“Do it, she will suffer as you have!!”

Keldon tightened his iron-like grip around the WarAngel’s throat. Her crumpled body trembled beneath his fingers. Raw bone jutted out from her shattered wings as her torn feathers lay in a bloodied heap. She clawed her bloodied fingers against his wrist, her bloodshot golden eyes darting around as she looked desperately for help. Just like Luther once did.

“Pathetic,” Keldon spat.

Fight Back!! Don’t look at me with those sniveling yellow eyes of yours, Keldon cried. He demanded true victory. One that was earned by blood and salt!

“What could she possibly teach us that we didn’t already know ourselves,”

…

Who said that?

…

Where was he? These thoughts… where were they coming from?

Keldon craned his neck. Behind him, a disfigured man with rat-brown hair and sunken eye sockets choked on his breath, reaching out at him. He stumbled back. The man’s eyes were craters of burning coal as he dripped liquid black flame from his charred lips. The essence of disintegration stared him in the eyes. A hollow wheeze echoed from the man’s dry throat. The being pointed an ashy black finger up at him, his hollow black eyes crawling with death.

“Looking back is FORBIDDEN!!”

The monstrous man lashed out as the man wrapped his gnarled ashy hands around his forearms, searing etched burns into the roots of his skin. He flailed but the man’s grip held firm as the smell of burnt flesh and agony-

“AAA-!” yelled Keldon, erupting awake. He jerked and his nerves lit up in flames. A bright light assaulted him as he shielded his eyes. Slowly, he blinked them open as his eyes wandered to unfamiliar surroundings.

*BzzZZzzzZZzzz*

The set of pure-white curtains billowed by an open window as bright sunlight poured into the room. Above, a skill orb shaped like a jade tuning fork enveloped him in gentle humming as his shaky hands became still. Patting his chest, a wrinkled gown was draped over his body as he noticed that he was laying in a pure-white canopy bed that was perched far too high off the ground. Outside, white four-winged rats squeaked on a clothesline that blew in the wind.

“Is this Baron Volldsteen’s place? Wouldn’t be surprised with all the gold décor,” Keldon thought. The stiffness in his shoulders melted away as he laid back. Turning his head slowly, he looked to his left to see what looked like a small brass bell and a folded note on a tall nightstand by him. The note read “Ring at your earliest convenience, I will be there shortly. -C”

“C? Who’s that?”

Keldon looked around the room again. It looked perfectly fine, but something gave him the creeps about the spotless room, and he couldn’t entirely put his finger on it. It just seemed too clean.

*BzzZZzzzZZzzz*

He might have felt relaxed but that was still annoying. Maybe he’d know once he looked outside. He hopped out of bed, sliding towards the window. However, stepping foot outside the carpet beneath the bed, searing pain immediately punched him in the gut. His arms burned as his mind reeled from the pain. He stumbled, falling on his ass.

“Wha- w-what was...”

*BzzZZzzzZZzzz*

The noise of the tuning fork skill orb hummed, washing away his pain as Keldon felt a cooling sensation wash over his injuries as he carefully rubbed his arms. Rubbing his temples, he looked down to the tiny brass bell. He really didn’t want to talk to any more new people today.

“*sigh* well, here goes,”

*ding*

Immediately, there was a knocking at the door as Keldon jumped in his skin.

“Who’s there?”

“Cornelius Cornwell, Gilded Fang,” said a muffled voice behind a wooden door.

He looked down at the letter, addressed to him by someone named “C”.

“Did you write me this note?”

“If you’re referring to the note on your nightstand, then partially, yes.”

“Well, come in and explain then if you’d like.”

The door opened with a creak as a snub-nosed man with a pompadour stuck his head into the room. He wore clothes of bright gold and red and his eyes scanned over Keldon as a disappointed look crossed over his face. Keldon raised an eyebrow.

“Untidy hair, sleepy eyes that lack purpose. How droll,”

“Excuse me?”

“My eyes speak to me, and I listen young man. Nevertheless, I am here to serve, and serve I shall.”

Cornelius dipped his head below his waist in an exaggerated bow.

“Um… nice to meet you too,” said Keldon, returning the bow as his eyes shifted uncomfortably.

Cornelius’ frown twisted to disgust as Keldon froze, unsure of what he did wrong.

“Absolutely not! By my master’s proxy, today, you are a citizen of elevated status. You do NOT lower your head to those such as I. To do so is to blatantly disrespect the authority of the Divine given by the state!”

“Divine? You’re that WarAngel’s attendant?”

Cornelius glowered at Keldon touching the hilt on his side and whipping out a sickle as he smacked Keldon on the back of the hand.

“Ow!”

“You will address her as Master with due respect, and not “that WarAngel”. I am no attendant; I am her fang. And the fang does the will of the mind, no matter how blind that mind is to your folly.”

Keldon bitterly rubbed the red stinging welt on his bandaged hand, not looking Cornelius in the eye. Cornelius sighed, shaking his head.

“I just simply don’t understand. Where does she see the passion?”

“What?”

Baron Volldsteen has been contacted about your awakening; his attendants will be here to escort you home shortly.”

