Romlan’s Folly District of the Undeserving, Fifth Ring.

Their path had led them even further away from the fourth ring. It felt as if the city itself guided them in another direction. Annabelle was still following after Tharia. The human girl pretended to not feel any exhaustion or pain and Annabelle obliged in that delusion. She was in no mood to argue anyway.

Slash and bash, then watch her thrash. By now these impulses nauseated Annabelle. They came without warning and felt like spikes driven into her mind. She held onto the memories of their short time together and that made it somewhat easier to resist. It’s just the complete lack of energy that is making me this way, she thought.

The alley came to an abrupt end and opened up into a wider road. They reached what looked like a massive hole in the fortification wall. Somewhere in the last years, there had been an attempt to patch it up, although it also looked as if it had been abandoned for months. Decrepit wooden constructions towered high above but really didn’t seem all that stable in the end. Tharia let out a snort and a laugh.

“I know this one. Romlan’s Folly. He was some old crotchety alchemist on a contract to convert salt crystals into divine energy. My father actually paid for this idiocy. He caught a lot of anger when Romlan inevitably blew himself up – and took half the wall along with him”

Annabelle watched the scene quietly. She knew of events like these. Human’s had long tried to replicate the gifts of the divine. This was one such case and going by how there wasn’t even the slightest hint of the divine, this Romlan hadn’t even gotten close.

“If we’re here, that means we went quite the wrong way”, Tharia added and rubbed her nose, “Annie, we’re lost”

Annabelle brushed a few silvery hair strands aside and then suddenly froze. Since when did she bother with vanity gestures? Tharia, as usual, didn’t wait for a reaction to her words. She just babbled on.

“Every way deeper into the city is locked down, barricaded or blocked by collapsed buildings. The way out, however, is easy. I’m sorry to say but I have no idea where we are even going at this point. Maybe we should head back and sneak past those moth things”

As if on cue, a loud rumbling noise announced its presence. Annabelle spun around on the spot and saw just in time how a heavy cart crashed into a building behind them. It had naturally blocked the path they had come. Tharia sighed.

“Alright, that just happened. Let me guess...”, Tharia began and didn’t even need to finish her sentences. Another path was quickly blocked by an onslaught of barrels and yet another one found itself locked down with a metal grate. They were stuck.

Annabelle quickly unfurled the scythe and clutched her hands around the handle. There was something comforting about the touch of the wood on her skin. Tharia, on the other hand, had already loaded her unwieldy rifle and poured a bit of powder in the ignition pan. She had pressed the rifle butt against her shoulder and used the scope to search the nearby buildings. Her fingers struggled to click the various lenses in place until the scope suddenly showed a subtle glow.

“I have no idea what this means, other than that something is near”

“And the blocked paths didn’t tell you?” Annabelle shot with thick sarcasm and then placed a hand in front of her mouth. What the ever loving blazes was happening to her? Since when had she been the one to snark? To maim, dismember and tear apart? She shook her head in an attempt to drive these thoughts away.

“Nay Annie, I’m a dumb as a little fox in the chicken pen”, Tharia said with a flat expression, “Now give me a minute here... ye... there”

The rifle bellowed a loud crash of unnerving thunder and the immense recoil knocked the girl flat on her arse. A sizable chunk of wall exploded into debris. Annabelle saw a humanoid shape fall out of the smashed up building and then suddenly felt a presence behind her. Crush. Slice. Burn. She whirled around, scythe held high. Just as her eyes registered a humanoid shape, she put more force into the swipe. Only then did she register that it was some weird man/animal hybrid thing. The decapitated body flailed about with a rusty old knife in hand and then collapsed on the ground.

She didn’t have time to realize what she had done. Another hybrid thing stepped up with a pitchfork in hand. She angled her scythe and then hooked the long wooden handle into the forks, wrestling the weapon aside. One quick step forward and she hammered her elbow straight into the face of the thing. Bone cracked and flesh gave in, leaving the hybrid wailing as it stumbled back. Anna rotated the Scythe, unhooked it from the Pitchfork and then rammed the blunt edge full force against the hybrid’s head. That ended the wailing in a gross gurgle. Just that moment echoed another thunder behind her as Tharia shot a hybrid into pieces. And like before, the sheer recoil knocked the girl off her feet and slid her across the cobblestone.

“Gods be cursed and drowned”, Tharia spat out.

“Ey!” Annabelle interjected.

