice. Coming to a stop only because the Universe felt it necessary for them too. And they laid there for an inordinate amount of time, the Devil slowly recognizing the effects his actions had on his body.
He leisurely rolled his head to gaze upon his frame and wheezed a crackling sound as he looked upon the stump that was left of his right arm, blood pouring from the wound. And it dawned on the Devil at that moment as well that he could not feel his legs and only when he had that dawning did he realize that they were gone too. With a groan, he motioned his half-gaze over to the woman and lamented. She would soon expire unless something intervened to remove the water from her body and heal her wounds and then the process of reviving her into some monstrosity would...be troublesome.
Now, he would survive this. He was certain. But perhaps the Vindicate would become something...lesser. For now, he would just lay here and think on it, allowing the dim light of dreams to overtake him.
No dreams. No storm. No rain. No oceans. Just silence.
And when he came back to the realm of consciousness, he would not find himself on that ice. Nor on Helgard for that matter. No, he was somewhere different. Somewhere new. He was on a table, a slab rather, made of cold steel that froze his back more than the ice. A figure suddenly moved over him as he made a heavy croaking sound. At first, the figure was featureless and dark but soon grew into something that almost made the Devil burst into manic giggling.
A Helgardi, perhaps the largest Kascalion had ever observed. A servant, possibly, of Cardinal Prime, which only meant the man himself was dead. Which further meant that they had escaped Hjallaheim and went looking for their true master. Did he call out to them through the Force? Or did they just know? Kascalion would not have the answer to that question for quite some time, but that was okay to him for when he inquired about the woman, the Helgardi gave off a clacking noise with its mandibles.
Kascalion knew immediately.
Lyra Voi'kryt survived.
And now she was his to reshape. To weaponize.
"Time's up,
Irveric Tavlar
," the Devil whispered into the void.The void did not answer back.