“I meant what did you say before?”

“Nothing at all,” said Cornelius. Out of his waistcoat, he pulled out a small cloth-wrapped bundle and left it on a table in the middle of the room. “I’ve cleaned and mended your clothing and left fresh bandages for you to change into. Once you’re done, there’ll be medication for you on the cabinet by the door.”

Cornelius swiveled around, gliding towards the door as smoothly as he came in. Keldon rolled his eyes as he eyed the velvet dandy waistcoat that dragged along the floor, brushing on his heels.

“And one last thing…” said Cornelius as Keldon immediately snapped to feigned attention.

“Carry yourself with pride for Divine’s sake. You’re an apostle to one of the most powerful beings on the continent. Act like it.”

And then, he slammed the door. The wind from the door rustled the fake potted plants by the windowsill, leaving Keldon by himself in a now still room. Keldon bit his lip.

“Dammit!” said Keldon. He slammed his fist on the ground.

It was real. It truly was real. He was apprenticed to one of the most disgusting beings on the planet. His face twisted like he’d sucked on a lemon as his stomach churned. It was sickening. He reached out for the package of clothing and bandages that Cornelius had left for him, only now realizing that it was left ever-so-slightly away.

“Asshole.”

Keldon reached over to the bed, knotting the fine blankets to a makeshift rope. After a few failed attempts, he managed to use the makeshift blanket rope to lasso the package of clothing to him. But, as he unraveled the dirty bandages from his arms, his eyes widened like saucers. His arms looked like there were raked by ink-dripped fingernails as his arm was covered in dark crusted blood. But as he pulled back the final bandage his heart pounded against his ribs. Etched into his forearms was the charred black hand he saw in his dreams. He stumbled back. Adrenaline coursed through his blood as his eyes flickered to every shadow hiding in the room.

“Real… Oh, Gods, that vision, it was- “Keldon croaked, but the words were caught in his throat. The vision was real. Who? Was it the monster he’d met after meeting death? His mind surged into action as cold anxiety crushed his nerves.

*BzzZZzzzZZzzz*

But before he could get totally swept away, the dangling skill orb soothed his nerves, calming him down to a manageable state. He took a deep breath, reaching over to pick up the fresh roll of cloth strips.

“*Huuh*” sighed Keldon, wrapping new bandages around his arms. What could he do? He didn’t have very many options when it came to the mystical stuff. “Gods know Yan calls on me whenever she wants,” said Keldon, feeling frustrated

Suddenly, panic shot up his spine. The scarf! Where was it?! He whipped his head to the package of clothes as a sigh of relief washed over him. It was tucked away underneath his green cloak, as fascinatingly haunting and soft as it had ever been. But as panic drifted to calm, thoughts had begun to float around his head. Should he… call to Yan? This scarf was his only real tangible connection to the anything really related to the names right now. The memory of his arms bursting into blood as he called to Death made him shudder. It wasn’t worth it as a first option.

“No, too risky,” he thought. Calling to death meant… well, calling to death. Chills ran down his spine. There were too many things that could go wrong. What if he couldn’t control it, could he trust Yan to just NOT kill people? She was literally the essence of death, so, probably not. That, and well, he wasn’t keen on flirting with back-breaking pain.

“It’ll be a last resort,”

He took off the scarf and put it gently to the side as he collapsed onto his back, staring at the artwork on the ceiling of winged divine trampling over hordes of dark invaders, swarming a battlefield of smoke and sand. The piercing golden eyes of a white-winged monster stared down at him. Balls of anger knotted in his belly. He shook his head free from the relentless gaze.

Priorities needed to be set straight. The most important task was saving the world after all. He needed access to as many of the names as possible just in case. Then, he could worry about breaking free from under the WarAngel’s thumb.

But was there maybe… a way that he could stomach learning from the WarAngel?

His stomach lurched just thinking about learning from that abomination. No, he couldn’t. He wanted out. He couldn’t just swallow his pride and forget about all the atrocities. Keldon clenched his fist in white-knuckled anger, eyes drifting to the portrait of the monster on the ceiling.

*BzzZZzzzZZzzz*

A wave of calm swept over him, washing away his anger. “Okay, new plan. I’ll find a way out of being an elite student and try to enroll in the normal courses. Everything else, I’ll get to when I get to it,” said Keldon. He sighed in relief as he looked to the skill orb. “Man, one of those would have been so useful years ago.”

He pulled himself off the ground, gathering his things and changing into a fresh set of clean clothes, and wrapping his Sims and Co cloak around his shoulders when he heard a knock at the door.

“Baron Volldsteen’s assistant has arrived and is waiting for you in the front foyer,” said Cornelius’s muffled voice through the wooden door.

“Okay, be right there.”

He opened the overly decorated bottle of medicine and popped a small white tablet into his mouth. Throwing on his clothes, a tingly feeling immediately drifted over his body as his nerves sent shivers of excitement to his brain. Keldon flew out the room, slamming the door behind him in a rush to leave that Gods forsaken room behind, instead, excited to face a new adventure to come.