“Sorry, Annie. Present company excluded”

Tharia got back on her legs but Annabelle had no doubt about the state of the other girl: Misery, in one word. Annabelle took a look around. She had killed two and so had Tharia. But these were just the vanguard. More and more of these weird man hybrids appeared on the roofs of the buildings. Some crawled out of the doors and over the rubble. Most of them looked closer to the human side than the monster one but there were the rare exceptions. Dressed in rags and wielding simple makeshift weaponry, they were still a force to be reckoned with by sheer virtue of numbers.

A group of seven hybrids took point and ran towards them while growling and shouting. The first one found itself in pieces at the behest of another loud roar. Annabelle looked towards Tharia and found her friend kneeling on the ground. That way she didn’t somersault each shot, but it obviously still knocked her over. The other six beast-hybrids spread out and then attacked as one.

Annabelle used the handle of the scythe to block a slash from a rusted sword in front and then by sheer instinct sidestepped a sneaky dagger jab towards her ribs from the side. That dodge, however, brought her straight into the range of a wooden club. Even though she saw it coming, she couldn’t change direction anymore. The blunt pain knocked the air flat out of her chest. Tears shot into her eyes and she stumbled backward. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw her friend still alive. Good. But Tharia was bleeding and wielded the butt-end of the rifle like a club. One beast stepped into her range and found itself clobbered to a pulp by a small woman with a mad stare in her eyes.

Annabelle felt adrenaline pump through her body. Sudden clarity reached her senses as the pain didn’t so much disappear but was made insignificant with the raging fire in her veins. She growled and yanked the scythe up just in time to block the second swing of the club. The dagger wielder was nowhere to be seen, which told her it was probably in her back again. Simply out of instinct, she jabbed the blunt edge of the scythe backward and felt a sudden impact. Without wasting time, she then changed the angle and slashed the sharp edge of the weapon in front of her. She didn’t really have to aim, the wide arc made sure she caught the leg of a hybrid but found her weapon stuck in the second one.

The hybrid with the sword saw his chance and advanced, but hesitation made him pay dearly. Sudden shock showed on his face. Then his grimace literally evaporated into a cloud of red mist. It was then that Annabelle realized she barely heard anything anymore. Looking back, she saw Tharia kneel in a cloud of smoke. The frail girl showed a crazed grin. One end of the rifle was blood red and broken while the front end still glowed from the continued shooting. Somehow, her friend had managed to kill off her attackers as one very ugly mush on the floor attested.

Annabelle went to get her scythe and then glared a challenge at the hundreds of hybrids all around them. She twirled it in a show of force. A sudden painful ringing announced the return of her hearing and what she heard left her dumbfounded. Music. Tinny, weird music she would have placed in an opera.

“Drama most delicate”, the beautiful voice of a man carried over and was met with a chant of a single word: Muse.

It belonged to a strange man sitting on a wooden throne just a few meters away from them. When had he gotten there? He wore one of those fancy suits with a bowler hat on his head. A collection of three roses in various states of decay were wrapped into a red handkerchief on his chest. At his feet stood a gramophone and played that weird music.

“Now, don’t stop on my accord. Please, go on”, he said. With the white beard and the stark blue eyes, he exuded charisma. As if on command, another group of six attackers detached from the mob and closed in on them. This had suddenly turned absurd. Annabelle couldn’t help but notice the fear in their eyes. She wasn’t quite sure what they feared more: The man or them.

Annabelle heard a sudden angry groan coming from Tharia. With a sideglance she noticed her friend examine the rifle. The earlier assault had left the weapon all but broken. The shot that had saved Annabelle was its swansong. The entire barrel was bent and blasted open. And not just that, its wielder wasn’t much better off. The hours of stubborn marching and ignoring of her bodies limits had left her feverish. Annabelle bit her lips.

“Barrier”, she then said, “Lock us in. I’ll keep them busy”

Tharia nodded and placed down her rucksack to pull out the barrier chain from within. Annabelle, on the other hand, raised her scythe into a defensive posture and then stepped towards her attackers. The closest one stepped back and suddenly turned around. She made quick work of him before focussing her eyes on the other five, while her scythe dripped fresh blood. Impractical or not, it was still deadly. These new attackers, however, were warier. They had time to see their friends die at the hands of two crazed young women. That didn’t help their morale much. Still, like before they split up and circled Annabelle.

What idiocy, how was she meant to keep them busy? Annabelle straightened her back and brushed back her long hair behind her back. Sometimes, intimidation was half the battle. She then balanced the scythe on her shoulder and shot lifeless glares at her attackers. They circled their prey with careful steps. One of them stepped forward into a quick lunge with a spear. Annabelle had seen it coming. It was obvious he’d try first.

She simply sidestepped the weapon but then suddenly held onto the wooden part of the spear and pulled on it. The hybrid came stumbling after his weapon and found himself butting heads with a goddess. Literally. Intense pain exploded in Annabelle's forehead and she felt something wet and warm on her skin but at least the spear-wielder let go of his weapon and stumbled back. With a snarl, she twisted the spear and threw it with all her might. The weapon slammed into its owner and impaled him on the floor.

She needed more intimidation, this wasn’t working yet. Annabelle hated bragging but maybe this wasn’t the time for these delicacies. She once again brought her scythe up to her shoulder.

“You’re fighting Annabelle”, she said loud and clear, then shook her head, “That’s the name your people gave me. I’m the Godqueen, last of my kin, the revenant of a broken age”

She made a step towards her attackers and found the remaining ones take a step back in return.

“As a child, the twins of war taught me weapons. As a toddler, I learned about death. As a teen, I learned just how despicable your kind is and as the bride of your once king, I know how to hurt, maim, betray and destroy. I’ve had the best teachers”

Tharia, get that damn barrier done, Annabelle thought as she tried to keep her ludicrous speech going. Deep within, she had to admit that Tharia always managed to put the Thunder into the words while her attempt sounded more like an angry fish flopping about on a beach. She shot another glance towards Tharia and found her crawling on the ground again. By the looks of it, she had sustained enough damage to make the spark detach itself. The human girl was out and the barrier wouldn’t be coming anytime soon.

To the abyss with it. She grabbed her scythe and then leaped forward without warning. The hybrid in front of her opened his eyes wide and tried to bring up his weapon to block, but Annabelle hammered the blade into his skull. Amateurs. Much to her luck. Not waiting for a second, she whirled about and used the long handle to knock the legs out from another one. A sudden sharp pain in her abdomen made her stumble. A rapier was stuck in there. She turned around, pulled out the rapier and threw it after the fleeing attacker. This wasn’t smart but it was desperation.

The hybrid simply sidestepped the weapon while Annabelle’s strength faded fast. She growled in anger and with a bit of confusion, she realized she wasn’t the only one. The man in the suit stood atop his throne and growled just like she had.

“Harold!” the man bellowed, “You imbecile. What have I taught you about dramaturgy? It is necessary for the struggling damsel to have luck on her side. Think! How is the audience going to cheer her on, if she dies right there? Go on, chop chop. Fix it”

Annabelle stood still and held her aching stomach. What unfolded next confused the everliving abyss out of her. The hybrid paced back with a defeated look on his face. It then picked up the rapier while everyone else watched. Without even hesitating for a second, he then put the blade to his chest and jabbed it straight through his heart, before falling to the ground as a writhing corpse. Loud chants followed the dramatic death of the man-animal creature. Muse, Muse, Muse.

“And you there, girl. Your attire pleases me but your weapon lacks all elegance”, the man said and stood up from his wooden throne. With everyone frozen in either reverence or sheer confusion, the man walked over towards Tharia with the grace of a cat. Standing in front of the half-erected barrier, he suddenly reached into his jacket and pulled out a double-barreled pistol. It came with a golden sheen and a weird firing mechanism. Instead of the hammer system, this came with a so-called wheel-lock that was operated by a detachable windup lever. The two ignition pans were also equipped with metal covers that made it possible to essentially pre-load two shots.

“Seeing your signet ring, my dear, I’m sure you know how to handle this pre-loaded weapon, don’t you?” the man said and held the grip of the pistol in Tharia’s direction. Shivering and shaking, the frail girl reached for it. She then held the weapon in hand and winded up the wheel-lock with the attached lever. A three-quarter turn was all it took before the weapon clicked once. Then another three-quarter turn and a second click could be heard.

“I do. Jackass”, Tharia said, pointed the pistol at the man and then pressed both triggers at once. This weapon too had murderous recoil but the frail girl resting on the ground couldn’t possibly fall anymore. The full brunt of the two simultaneous shots lifted the man off the ground and threw him several meters. His landing came with an odd crunching sound and stunned silence hung in the air.

“Magnificient!” the man suddenly said and as if pulled up by invisible wires, he got back into a standing position with not a single wound or mark on his body – not even on his suit.

“This, you amateurs, is true Drama. Betrayal, confusion and wonderful violence all combined”

He did a merry jig before bowing towards the two women. Suddenly much more serious in tone, he addressed the two women.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m the forlorn Muse. You, my dear guests, are in need of my help. I will not harm you anymore, this I swear. Instead, I propose an agreement of sorts. But before that, let’s go home. I will feed you and give you rest, I’m a strong believer in equal trades and it wouldn’t do to have you decide this way”

Annabelle didn’t have the strength to resist anymore. She felt dozens of hands reach for her and as her consciousness faded away, she saw Tharia being carried off.

Outside Time and Space

At the edge of reason.

Annabelle woke to a black and shapeless island resting in a sea of white light. The sky above showed not a single star but was colored in a brilliant gold. Yet neither source of light illuminated her body. She held up a pitch black hand and gazed at it. All around her were piles of discarded dolls. They had the size of humans or more exactly, they were her size. Their empty faces stared at her. Each of them brought the curses and voices of another dying god.

“Whore of the humans”, the former twins of war spat at her with her own face reflected on the doll, “lusting after the touch of mankind”

Then another doll started to move, it screamed ‘Betrayer’ at her, before collapsing as if all strings had been cut.

“Was the love of the divine not enough for you?” another doll spoke to her. It had the voice of her mother, the symbol of the earth.

“Let us consume through you”, the many-gods-made-one spoke. Annabelle shivered. The god named abyss was a peculiar nightmare.

“Be strong for us, please”, that one was one of her many sisters.

All of a sudden, the voices ended and left her alone on the island made out of discarded dolls. Annabelle felt tears run down her cheeks as emotional pain forced its way to the fore. She knelt down within the dolls and reached for the wooden limbs.

“Please, come back”, she cried, “Don’t leave me behind”

Brushing the lifeless limbs against her cheeks, she pleaded, she cried and she howled. There came no sound. Emotionally exhausted and all alone, she finally curled up into a fetal position. With broken movements, the dolls around her came back to life. They snapped their hands around Annabelle and pulled her into the ground. Somewhere not that far off, a weird and tinny melody permeated through the strange place.

House of the Inspired

District of the Undeserving, Fifth Ring.

Annabelle woke again. The pain in her bones told her it was the real world this time. The memories of that island faded quickly but left her emotionally drained. She felt the crusted tears on her cheek and a slight weight on her chest. Looking down, she saw Tharia sleeping. The girl’s hands held Annabelle’s stomach where she had been stabbed. She was still clothed but bandages were slung around her abdomen. Annabelle then looked at Tharia.

Consume. Devour... consummate. The last thought came with an undeniable intensity. Besides herself, Annabelle reached for her friend. She had always loved Tharia’s hair and couldn’t resist brushing her delicate fingers through it. Following a sudden impulse, she brought her hands towards Tharia’s cheeks and then ever so carefully pulled her sleepy friend into a kiss. The touch of warm skin on her lips drove Annabelle wild. It was that sweet scent, the subtle taste and the strong lure that came with it, that made her shiver. As Tharia started to shift, Annabelle suddenly realized what she was doing.

She quickly pulled her hands back and broke the kiss. What the ever blasting abyss had she just done? That was just plain creepy on more than one level. Sure, they had played around with kisses when they were younger but that was then and this was now. It felt very different doing that as an adult. Tharia looked up at her and then placed a finger against her own lips. She knew! Annabelle fell into a stutter, trying to explain.

“Fairy, I’m sorry... I don’t, why... but... somehow”

“It’s alright”, Tharia said and stretched her arms.

“Really, it’s my fault. Seems like I used you as a pillow. Sorry about that. Does the wound still hurt? I used as much as I could but I was just exhausted. Have you seen this place? Our strange benefactor is quite the weird bird. I wonder if there’s sunlight outside. Shall we see? How late or early is it anyways? A new day might bring some good news perhaps”

Tharia was babbling and Annabelle rightly sorted it under very nervous habits. Since there was no threat around, this meant the situation made her uncomfortable. Didn’t it? She didn’t really know but wasn’t of the mind to ask and make it potentially any more awkward. Annabelle patted Tharia’s hair and then pushed herself upwards. Only now did she realize she lay down in an opulent bed.

The ceiling above them was decorated with white stucco. Carefully crafted floral shapes gave accent to a dusted and unused chandelier. Heavy curtains made out of brocade kept light from coming inside, but a single candle on a nightstand gave enough light. Annabelle felt like she heard music but it was too fleeting an impression. The strange man and his group of beastman must have carried them here.

“Where?” asked Annabelle, her word trailing off before she ever got around to a sentence.

“Some old Opera thing. I didn’t get too good a look. Look, Annie, I’m sorry the barrier failed. I was stubborn and tried to press on when really, we should have been more careful. What are we even doing?”

A sudden knock on the door interrupted their conversation. There came a meek female voice from outside.

“Master Muse invites you to dinner. You’re kindly asked to attend”

Tharia watched as Annabelle left first. She needed a moment to herself to clear her thoughts and quietly hummed the melody she had heard the day before. Once the door closed, she fell back onto the bed. Had Annie really just kissed her? She once again brushed a hand over her lips.

“I guess that happened”, she then said. But it wouldn’t be her if she wasn’t a master in burying things deep inside. Before even coming to a conclusion on how that made her feel, it was already locked away. She stretched her arms again and yawned. Following that, she rolled to the edge of the bed. With speed and agility, she got out of the bed, only to plop down face first into the floor.

“Right, right, you can be on top of the world and still play the moron”

Sighing, she reached out to the divine flame and re-ignited her lower half. She thought she was prepared for what was to come. But no matter how often she had to do it, there was no way to brace for that. With a sudden rush, sensations forced their way into her brain. Her body convulsed on the floor while the cried out in agony. The next part she could do something about, however. As the spike of pain was done, she pushed the pain aside until it was background noise. She then got back on her feet and this time, she actually walked.

She brushed the creases out of the uniform jacket and slipped back into her boots. Groggy from having just awoken, she actually did sneak a peek out of the curtains and found the window walled in. Now that was a bummer. She continued rummaging through the room until she found her new weapon. Much to Tharia’s surprise, she found it pre-loaded again. Not that it helped much, she had shot the Muse point black and it hadn’t exactly helped. Now finally clothed and armed, she slipped out of the room.

The corridor was decorated with wooden panels and faded pictures. A thick red carpet rolled down in the middle and the ceiling too was decorated with stucco, but this one had been painted brown like the wood around it. She followed the corridor and passed rooms that had once belonged to various artists as made obvious by dusted musical instruments, large mirrors, note sheets that were strewn about and even painting utensils therein.

The end of the corridor opened up into an inside balcony. It allowed the view down onto the entry hall. Large glass fronts made up a large part of the entrance. These weren’t walled up and as such, the late evening sun made its way inside the building. Tharia realized that they must have slept at least a full day.

She leaned onto the balcony and looked down, caught in contemplation for a moment. Yesterday had been a nightmare. Tharia now realized she had snapped upon seeing the fountain. She clutched her hand around the Sigil ring. Her mission was one of rescue, not retribution. Save the piece of a shit brother, not murder him. But going by how the people in the capital reacted to even just hearing her name, made it obvious that would not be easy.

“Ah, Miss Verholden. So nice of you to come”, the voice of the Muse came from below her. She looked down and saw the old man curtsy in her direction. He looked strangely human and noble in his mannerisms. If he were a bit younger, he might just have stepped out from her dreams. The Muse held one hand to the side and dropped a sudden bouquet of flowers. They were quite lovely really if all a bit dried up and dead.

“I’ve prepared a bit of a show for you. I heard that one of mine has upset you”

The Muse clapped his hands and a door behind Tharia opened. Out came a familiar creature. Sudden revulsion welled up within Tharia, cold bloody rage and hatred let her grip the pistol. It was the thing that had created the disgusting fountain crest. She bit her lips and nestled with the grip of the weapon. Could she risk setting off the strange Muse by shooting down one of his guests? The Muse chuckled and curtsied again.

“Now then, Miss Verholden, do you have questions for him?”

Tharia just growled. The Muse took that as a signal.

“Tsk. Robert, Robert, you have gravely offended my guest with your art”, the old man said. He then clapped a second time. The creature abruptly dashed forward. It wasn’t aiming for Tharia but rather for the edge of the balcony. She was dumbstruck as the hybrid climbed over it and threw itself to its death without giving it another thought. Shocked, she looked back down towards the Muse and saw the most sinister of smiles on his face. It looked familiar. She had sometimes seen something similarly unhinged in a mirror.

“There’s no greater offense than badly made art”, the Muse said while keeping the smile up, “Come down and let us dine. We’ve got much to talk about, don’t we, Miss Verholden?”

End: The forlorn Muse | Coming up: House of the Inspired